#I don't think I explained the last point well but what I mean is that it's not fair to solely compare Elizabeth of York to Elizabeth

[fanfic-reading-challenge]

The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge

Welcome to another year of the Fanfic Reading Challenge (FRC)!

I won't bore you with the history of the challenge, this year, but I will welcome you to check out past posts that do explain some of it, as well as include a brief overview of what, exactly, this challenge is, though it does change year to year. (Essentially you read fics to complete goals and win bragging points and an artsy badge.)

This year is especially different, as I had the extreme pleasure of having @noxsoulmate as a partner in crime in keeping me hostage on track to completing this year's FRC. Another valued member of the mod team is @jandjsalmon and speaks for all of us if you need questions answered!

As for the challenge....

This is, indeed, a challenge. Of course.

First of all... you must obviously read fanfiction. As if you don't already!

You also need to download and make your own copy of the spreadsheet, which can be found here, as well as below in the important links section.

To participate in the challenge, you read fics that match the tasks in the challenge. An example of a task can be: "read a fic with a title containing the word purple in it." Should be easy! Of course, there are harder ones.

Which is why there are different modes of challenge to the FRC. These are as follows:

Participation (Complete 1 task)

Regular Mode (Complete 80 tasks)

Hard Mode (Complete 150 tasks)

Extreme Mode (Complete 220 tasks)

Complete (Complete 250 tasks)

The challenge lasts from January 1st, 2025, to December 31st, 2025.

There are badges that go with the modes completed, and even a secret 6th badge that will be fairly obvious if you look at the spreadsheet! Doesn't mean it'll be easy to complete though. *smirks* (Blame Noxy)

Most important of all: this challenge operates on the honour system. We don't check your work, or your reading logs (see below), so I mean, I guess if you want to be slippery with the rules, you do you, and that's on your conscience, but honestly it's so much fun to see how much you can get done by following the letter of the law/tasks! You can be slippery even with following the tasks fully. It's great fun. ;D

I think that's enough for an intro, really, maybe too much.

Important Links and Reading Logs/Trackers

As there is a component of the FRC that includes tracking numbers of words read, most of us use a reading log/tracker to keep count of how many fics we read, including data such as words, of course, chapters, month completed, ship, author, title, fandom, link to the fic, and such. It's a great place to mark what fics you want to read in the future as well!

This year we have FOUR trackers on offer, quite different from one another, so take a look, play around with them and check out their "intros", and choose according to what you think will work best for you!

Fic Tracking Sheets

Juulna's 2025 Reading Log

Noxy's 2025 Reading Log

2025 Jandy's Fic Tracker

Taru's Fic Tracker 2025

Discord

We have a blast on Discord. From general chatter to sharing pet pics to being there for each other during the tough times to forming lasting friendships and making friendships you’d never make in a ship- or fandom-specific Discord, to asking for help ‘rolling the dice’ (pick a number between 1-10!) to choose the next fic to read, to finding some of the really challenging task fills in fandoms people might not have ever read but are willing to try, or finding fandoms someone has never read and is very tentative about stepping out of their box, but they’re being 100% supported and know they don’t need to complete the fic for it to count for the task, stepping out of their comfort zone… we’ve formed a very odd group of, if not friends, then companions (but there are definite friendships that have formed!! Just ask the people who have started watching NHL and NFL together in our off topic channel!).

In any case, our Discord is not necessary, but it is a worthy and tactical element to completing many of the tasks of this challenge. 💙

And.... without further ado....!

The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge! (link)

There is an info/rules page as the first sheet on the spreadsheet that should fill in any further questions you have. It also has more contact info than just this page if you have any further questions and perhaps need a more immediate answer for your needs.

*Occasionally you will run into something that looks like an error, and it may in fact be one! Let us know if you see it. It's hard not to make a mistake on as large a spreadsheet as this.*

Please, first of all, have fun and just read fanfiction that you enjoy! I (Juulna) did that last year and didn't even come close to completing the entire challenge, and I still had a blast because I was enjoying what I was reading and rereading. Others took the challenge right to the completed end. Others forgot about it halfway through but still had fun, and some even went back and filled in the sheet for a really good showing! The challenge is what you make of it, what you want from it. So... just have fun. Read fic. Smile. Enjoy. :)

Second of all... well, we would love if you signal boost this post!!!!

Third of all, we do have our pinned post that includes a link to this page and that will include a link to our Discord and all our trackers as well, including past links for memento and informative purposes.

Thank you, and a blessed 2025 to all!

[macknshift]

THE ONE WHERE . . . I INTRODUCE Y'ALL TO LEO!

SOOOO…i have mentioned leo in like, 90 different posts atp and never actually made a "leo intro" (mainly bc i have weird feelings ab sharing him heavily to the rest of the world lol) but! i figured now would be the best time to get into explaining him to y'all.

LEO , commonly given the last name SCOTT (depends on the dr!) is actually originally the main character's love interest in a hockey romance book i've been in the process of writing. after getting #sickandtired of annoying ass book men i gave up and began drafting one of my own. the main character is literally me (i mean, for christ's sake her name is sloane mackintosh,) and eventually, i began thinking of him in other "au"s (i used to do this a lot on wattpad - i mean DRs but the term AU is usually more digestible to ppl that may not be aware of reality shifting. Anyways.) and began kind of placing him in everything. a list of the drs he is my love interest in is follows;

BETTER CR : (fc silasj2004*) the hockey romance book pretty much as a dr. small changes occur but basically he's the exact same as leo in the book lol

PARENT DR : (fc jack schlossberg. yes. i am one of those girlies. i am not ashamed! at least he has morals + a backbone y'all this could be much worse) the "backstory" is my better cr dr. i'm now a mother of 3 (amelia or mimi, aged 5, giselle or gigi, aged 4 and i'm pregnant with vincenzo, our final kid,) and it follows our life after what would be the events of the book. i sort-of made it also as like a WAG dr in a sense bc leo is a professional hockey player! (but he retires 2 years before this point in time so idk where my thought process is w this lol)

FORMULA 1 DRIVER DR : (fc pato o'ward MY!!!! mclaren man ln4 U ARE NOTHINGGGGGGG) leonardo dempsey, son of actor patrick dempsey (my forever celebrity crush ugh he's so fine) and driver for aston martin aramco f1 team under #99. i essentially took l*nce str*ll's daddy's boy backstory and gave it to leo bc he is indeed a daddy's boy. the only dr leo and i are enemies to lovers bc i'm too obsessed w him otherwise LMFAO

MARVEL DR : (fc marcello hernandez (MY MAAANNNN)) leo scott, secretly the speedster superhero 'comet'. hired by my dad as essentially a bodyguard (leo's not intimidating AT ALL idek how the hell this is supposed to work LMFAO) as comet and knows me out of costume as his sister's roommate (mj is also in every dr ever and actually is here in this cr. i can never leave her out i love her DOWN) basically marichat vibes (god i miss marichat)

POP STAR DR : (fc marcello hernandez, again) leo sinatra, nepo baby great-grandson of frank sinatra (there's a whole, incredibly large bit of lore ab this LMFAO + he's also a great-grandson in my better cr dr too bc i need my man RICH!) and Saturday Night Live cast member. basically i go on snl and immediately fall in love. i've stolen the 'unlikely couple' weekend update sketch for us & he does domingo, which is my song lol we're funny for it idk

THE FCS, in color photos:

i'm missing like, 18 other drs that i can think of but some important info about him;

he's half oaxacan mexican. i've tried my damnedness to find a way to make it obvious but when i was 'designing' him (aka drawing him out) i used jack, silas (*NOTE: he is leo's typical fc if i don't have an designated one for him) and marcello as references to make him look the most like him as i can. the fcs are kind of loose for him but i need a way to like fully visualize him. so. yeah. his 'color palette' (weird way to put it but idk how else) makes him tanner than all three of them i fear. all of the fcs i use (other than jack schlossberg but like. idk his main celebrity lookalike in the better cr is him so i kind of had to) are latino, but i feel like it never ever properly translates when i talk about him bc his name is fucking leopold scott. like. huh.

he's also tall AS FUCK lol and built like a tank lowkey (think tom welling clark kent GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY) but it's mainly bc he's a hockey player. in every vers he's like. 6'3. shortest he is is w marcello as his fc and even then he's 5'11. (note in pop star dr he gets a lot of comparisons to jacob elordi for some reason??? idk my fans are weird)

he's got big brown baby cow eyes. every. single. time. like that is this man's defining trait and you know what? i would not change that for the world lol

his position in hockey is a goalie! he uses the number #29 and plays for our college and later for the new jersey devils before being traded to the anaheim ducks. after he retires he becomes a firefighter!!!! (which is sooo hot btw)

[antisocialxconstruct]

.

[kuroosamuu]

megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687

—

you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.

with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.

and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.

well, that didn't last that long.

It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.

you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.

so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.

"missed you."

"you saw me today."

you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."

"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.

a daily routine at this point.

you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.

you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.

It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.

megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.

you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.

he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.

the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.

all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.

and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.

and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.

you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.

you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.

the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.

"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."

"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."

"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.

"I'll just leave you two alone."

yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.

so much for keeping your relationship a secret.

—

[tgcg]

an open fly walking

i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now

TG: hey karkat

CG: YEAH?

===

TG: you ever noticed you like

TG: walk weird

CG: WOW, OKAY.

CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?

TG: pff

===

TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity

TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but

TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man

CG: I DO???

TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault

TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale

TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity

TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it

CG: SERIOUSLY?

===

TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but

TG: yeah

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.

TG: im not fucking with you striders honor

TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything

CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.

CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.

TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me

CG: ON IT.

===

===

TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude

CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.

TG: dont your feet ache

===

CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.

TG: damn i didnt think that through

TG: my shades

CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.

TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with

TG: ugh

===

TG: guess its karma

CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?

TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor

TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing

TG: just conjecture i mean

CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.

TG: yeah probably

CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

===

TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets

TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot

CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.

CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.

CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".

TG: well look at it this way

TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass

TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol

CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.

===

TG: also screw this can i use your shirt

TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up

TG: i cant see dick

CG: UH

CG: SURE, I GUESS.

TG: cool

===

TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right

TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night

CG: YEAH.

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.

CG: BUT

CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.

TG: see yeah i sound it off and

===

TG: wait really?

CG: YEAH

CG: I DON'T KNOW

CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

===

CG: IT'S LIKE

CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.

CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.

TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing

CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.

TG: you think thatd be heroic or just

CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.

CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?

TG: hah

===

TG: but uh

TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth

CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.

CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.

TG: oh

CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.

===

TG: heh

TG: well get this

TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free

TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues

TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time

TG: take that and some of this

TG: im packin punches

CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!

CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.

CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.

TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here

===

CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?

TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given

TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool

CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.

[vaspider]

I am begging everybody, fucking begging them, to slow the fuck down and fucking look things up. Right now, there are a lot of people who are making money off of creating headlines that are meant to make you mad, and it's going to get worse as we get closer to the election.

If someone tells you that there's a secret conspiracy to [do a thing you don't like] and that it's unique to Biden, you better fucking look that thing up, because chances are you're going to find that it's been happening under every administration for the last 50 years. Is that good? No! Should you want to change it? Probably! Is it a unique crime to Biden? Nope!

"Biden said [bad thing] [X] years ago." Well, this bad thing he said happens to be true, but it looks like it was 45 years ago, and he changed his stance 40 years ago. "Biden said [other bad thing] [Y] years ago." What's the source on that? So there's one person who says he said it? And nobody else who was there has corroborated that account? Who posted the story?

These are all random examples of things I've seen over the last couple of weeks, with the details slightly changed from the Tumblr posts and news articles I've seen, because the point isn't the details of the particular story, so I don't want to get bogged down in particulars that don't matter to the point I'm making.

The point of this post isn't the specific things I'm referencing but the fact that in each of these cases, the reality was not what was initially presented. Either the reality was wildly different, or this story can't be corroborated and was told by someone with a clear and very well-known agenda of their own, which means that at the very least, the story should be treated with extreme suspicion.

And on that note, please don't believe that because you're a leftist that you can't be radicalized in the same way that right-wingers are. You aren't immune to propaganda either. I'm not saying you have to like, or should like, any particular politician or political entity. I am saying, however, that you should view a lot of the news with a gimlet eye, and that goes double for anything that makes you real fucking mad.

You need - need - to stop and read the whole article and ask yourself if you can verify the claims and who benefits from this making you mad.

Please. For the sake of the people around you who have to patiently explain to you that you've gotten fucking bamboozled again by propaganda if for no other reason. We're all very tired of you thinking that leftists can't be propagandized.

[wonder-worker]

I got the same ask, so I just want to add what Kristen L. Geaman wrote, which sums it up:

"It is time to stop seeing queens as apolitical or politically active queens as exceptional: "The question is not whether women exercised power; it is how and why."

All three WotR queens were in such wildly different situations, it's frankly impossible to conduct a side-by-side examination to decide which one of them had "the most" power/influence/authority. Theoretically, however, they all had the same social & institutional power and scope of action and used it accordingly.

(To be clear, this includes Margaret of Anjou. We really cannot claim that she had "the greatest power and influence" by any reasonable parameter because her power and influence in itself was really no different from any other 15th or 14th century queen: what was different - or more importantly, was perceived as different - was the situation around her and the manner in which it forced her to use that power and influence (ie: "how" and "why"). This was in the later half of her queenship, not from the beginning. And even then, it's possible that the perception of her activities say more about her husband's position/authority than her own, or may say more about how her enemies wanted her to be perceived rather than an accurate reflection of her actual actions. We just don't know).

This logic applies to a very similar ask I received on the same topic: whether the perception of gender changed across the WotR and late 15th century. "Gender" by itself is too broad a concept (and for who? For women in general? For noblewomen? For queens?), but even if we narrow it down to the four queens in question, it's impossible to form a conclusion and unwise to even try. There are so many wildly different factors that influenced the four queens' activities and perception beyond their gender - their social status, nationality, length of queenship, political opposition and the propaganda it generated (etc) - that to compare them through a solely gendered wavelength feels very limited and rather dishonest. We can perhaps compare some aspects of their queenship (eg: Margaret and EW's roles in their sons' councils - see below) but those are individual elements and should be analyzed across a broader spectrum of late medieval English queens - it shouldn't just be merely limited to the WotR ones.

An example that comes to mind about the circumstantial differences of the three queens is their role in their children's marriages. Margaret was in a rare and unique position to negotiate her son’s dynastic marriage on her own due to the absence of the king, and did a great job; but this cannot by any means be used to judge how she would act in more “regular” circumstances. None of Elizabeth Woodville’s royal children married during her queenship except for her youngest son Richard, who didn't marry a foreign bride but an English heiress for monetary rather than dynastic purposes; she nonetheless played a significant role in his wedding, and her husband’s will specified that she was to "rule and govern" her daughters' marriages. Elizabeth of York’s eldest son and her eldest daughter made grand foreign marriages during her queenship under the most "regular" circumstances; she played an especially vital role in the latter, something that is regularly overlooked by historians. In any case, the situations of all three queens were wildly different: we can't use them to compare who did "the most" or how a WotR English queen's role "evolved". It wouldn't be a fair line of analysis.

For another example, take queenly dowers. We can't compare what Margaret of Anjou got with what Elizabeth Woodville & Elizabeth of York got on a "gendered" or even "queenly" lens (as historians tend to do, often for EoY and occasionally for EW) because Henry VII and Edward IV simply could not logistically endow their queens on the same capacity as Margaret was endowed. It was objectively a practical problem, not an ideological one. Even if they had been kings in regular circumstances, such a dower was financially unwise; as usurpers with a very limited supply of lands, it was completely unfeasible. This unfeasibility is especially true in EW's case because as an English gentlewoman with no dowry/political alliance/prestige of her own, she brought no advantage whatsoever to the king or to England, and marriage to her in fact made them lose an invaluable diplomatic card that could have potentially spelt disaster for their dynasty. It would have therefore been somewhat expected for her to receive a lesser dower in that circumstance - though of course, ultimately speaking, royal supply was limited and she might've probably been given the same high amount if more was available. That's not even getting into how Edward IV himself was running his own household on a significantly lesser budget than both Henry VI and Henry VII did, meaning that EW's dower had nothing to do with queenship and everything to do with royal policy as a whole. (I'm not getting into Henry VII and Elizabeth of York's situation because ik you've already talked about it a lot, but suffice to say, the idea that he was using her dower to somehow "control" her is nonsense. If anyone wants an example of a king of England who actually seized his wife's dower lands, look up Edward II and Isabella of France; if anyone wants an example of a queen consort whose ability to administrate and collect income from her dower lands was neglected and overlooked by her husband, look up Berengaria of Navarre. There are queens who this accusation actually applies to; Elizabeth of York isn't one of them.)

There's also the major problem of historical evidence. To claim that we can "compare" the influence and activities of the three queens is 1) to imply that we have surviving evidence for all their activities as queen, and 2) more importantly, to imply that we have equal surviving evidence for all their activities as queen. We really, really don't. More than *120 letters* have survived for Margaret of Anjou, meaning that we know infinitely more about her "daily" queenship than any other 15th century queen. It doesn't mean that she did more; it merely means that, because evidence has been lucky enough to survive for her, we know more about her activities as queen (patronage, intercession, diplomacy). I would kill to have the same amount of information for Elizabeth Woodville and Elizabeth of York: it would help flesh out their queenships so much. It would also go a long way in further establishing their personalities, their relationships with other nobles, their approaches to lordship, etc. But for now, information is very limited, and that needs to be kept in mind & specified when discussing both the Elizabeths, just like it needs to be kept in mind & specified when discussing Margaret (ie: she shouldn't be singularized). Similarly, there's also a very uneven level of contemporary evidence for late medieval English kings' reigns in general: for example, as Charles Ross has said, "The reign of Edward IV was singularly ill-served by contemporary writers of history". We possess very less strictly contemporary information about his reign, and this massive gap is "only very partially filled by the vernacular city chronicles". His entire chamber records don't survive: imagine how much royal activity has consequently been lost, and how little we know about him & EW compared to Henry VII & EoY as a result. Henry VI's reign also has this major problem when it comes to lack of surviving contemporary information, though like I mentioned, the survival of letters for Margaret of Anjou mean that the lack of information is relatively alleviated when it comes to her queenship and actions specifically. We also have more detailed extant information for Elizabeth of York's diplomatic role & activities compared to her predecessors, from what I understand, thanks to ambaassadorial letters. The point is simply that with such uneven evidence which directly affects the way we perceive their queenly activities, it doesn't really make sense to "compare" them. Rather, I think it would make more sense to analyze them individually and acknowledge their vastly different circumstances when doing so. On a broader theoretical level, like I mentioned, we know for a fact that they all had the same social & institutional power and scope of action. What was different was their circumstances (ie: "how" and "why").

One thing I do want to point out, though, is that Elizabeth Woodville did have unique political authority during her tenure as queen. Her official appointment in royal councils in her own right - for both the crown prince and Richard of Shrewsbury - was unusual & exceptional for late medieval queens, even though historians rarely emphasize it to the extent that they should. Margaret, whose activities with her son's council are often hailed as "extraordinary" and proof of her "superior" political power (I'm putting them in quotes because they're the words I come across), was in fact never actually a part of the council in her own right and never came close to possessing the position, authority or formally acknowledged importance that Elizabeth had. So, I would say that yes, Elizabeth Woodville was undoubtedly given unconventional political authority & formal appointments during her queenship, made even more surprising by the fact that these were not during the King's absence or incapacity but during his presence and the peak of his own power. Historians need to acknowledge and highlight this more than they do. However, any "comparison" (if it can be called that) of this unique and official position of Elizabeth's can't just be limited to her daughter or other WotR queens, and therefore can't be used to judge Elizabeth of York: it was unusual and unprecedented for all 15th century (from what I understand, also 14th century) queens in general and should be discussed accordingly.

What are the differences in the powers of the three queens in wars of the roses? Margaret of Anjou should be the greatest power and influence? Elizabeth Woodville has many formal authorities, and Elizabeth of York is very symbolic?

No because all medieval queens consort had both formal and symbolic authority. Please check my queenship tag to find out more.

[cinnamonest]

I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.

I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.

The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:

Most women have rape fantasies.

62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!

The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)

To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:

the "go to therapy!" line

Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)

Here are some particularly insightful resources:

1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.

2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).

3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)

4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.

5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.

the "why would you want that?" line

The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.

the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line

On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.

The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.

No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.

ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.

Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:

(X) (X)

The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth

Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.

The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:

1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)

2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.

What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).

Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.

You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!

[moonydustx]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do Zoro, Ace, Luffy, Law, Crocodile, King, and 2 Characters of your choice x Reader, where they and Reader are having a romantic moment and just when the moment is just right, something or someone interrupts the romantic scene?

ok, ok, I know, I'm really late with this one. But life is so chaotic that I won't even look for excuses hahah but I really liked your request. I think some came out a little less romantic? I don't know, I'll leave it for your evaluation. I hope you enjoy!

warnings were placed individually in each of the stories.

F!Reader x Zoro, Ace, Luffy, Law, Crocodile, King and Smoker (placed individually)

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

Zoro

warnings: mentions of previous fights/problems with an enemy pirate. Zoro is very direct with his feelings. Mentions of drinking (we have Zoro in this one, so it's kind of obligatory)

Another victory, another time to rest in some bar.

Taking the opportunity to explore the new island after solving yet another series of problems, you and your companions chose to stuff their faces - and especially Luffy and Chopper, fill their bellies with food - in a bar they found there.

However, something still stirred you. The encounter with an enemy pirate that afternoon and the way he had spoken to you still affected you. It still made you see your position on the team as shallow, expendable, unnecessary. It still made you want to isolate yourself.

"A dose for whatever's going on in your head." Zoro placed three small glasses in front of you and three in front of him when he sat down.

"What do you mean by that?" you turned to him, only then realizing that what was a full table before was now just the two of you.

"Everyone was leaving, some asking you to come along, but you seemed stuck in your own head." he explained and drank the first shot of drink. "Like I said, one glass, one thought."

"And what are you thinking?"

"That you stayed here because you didn't want to go with the wire eyebrow, of course." he pointed out, eliciting a light laugh from you. Little did Zoro know that, out of all the options you could have, Sanji wasn't exactly the one you were looking for. "Now it's your turn."

You downed the drink and felt the strong alcohol burn your throat, but the words didn't want to come out. It was too difficult to bring into the world an insecurity that, in your eyes, would be so dispensable in the vision of someone as strong as Zoro.

"Me again." he pointed out, seeing that you had remained quiet. As soon as he downed another shot, he started. "You let that shit that guy said get into your head, didn't you?"

"Can you tell me where he went wrong?" you asked and only saw Zoro laugh in disbelief. "I'm weak, I'm just a linguist, I can't fight, I don't have a devil fruit. What am I but dead weight?"

"Much more than you imagine." Zoro responded as if it were obvious.

"Much more? Only if it's much more of a burden, much more of a responsibility. I don't want to cause problems for anyone, I don't want to become a responsibility. If it weren't for you today…"

"If it weren't for me, you would still be alive and well, no one would let that idiot hurt you." Zoro seemed to be stressing about the subject and that became clearer when you saw him downing his last dose and the two of yours that were left and then remaining in a brief silence.

"I'm sorry Zoro, I didn't mean to…"

"You're important, okay? To Luffy, to the crew, to me." Seeing you look away from him, without much refinement or kindness, Zoro turned your face back to him, holding you by the chin. "I would face him a thousand times over if I had to."

"Zoro, what does that mean?"

You could feel the adrenaline rush through your body as well as waves of goosebumps going through you from the point Zoro touched you and before he finished the path to your lips, a loud noise on the table separated the two of you.

"It means I don't want you talking about yourself like that again, please." the ending came out more like a whisper than anything else. "And it also means that whenever you need me, I will protect you. It's not everyone's responsibility, you're right, but please let it be mine."

"Here you go!" Luffy sat between the two of you, practically half on top of each of your bodies. In front, a plate full of different types of sweets: chocolates, lollipops, cotton candy. Chopper was along, already stealing some pieces. "Today we know it was a difficult day for you and we know you like sweets, so this is a good thing to cheer you up. What do you think?"

"I think it's amazing!" You took a piece of chocolate, enjoying it as it melted in your mouth. "Thank you, you're amazing." despite leaving in a loud voice, your eyes went to Zoro, who just nodded and adjusted himself on the bar stool, pleased to see you happy again.

Ace

warnings: Ace and F!Reader have a casual, no-strings-attached affair.

The party and chaos accumulated on one side of the Moby Dick, it was a common image as there was no shortage - and often, barely needed - of reasons for the crew to get drunk and celebrate something. That didn't exempt you. With a good dose of beer in hand, you were sitting further back on the edge of the ship, just contemplating the mess a good few meters ahead, while the sea was choppy behind you, the cool breeze sending goosebumps against your skin.

"Hey, what's a pretty girl doing so isolated like that?" Ace leaned against the free space next to you.

"I just came to catch some wind, breathe a little." you explained, seeing him get even closer and stop almost glued to your side. "And you?"

"I just came to see a pretty girl." He placed his hand on your knee, caressing your skin, which was covered in goosebumps by the cool wind - and perhaps by his touch. "But seriously, is everything okay?"

"Of course, I really just came to enjoy the view for a bit." you explained, seeing him paying attention to every word. "I like to keep these happy moments in my memory, and besides, the night is beautiful."

"Yeah, I like it too." giving up the caress on your leg, he sat down next to you. "I like to think that one day it will be the two of us."

"What do you mean the two of us?"

"This celebration today. It's going to be about the two of us. About me putting you there in the middle, getting down on my knees and asking you to be mine and then, after a while, it's going to be the celebration about our marriage." he saw you laugh knowing he had surprised you with his brief proposal.

"And what else, fire fists?"

"The old man is going to celebrate our wedding, after all, he's the one who has to give the blessing. We're going to drink all night and then, after a while, maybe we'll be celebrating the arrival of our child, I don't know." he shrugged, chuckling at the very thought. "Maybe I went too far."

"For all of this, we need to stop being just hookups, don't you think?"

"You and I know that's not all we are." His tone of voice lowered, as if he was telling an intimate secret - which it wasn't - between you. "You know you mean so much more than just that to me."

"I know and I know you know it too." you turned around to try and steal a quick kiss from him, but were stopped by Ace placing his hat on you.

Gently, he hit the object on your head, removing your strands of hair that were a little messy and then, he helped the small hanging rope. His hand wandered from the object to your cheek, placing a quick caress.

"I love you, Ace." your voice came out as a brief whisper, a confession that was almost forbidden.

"I love you even more." he stole an almost chaste kiss from your lips, just to confirm the feeling.

"You should say that sober." you warned him and saw him walk away with a cynical laugh in him. Upon reaching the glass he had brought, Ace took another sip and offered it to you, who accepted. Water.

"I needed courage to come and talk to you about this today and I don't think drinking alcohol would help." he explained, placing quick kisses along your exposed skin. "So, no more hookups?"

"No more hookups." you confirmed, feeling his lips slide over your skin. "Keep doing that and I'm going to want you to get down on your knees and propose as soon as possible."

"For your information, I intend to kneel today." his kisses found the weak spot on your neck. "But you're the one who's going to be asking for something more."

"Stop that!" perhaps the distraction of his kisses prevented you from seeing Thatch and Marco approaching. "The two of them won't be isolated in this clump."

"Did he have the decency to ask you to be his girlfriend?" Marco asked you, who nodded, feeling his cheeks burn in shyness. "Finally!"

"Then there are no more excuses…" Thatch threw Ace over his shoulder and Marco did the same to you.

"Put me down." the fire fist asked, even if he wanted to, he would have let go of there.

"We need to celebrate. You finally got the courage." Marco pointed out while you didn't even make an effort to get off his shoulder.

It should have been a night for the two of you to celebrate the new agreement between you, but it was difficult to celebrate alone when everyone wanted to celebrate the fact that you were finally and officially together.

Luffy

warnings: Luffy is a cute fool, that's all. Ah, we have mentions of Luffy sinking into the water (poor dear and his inability to swim)

Damn, a thousand times damn. Why was it almost impossible to get Luffy to listen to anything other than his crazy ideas?

Most of the time it had ended well, but it didn't seem to be the same as today. Praying to any god that could help you at that moment, you threw yourself against the cold, turbulent water of the sea. Shaking your arms the way you thought swimming was, you began to dive awkwardly. A few feet below, you could see Luffy sinking.

With some difficulty, you reached him and despite being weak, he still remained conscious for enough seconds to see that it was you there. Sticking to his vest and using the very little you knew, you managed to pull him back to the Sunny and now the fight that was taking place throughout the ship was being contained mainly by Zoro and Sanji, leaving you not much to worry about other than revive Luffy.

Not finding many plausible solutions, you stuck your mouth to his and tried to pull out all the water he had swallowed. When you repeated the gesture for the third time, you saw him wake up spitting, while you were kneeling next to him, relief washing over you.

"Thank you for saving me." he began, knowing you would probably be furious. "And apparently you learned to swim."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." you allowed yourself to relax for a brief moment. In the end, he was fine.

"The only problem is, I've always thought about doing it, but not right after I drowned." upon seeing the question mark that was practically drawn on your forehead, Luffy continued. "I always thought about kissing you. You're pretty, nice…"

"Have you always thought about kissing me?" You looked indignant, but quickly corrected yourself, letting the little secret you carried for so long slip out there. "I've always thought that too Luffy, I think I like you, more than just as friends."

"Can we repeat the kiss…" before he finished proposing, his calm tone was replaced by a loud grumble as soon as he was hit by Nami.

"You idiot! How can you let yourself fall into the sea when there was only one person who doesn't know how to swim to save you." she insisted, the angry tone clear in her voice.

Some of your coughs caught the attention of both of them, as well as that of the ship's doctor.

"You might have swallowed a lot of water too!" Chopper pointed out, stethoscope in hand. "I need to run some tests."

"Don't worry about it, Chopper." You tried to push him away, but soon you felt him cover you with a cloth.

"Listen to Chopper." Luffy asked this time, already recovered and almost dry, which was a mystery to you how he managed to do it. "Chopper, take care of her and as soon as everything is okay, call me, please."

Luffy had no social constraints that would prevent him from doing that in front of everyone, but something told him that it had to be special. Then he just placed a chaste kiss on your cheek and left. Now everyone seemed as lost as you had been the first time.

Law

warnings: sweet boyfriend Law. This has to be a warning because this man is amazing.

Before you even open your eyes, you can feel a pair of arms wrapping around you firmly, moist lips sliding along the contour of your neck. The warm quilting of the blanket against your skin also made you want to stay there even more. However, it had just been a break after lunch for the two of you to talk - and in fact, talk and without meaning to, or perhaps because of the way his fingers slid under the top of your head in a caress, you found yourself being dragged to the world of dreams.

"Looks like someone woke up from their nap." Law's huskier voice indicated that you weren't the only one to have closed your eyes that afternoon.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one who took a nap." you - even though you practically had to fight against his arms - turned around, just a few centimeters separating your face from his. "You look rested."

"And you look beautiful, even in your sleep." he stole a quick kiss from your lips. "Even snoring."

"Snoring?"

"Yes, the noise was certainly capable of driving away the sea kings that were circling around." he grunted when he felt the light, painless slap on his arm. "Okay, it was just a cute snore."

"A cute snore?" you pushed him in vain, feeling like you only gave him enough space to pull you onto his body. "Don't even think about it, Trafalgar, after that, you don't deserve it."

"Don't be so mean." his hands slid over your body in a gentle way, practically not malicious. "Don't I deserve anything?"

"Nothing." you leaned down, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"That kind of nothing seems interesting to me." he pointed to the other cheek. "Can I have a nothing here too?" As soon as your lips met his skin, the tattooed finger moved to another corner of his face. "And here, can I?"

"Since when did you become so sappy?" you continued following where he pointed, leaving soft trails of kisses against his skin. The last place he pointed was at his lips. "Do you think you haven't gotten enough kisses?"

"Not yet." He raised himself up on his elbows, just to reach your lips and take them for himself.

His hands soon tangled against your messy strands of hair, while almost slowly he allowed himself to explore every corner of the paradise that was hidden between your lips. There was no searching for contact, no mischievous squeezes or grumbling and moaning, just the two of you, tangled in a pile of sheets, exchanging kisses and caresses.

"Captain!" Bepo's voice reached the two of you before he had practically walked through the door. "I found you!"

"Would you mind knocking on the door before coming in!" Law's voice started low and ended almost furiously.

His hands, previously on your body, pulled the sheet to cover your body. Even though you were fully dressed and Bepo posed no threat, Law couldn't help the sense of protection that surrounded him when it came to you.

"What's up Bepo?" You said more sweetly, discreetly trying to get off your boyfriend.

"The captain is about an hour late for his task and Ikkaku has been looking for you for a while too." the bear explained. "And also, if we continue on the same route, we will come face to face with a giant sea king in a few minutes."

"And you just let me know now?" Law grunted, but the stress was short-lived when he heard your laugh, almost like an automatic tranquilizer for him. "I'll meet you in a minute."

Understanding the message, Bepo closed the door and left the room. Your boyfriend's face gave it all away: he wished he could stay there, but he couldn't. Duty called you both.

"I'm coming to sleep here with you today, what do you think?" you proposed and saw him stop fixing his shoes to look at you, a small smile lit against his lips.

"Please." He asked, making you nod. "Well, I warned you."

"What did you warn me?"

"Your snoring, now I have a king of the seas to take down." he laughed when he saw you mumble. The small pout on your lips was covered with a kiss from him. "I'll see you later love."

Crocodile

warnings: jealous crocodile, as always. Brief appearance of our favorite hawk eyes.

Some things started to make sense when you entered the large hall. As an assistant, you knew that part of the ball was just an excuse to attract some enemies while the other part was to find allies, investors or anyone who could make a relevant contribution to the Cross Guild.

Even though you knew all the planning for the party, you still didn't understand why a long, sparkling dark green dress appeared on your table a few days ago. When you saw one of the evening's hosts, you noticed that - perhaps coincidentally - the two of you's outfits matched.

Waving to some infamous pirates - with rewards that you lost count of digits - little by little you got closer to whoever had provided such an outfit for you.

"I see you liked my gift." Crocodile said as you stopped in front of him. Without hesitating, he took one of your hands and made you do a little turn. "It served as if it was made for you."

"I suspect it was actually made for me, am I right?" you accepted the champagne and with an almost malicious smile you took a brief sip. The two of you lived in a cat and mouse hunt between all the years you had been working together, your feelings for him were clear and at least on one day, you expected to be reciprocated.

"I couldn't afford to let the most beautiful lady of the night go unnoticed, or unaccompanied." He said and for a brief minute, you realized he still hadn't let go of your hand. The awareness of the act seemed to reach him too and in a subtle way, he let his hand fall to his side. "And after so long…"

"After Alabasta, after Impel Down, here we are." you concluded his idea, a sideways smile took over Crocodile. "Everyone begging to be at your feet again."

"I know I'm a little cold, I won't deny that fact, but…" he approached, letting the words come out gently and quietly, as if nothing mattered other than the two of you there. "I'm grateful that all these years you've been by my side."

"And I'm grateful that all these years you allowed me to stay. For taking me out of that miserable life." you just said, reaching out to grab another glass and handing it to him. "Here's to business."

"I'm hoping this is the last toast to business." He tapped the glass against yours, seeing your expression remain in doubt. "I hope our next toast like this, you won't be my assistant anymore. I mean, just my assistant."

"And what do you expect, Sir Crocodile?" you gave him space to approach, stopping just a few inches away.

"Instead of green, maybe you'll wear white. And we sure as hell won't have that bunch of stupid pirates." he pointed out, seeing you smile widely. He raised the cup towards you again. "So, here's to our last night of business?"

"Sorry to interrupt." Mihawk's voice reached you as did his brief touch on your waist.

"I hope it's something important." Crocodile's mild expression faded as he analyzed his business partner and wondered why he was touching you.

"I need your help, miss." he pointed out, turning to you. "An idiot who refuses to take his eyes off you coincidentally owes me a few things. Would you be willing to serve as a little bait?" The groan that came from Crocodile upon hearing Mihawk's proposal to you didn't go unnoticed. "It's just a talk with him."

"Alright, I can help you with that." you agreed, much to your partner's chagrin. You handed your cup to Crocodile and taking advantage of the fact that Mihawk practically covered you from the others' view, you gave Crocodile a quick peck. "Last night of business, okay?" the man just nodded and watched you leave with the other man.

"Mihawk?" he called, seeing Mihawk and you turn towards him. "Let him lay a finger on my girl and I'll have his head and yours on my desk."

King

warnings: cute, very cute. Kind of like OC King, but I can't help but write him being cute. Sorry.

Some companions respected him too much - you analyzed it as pure fear, but you preferred to keep the observation to yourself - however, King did not impose this "fear" on you, quite the opposite.

When you weren't carrying out any of the requested orders, you liked to take your time and observe him. How he seemed to have been sculpted by something that went beyond comparison, how he could be affable when no one was around - this Queen insisted amid acid comments that it was an affection directed only at you.

After a long battle and few scratches distributed throughout the crew, in a more private corner you can see him sitting, patching up a possible injury to his hand. Aside from the bandage and messy hair, he still looked the perfect vision.

"How can I help you?" the words spill out of you without giving you much time to think.

"Don't worry about that."

"That's kind of impossible." you moved even closer, assessing his hand. "It's a small cut, it should heal in a few days."

"It was a small oversight." He shrugged and smoothed the insistent strand of hair that fell into his face.

"Can I help you with this?" you asked and he just nodded, giving you space to work.

Agilely, your fingers reached the stubborn strand and began to adjust it back to where it belonged, that is, the braid that was almost part of it. As soon as you finished, you adjusted it so that it wouldn't fall into his face again.

What went unnoticed by you was how close the two of you were, about how when you looked down you could feel his eyes burning towards you, as they strayed from yours towards your lips.

"Thank you… I mean, how can I thank you for that?" his voice was no more than a brief whisper.

"It is not necessary…"

"I insist." he interrupted you, being graced with the smile he knew on your lips. What he wouldn’t give to let you know what that meant to him.

"A ride then." your answer sounded natural to him, as if the idea crossed your mind with a certain frequency. "I always wanted to see the world from above."

"A ride, sounds amazing to me."

"I knew." Queen's voice interrupted the two of you and you immediately moved away from his body. "I told you that this softie was only soft on you."

"Shut up." King simply said without even looking in the other's direction, his eyes following you to apologize and leave.

How did that idiot Queen feel free to interrupt - and even embarrass - someone so beautiful?

The sun was already setting when you finally finished your tasks for the day and out of everything you could have expected to find in front of you, on your bed, you didn't expect to find a small note.

This way, we cannot be interrupted. Neither on this note nor among the clouds.

I heard that especially tonight the moon and the view from above will be beautiful, not as beautiful as the girl reading this note. Would you like a ride?

Smoker

warnings: mentions of a previous incident, but we have no descriptions, just brief mention of it being traumatic. F!Reader is also in the Navy.

Even without opening your colleague's door, it was almost as if you could see smoke coming through the gaps. Smoker was stressed and that was nothing new, especially when one of his missions went wrong.

"Commander Smoker?" your knocking on the door didn't seem to have caught his attention that much, so you opened a small gap, seeing him typically sitting with two cigars in his hands. "I can enter?"

"Yes." he simply responded, watching you close the door behind you and cross the small space that separated you from his desk.

"Here are some reports from today's mission."

You placed them on the table and you could see him still sulking. You had been working together for too long to know that if possible, Smoker would always let his frustration take over the entire environment - and sometimes it wasn't even in the form of smoke.

"I heard that some stupid pirates gave you a hard time today." you pointed out and saw him just respond with a look, he really wasn't interested in conversation.

A small idea, more like a memory than an idea, crossed your mind and you decided to put it into practice.

"You seem tense." you stated and saw him sigh deeply as you left your gloves on the armchair in front of him.

Without even asking permission - if he didn't want to, you would have at least gotten closer to him, you let your hands slide lightly from his shoulders to the back of his head. It only took a few squeezes for you to start to see him relax. Massaging all over his shoulder and neck, Smoker slowly began to become something more malleable and accessible under your hands.

"Those idiots, if I catch those little shits." he grunted, turning his neck a little to give you more room to work. "And you still ask if I'm tense."

"Some things are impossible to go unnoticed." you let the laughter escape you, a comfort to Smoker's ears. "But you know, sometimes you need to take some time off and relax."

"You say it like you take a lot of time to relax." he turned around, seeing you stick your tongue out. "Some things are impossible to go unnoticed." he repeated to you. "How many nights did you sleep well after that incident?"

"Well, I guess…" you thought for a moment, now your hands were just resting on his shoulders. "To be honest? I think it was only that night that I slept there." you pointed to the armchair on the opposite side. "And of course, in the infirmary. Their medicine is good."

"Don't say things like that." he pointed out, little did you know but the idea of ​​that night still gave him chills.

Letting the affection he had for you guide him, Smoker brought his hand to yours on his shoulder and pulled it, so that your face was level with his.

"I believe we both need to relax." he pointed out, his breathing practically mixing with yours.

"Yeah, we both need it."

You could almost taste Smoker's lips when the door ahead abruptly opened, revealing a panting Tashigi in front of you.

"Commander Smoker!" she started and then stopped, analyzing the situation in front of her eyes. "Do I interrupt something?"

"Don't worry honey, I'm leaving." you pointed out and you could hear Smoker practically grunting in front of you.

"What's so important Tashigi." he didn't bother to let go of your hand, even with the girl's presence, even with your body already standing behind him.

"The pirates from the last mission, someone attacked their ship and they sank, so the team that stayed behind managed to bring them in." Smoker jumped to his feet immediately, picking up the reports you had left on the table.

"You can go, I'll be waiting here." you warned without even waiting for him to ask. As soon as the room was empty, you occupied your favorite armchair and, as you rarely did, you allowed yourself to relax with the aroma of Smoker that still remained in the room.

[phantom-0-writer]

Tim stepped cleanly inside the room, and carefully shut the door behind him after checking if anyone was in the hallway. “What are you-” Danny started confused. Tim was acting very unusually right now. 

“I’m Red Robin.” He said.

Danny stared at him for a few seconds. Tim had expected him to be more shocked, Danny wasn’t like Damian and Bruce in the aspect of holding back his reactions. He watched Danny carefully and noticed that he wasn’t even surprised at all. 

His shoulder shifted a little, and a look passed in his eyes. He was relieved. That didn’t make any sense unless, “You knew.”

It made an irrevocable amount of sense. The stupid excuses he didn’t question, the easy slide bys on things that didn’t add up. Tim had wondered why Danny never brought it up with any of them. He was always quick to call bullshit on things but conveniently never on their mission cover ups. 

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly, findling with the small screwdriver in his hand.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Tim asked. He felt a little ridiculous about it all now, “How long have you known?” Tim’s mind went back to the dining room argument from last night and he rolled through it in his head. “Wait, Jason knows you know, doesn’t he?” Tim blurted, “That why he- why didn’t I realize this sooner?” 

“I mean I know you guys can’t just tell whoever you want. It’s a secret identity for a reason. You guys didn’t want me to know. So I acted like I didn’t.” Danny shrugged. “I figured it out when Dick and Bruce were in Amity, and yeah, Jason knows. He also knows I’m Phantom. Cass knows too- not the Phantom thing. Or maybe she does, I don't know.”

“You knew the whole time?” Tim balked. All the effort they put in to hide the proof before he came, and he knew the whole time. Wait, did he say- “You’re Phantom?” Tim practically yelled. 

Danny blinked at him, “I thought you knew that.” He pointed the end of the screw driver at him, “Why were you guys so okay with him being in the cave then?” 

“We thought he was Thomas Jr.” Tim threw his hands up, rethinking his entire career choice. “I mean, yeah he was in Amity with you, but we figured it was like a guardian ghost thing since the time Dick met him that one time when you got lost or something he was the one- holy shit, you were following them the whole time weren’t you.” 

“You thought Thomas was Phantom?” Danny laughed, finding this ridiculous. 

“Isn’t that how supernatural stuff works or something. Like, you guys are linked because you were switched with each other and because you were with the family he was supposed to be with so he turned into a protective spirit to, like, watch over you or something.” 

Danny's look of appalment only deepened as Tim continued explaining. “Who told you that?” 

“I mean we just kinda figured it out ourselves based on past experiences.” 

“Past experience?” 

“With supernatural stuff the right conclusion is always the most unexpected and slightly irrational one.”

Danny snorted at that. “That is a really bad rule of thumb.” 

“Right, then explain how you’re the ghost Phantom when you’re also human and alive Danny.” Tim crossed his arms. He was trying really hard not to over analyze that right. Did that mean Danny was dead or that Phantom was alive? How could he be both? Well according to Schrödinger's theory- not now Tim. He should make a new file for this later and then he’d think about it. Alone. In his room where he could properly freak out over this. 

“Touche.” Danny clearly thought this was funny so no need to put a damper on the mood. Especially after everything that already happened. 

This information changed a lot of things. Tim would have to refer this back to the Fenton-Masters case. What about Damian? Did he know Danny was Phantom? Probably not, considering none of them had, apparently aside from Jason. It would be almost impossible for Tim to not tell him that since they were supposed to be working it together. Tim wasn’t sure how he would take the information. Not only that, but gave a new scope to the vultures that had attacked and the monster that had showed up from the pits. 

Later. File. Many lists. 

“Do you want to come to Mt. Justice?” Tim asked him. 

“Like the museum?”

“Yes and no. It’s also the Young Justice base. It’s top secret and no ones supposed to know about it.” 

“What! Then why are you telling me?” 

“Do you wanna go or not?” 

“Is that even allowed?”

“Definitely not.”

Danny raised a brow. “Then we can’t go?”

“It’s far but we can just take the jet. It’s like 30 minutes tops. We could take the zeta-tubes but then Bruce would find out you took the zeta-tubes and then we’d be fucked. Well, mostly me. But still.” 

“Wouldn’t he find out we took the jet then?”

“He wouldn’t know you were on the jet. It’s not weird for me to be going there since it is my team.”

“What if we get in trouble?”

“We’ll only get in trouble if we get found out.” Tim shrugged, “Do you want to go or not?”

Danny considered it for a moment before a grin tipped his face. “Yeah.”

“Sweet.” Tim reached for his phone only not realizing he didn’t have it. “I’ll let them know we’ll be coming around. They’re all already there. Tell Alfred you’ll be going out with some friends and then come meet me at Drake Manor.”

Danny seemed to embrace the situation now, forgoing his earlier hesitance. “I’ll wrap up some stuff. I should do breakfast too so Alfred doesn’t think anything is up. I’ll give you a heads up before I’m out the door. I’ll take my bike.” 

“Take the long way round since the Manor’s in the opposite direction of the city.” 

Danny nodded. “What about you?” he asked. 

“No one’s gonna ask if I go in costume.” Tim shrugged, “Speaking of costume…” Tim turned to where he knew the wardrobe to be, “Let me see your clothes.” He opened the double doors in the bathroom where the closest would be and blinked at the largely empty room. “Where are the rest of your clothes?” He asked. Danny looked confused by that, “Oh,” Tim realized, “You used a second closet. Smart. Is it in the lab?” 

 “No, Tim.” He said, pacing his words, “These are all my clothes.” 

“Oh. Why?”

“This is a normal amount of clothes to own.” 

“But it’s like barely covering a fourth of your closet. And that’s only because everything is so spread apart.” 

“That's because the closest is the size of a literal barn. Why on Earth would I need that many clothes?”

“I thought Bruce gave you an allowance?” 

“He did.” 

“Is it not enough?” 

Danny balked at him. “Did you ask to see my closet just to make fun of me?” He huffed. 

“I’m not making fun, I’m concerned.” Tim said genuinely. Did Danny not feel comfortable asking for things? It must be because they were keeping so many secrets and he thought they didn’t trust him. This clearly ran deeper than Tim originally thought. 

Danny shoved his hand in Tim’s face, pushing him back. “Can we get back to the point?”

“Right.”

--- later ---

“Give it back!” 

“No, I had it first!

“Nu-uh. I just put it down for like two seconds when you grabbed it.” 

“You were gone for the whole round.” 

“Where’s the controller you had before?” 

“It died.” 

“There's a bunch of other ones in the drawer.” 

“You can have one from there, then.” 

“No! I want the one I had back.” Tim insisted. 

“No.” Danny moved so he couldn’t reach it. 

“That controller is player 1, so give it back.” 

“Exactly why I’m not giving it back.” 

“Why would you be player 1?”

Danny looked so smug at that, “If you recall, I’m actually older than you which gives me sovereign right over player 1.” He said pushing Tim away. 

“That doesn’t even mean anything!” 

“Ah, to be young and naive.” 

“Fuck you.” Tim said, tackling him off the sofa. 

“What on God’s green Earth is going on here?” Cass asked, returning from their small intermission for snacks. 

Bart rushed up to join her. “Is Danny winning?” 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No you're not! Give it back.” 

“Get off me.”

Kon was the last to come onto the site. “Guys.” He said seriously, “Superman’s coming. And there’s someone with him.”

Tim stopped trying to strangle Danny, sharing a look of panic with his team. 

“So?” Danny asked, confused.

“Danny, you're not supposed to be here.” Tim hissed at him. “Shit. How do we hide you from Superman?” 

“It was nice knowing you.” Kon said with a sarcastic smile. 

“How far is he?” Cassie asked. 

“He’ll be here in like two minutes.” 

“I’ll hide under the couch, he probably won’t look under there.” Danny offered. 

“He can hear your heartbeat.” 

Danny smiled widely. “I got it covered.” He said, pulling himself into the small space.

Bart giggled in excitement. 

“How-”

Kon gave a silent sign that Superman was here, sending a confused look towards the couch Danny had slid under. Tim’s phone buzzed with a notification. 

Just then, “Konner?” Clark called from the Mission Room. 

The team shared a silent look. They’d just have to trust Danny had this covered. 

“We’re in here.” Bart called even though Clark would already know that.

Tim put up two fingers to silently ask Kon if there was someone else with him. He received an affirmative. This was a horrible day for prospective teammate introductions. 

“Hey guys.” Clark smiled, then confused “Why are you sitting on the floor Red Robin?” He asked.

“I was checking something.” Tim said, picking up the controller Danny had been forced to abandon. 

“Oh, okay.” He nodded, not questioning it further. “I’m glad all of you are already here.”

“Are we getting a mission?” Cassie asked. 

“Sort of.” Clark said, excited. Then in Kryptonian, “ Come .” He said to someone behind him they couldn’t see. Tim couldn’t hear any footsteps. And he found out it was because the person Clark was introducing them to could fly. And Tim also found out that Clark had spoken in kryptonian because this new person was a kryptonian. One that Tim had never met before. “This is Kara. She’s my cousin. The entire situation isn’t all clear yet but as it stands we understand that her pod, while launched at the same time as mine, was caught in an asteroid belt and was only left free recently, when it landed near the Fortress of Solitude.” Clark turned to Kara and introduced them to her in Kryptonian and then added, “ Tim and Kon-el speak Kryptonian which is why I thought you would be more comfortable here instead of the Watch Tower. Though, Kon’s could use some work. ” He teased. 

“Hey, my Kryptonian is fine.” 

“Why don’t you try saying that in Kryptonian?” 

“ My fine is Kryptonian .” Kon said confidently. 

Clark laughed and Kara looked at Kon like he grew a second head. 

“I don’t even speak Kryptonian and I could tell that didn’t sound right.” Cassie laughed. 

Tim took his turn to introduce himself to the nervous and quite blonde. “ I’m Red Robin. ” He pointed to the symbol on his chest. “ It’s nice to meet you. ” He put out a hand for her to shake but Kara just stared at it. Maybe they don’t have hand shakes on Krypton. Since Clark had grown up on Earth he didn’t really know much about the customs of his home planet for them to have learned it beforehand. 

“ Nice to meet you. I am Kara Zor-el, daughter of Captain Zor-El and the Lady Alura. ” Then she stuck out her hand like Tim had. When Tim took it to shake Kara seemed surprised by it. 

“ You’ll be in good hands here, Kara. I’ll be back to check on you later but if you need anything Kon or any of the others can get a hold of me for you, okay ?” Clark said softly trying to gauge if she’d actually be okay here without him. 

Kara started at Clark for a moment like she was processing what he’d said, “ Why will anyone need to hold you? ” 

“Oh.” Clark pondered it, “ It’s an Earth phrase. It just means that they’ll send me a message or contact me if you feel like you want me to come back. ” 

Kara took another pause to process and then, “ I see. ” And does a hand gesture that Tim didn’t understand. And neither did Clark. No one commented on it. 

After Clark left the atmosphere of the room went stale. Danny was still under the couch and they weren’t sure how willing Kara would be to not tell Clark about it. But they couldn’t leave Kara. And Tim’s phone was buzzing with notifications that he did not want to check because he recognized the haptics of the health app he had. The one that had everyone, including Danny’s, vitals. Danny, who Tim was pretty sure had just stopped his heart for the entire duration of Clark being here. Which had been a very long duration.

Kara looked between them, confused. “ Is there something meant to be done? ” 

“ How’s your english, Kara?” Tim asked.

“ Only a little . Kal-El said it will take time .” 

“ Langage harding learn. ” Kon nodded. Kara lipped his words back to herself trying to make sense of it. 

“What do we do about our stowaway?” Cass whispered to Tim. She didn’t speak Kryptnoian, but she understood enough to know what Tim had asked. 

“I could dash him out. Maybe we could spend the day together at the mall and then we’ll be best friends and then he won’t want to hang with Tim anymore because he’d rather hang out with me because I’m so much more fun.” Bart said all in one breath, his words afterwards speeding up too fast for Tim to make any sense of. 

“She’ll know something’s up. We need to test her loyalty.” Tim strategized while Kon attempted to keep Kara in conversation. 

“How? And why haven't any of the supes been able to hear him yet?” Cassie asked. 

Bart took a pause on his earlier ramblings to make Tim’s life more difficult. “Oh it’s because he’s not breathing. Isn’t that so cool.” 

Cassie shot Tim an alarmed look. “He’s a meta.” Tim said off handedly, “Can we focus?” 

“Are you aware that your brother might be suffocating to death? In fact, we may need to hide a corpse and I sure as hell would love to hear how you're going to explain that away at family dinner.” 

“Oh, don’t worry Danny’s fine.” Bart said flippantly. “Danny, if you can hear us, make the room one degree colder.” 

Tim couldn’t feel anything but Kon and Kara did. Kara eyed the room confused about the change but fortunately she didn’t comment on it. 

“So cool.” Bart whistled, lapping the room. 

“Convinced yet?” Tim asked Cassie.

“He’s an ice meta how- you know what, I don’t want to know. So how are we going to test our warden?” 

The lounge room was decorated to look like a regular living room, including hanging “family pictures” on the wall. Everyone on the wall was in costume, for security reasons, but they were actual nice pictures of the team and their mentors. Tim pulled out a batarang from his pocket, and played around with it for a while, talking aloud about random things. It only needed to sound like a real sentence since Kara couldn’t understand what he was saying anyway. Then the batarang “slipped” out of his hand landing right in one of the larger framed pictures. The impact was loud and the glass of the frame shattered and spilled on the floor. 

Cassie didn’t have to fake her flinch in surprise at that, turning to Tim alarmed. Tim adding to the performance acted shocked. Kara and Kon obviously hadn’t missed the commotion and their conversation stopped. Kara looked at the destruction of the frame, analyzing Tim and Cassie’s reaction.  

“Dude.” Bart turned to him wide-eyed, stopping in his tracks, “We’re so dead.” Kara didn’t speak english, sure, but the dread in Bart’s voice was obvious enough. 

“Why did you do that?” Cassie scolded, “That was Red Tornado's favorite.” 

Tim held his head in his hands dramatically, then he let realization dawn on his features. Slowly he turned to face Kara. “ I’ll get in really big trouble if Kal-El or anyone finds out. I can hide it, but you won’t tell will you? ” He made himself sound really worried. 

“ Won’t it be noticed? The image is large .” Kara asked. She was beginning to share their concern on her face, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she would keep her mouth shut about it.

“ Clean up can. ” Kon said in a reassuring tone. Kara looked at him sideways, clearly confused. 

“ They don’t really come in here often so we can pass it off. But you can’t tell. ” Tim told her. 

Kara looked like she was having a hard time understanding him as well. An easier time than with Kon for obvious reasons but still not an easy time. Tim couldn’t understand why since he had made sure their Kryptonian was in perfect condition. “ Pass it off? ” She echoed, confused. 

Kara must not have understood the phrase.“ Pretend like it didn’t happen .” Tim explained. 

She thought about it and nodded. “ An Earth phrase? ” 

“ Yes. ” 

Kara didn’t answer right away and Tim wasn’t sure if it was because she was still deciphering what he’d said or if she was thinking about telling. “ I will not tell Kal-El or his associates since no one was hurt and it was only a minor incident .” Cassie and Bart had already cleaned up most of the mess why Tim talked to Kara. Tim had made sure to hit the frame so only the glass would be shattered and the actual picture was mostly unharmed except for the small tear in the corner. That would be easy enough to cover up. 

Kara's body language was stiff and she was watching everything very carefully. It wasn’t strange since she had been left with a group of strangers in a new environment and she didn’t speak the local language. She seemed around Tim’s age or maybe a little older. Kara was meant to land on Earth with a mission to watch and protect Clark. This implied that she was of a status and position to receive missions. This meant she would work by a set of rules and report to a supervisor. The supervisor was likely Clark who was most likely to take responsibility for her for a variety of reasons. 

Cassie gave Tim a raised eyebrow to ask how it was going as she walked away to dispose of the glass shards. 

It would be a gamble. A deadly one. But if Tim made it look like Danny being here wasn’t that big of a breach of the rules he could convince her to keep it to herself. He shared a look with Kon. 

“ I’m really thankful, Kara. ” Tim says, smiling. He pulls out his phone and texts Cassie and Bart their half of the plan. “ We can show you around the rest of the base. Would you like to do that? ”

“ Okay .” 

“ Room fun lounge after work. Play TV on games .” Kon said. 

Kara stared at him.

“How about I do the talking?” Tim put a hand on Kon’s shoulder. 

“Why? I’m doing so good.” Kon said genuinely. Tim doesn’t respond to that. 

The tour lasted minutes and Tim made sure to bide their time well so Cassie, Bart and Danny could be fully settled in before they returned. It would take a while for Danny’s heart rate to return to normal, and it would be better that he was all there before they tried to pull this off. 

Tim checked his phone when they were nearing the end of the tour. Cassie had texted him they were good on their end. 

“ Let’s go back to meet the others. They don’t speak Kryptonian but we can translate for you so don’t worry. ” Tim said. Kara seemed nice, it was the circumstances that were a bit stressful. But that didn’t mean they should let her feel left out.

“ This is your team ?” Kara asked, following Tim back to the lounge room.

“ Yes we do missions together sometimes. When we’re not working we spend time at the base because we’re friends. ” 

“ It is nice to have friends. ” Kara nodded. 

“ Did you do missions with your friends on Krypton? ” Tim asked. Maybe he could gauge what her position had been to see how she would react. 

“ Only practice. We did not graduate from training yet. ” 

“ Going what’s there ?” Kon asked. Tim had no idea what he was saying. 

“ What dialect does he speak? ” Kara asked Tim. “ I cannot understand it. ” 

 “ We learned the same Kryptonian, Kon just doesn’t practice. ” Tim laughed. Kon understood enough that he elbowed him. “ Are there dialects in Kryptonian? ” 

“ Many. You and Kal-El speak very… proper. ” She said sheepishly. “ No one speaks that way where I am from. Only in important meetings with outsiders .” Then she paused sadly, “ Mother always said it was important to learn but I did not listen. ” Tim had figured Kara spoke so rigidly because she was nervous or shy. This explained why she was having such a hard time understanding them. 

They reached the lounge to Cassie and Danny locked deeply in a game of rock, paper, scissors. Danny had pulled his hood back up and was wearing his cowl from earlier. He had picked one of the older models that covered most of his face until the end of his nose and past his cheekbones. Danny shot scissors at Cassie, beating her paper. Bart cheered loudly, throwing his hands in the air and Cassie groaned in defeat. Danny cackled as he took the last cookie. 

“Hey, D. When’d you get here?” Tim asked for the sole purpose of silently telling the others to not call Danny by his real name.

With a mouth full of cookie, “A while ago. Who’s this?” He asked, gesturing his head to Kara. 

Tim made wide gestures and spoke clearly in english so Kara could pick up what he was saying. It would be important for her to learn. “This is Kara, she’s Superboy’s cousin.”

“I thought she was his aunt?” Cassie asked. 

Danny didn’t look nervous, fortunately, and smiled easily at Kara. Then to Tim’s surprise, “ Nice to meet you. ” he said in perfect kryptonian. 

“ He speaks as well. ” Kara commented. 

“You can speak Kryptonian, too?” Kon asked. 

“Duh.” Bart answered. 

“Dead languages are my speciality.” Danny said pointedly. Bart giggled at that. 

“ Should we build a hole by playing a game? ” Danny asked, moving on the couch to give everyone else more room. 

“ Build a hole? ” Tim laughed, “What?”

Kara looked at Danny surprised, “ You know of that? ” She asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up. 

“It’s a phrase, basically like “break the ice’.” Danny answered, then for Bart and Cassie, “Do you guys know any games we can play?” 

“ You speak very well .” Kara complimented excitedly, leaving Tim’s side to talk to Danny. “ Did you also learn? ” Meaning is he a native speaker. 

“ Kind of? ” He laughed, “ You can speak more comfortably if you’d like. ” He gestures for her to sit.

Kara seems hesitant at first, but then she says something. It sounded Kryptonian but the accent was different to what Tim was used to and he could only make out some of it. To Kara’s delight and Tim’s further surprise Danny not only understood exactly what she’d said but even responded in the same way. 

It takes a while for them to settle on a game to play given all the language barriers. Kara spoke in what Tim learned was Standard Kryptonian but would often switch to her local dialect when she didn’t know how to say things. Kon and Tim could only understand Standard, and in all honesty, between them Tim was the only one who could speak it. Bart and Cassie couldn’t speak at all. 

They decided to play charades. It was awkward and hard at first, but they all got really into it by the third round. They kept the categories simple since Kara wouldn’t know any movies. Fortunately, she seemed to feel a lot more comfortable and talked a lot more, even if it was mostly just to Danny. There were times she would make an effort to say things in english. It was really broken but they all made sure to appreciate it and tried her best to understand. 

“I’m hungry guys.” Cassie said after her turn to act out her word, plopping herself in her spot between Bart and Kon. 

“Me too.” Bart agreed mournfully. 

“You’re always hungry.” 

“Should we order Pizza?” Tim asked, pulling out his phone. 

“I want pineapples on mine!” Bart said.

“Ew. No.” Cass kicked him. “I’ll have my usual.” She told Tim.

“Like mushrooms and olives are any better.” Kon snickered. 

“It’s better than pineapples.” 

Kara looked between them curiously. 

“Danny, ask Kara what she wants.” Tim instructed. 

After hearing them talk for the last hour Tim had finally been able to pick on some of the words but the grammar of it still eluded him. 

“ Everyone, something, something, food. ” Danny said.

Kara looked intrigued, “ What, something, eating, something. ” 

“ Something, something, like, something. ” He paused thoughtfully, making a circle in the air presumably to explain what a pizza was. “Something… ” Then, he pulled Tim’s phone to face them and pointed to the picture of a pizza on the website. “ This .”

Kara looked hesitant, “ ...Some…thing? ” 

Danny nodded encouragingly, “Something. Something, good.” He said. 

Glancing back at the picture, Tim could see on her face that she’d made a decision but she didn’t say anything. “Okay.” She said in english with a nod. “Have.”

“Great!” Finishing it up, “Kon, Bart.” Tim signaled. 

“Ugh. Why do we have to get it every time?” Kon complained, throwing a pillow at Tim. 

“I’m not going because I was the one that paid for it.” 

“I’m not going ‘casue I don’t want to.” Cassie said, kicking her foot onto the coffee table. 

“But you were the one who said you wanted food.” Kon complained, already standing up. 

“I could go.” Danny offered.

“You're funny. Absolutely not.” Tim shut down. 

Kara looked at Danny curious, “ Saying, something, what? ” 

“ Something, food, something, go. ” 

In english, “...Kitch...en?” She pointed in the direction of it and spoke in Standard Kryptonian, “ Is it not there? ” 

“ No. ” Tim shook his head, “ The store cooks it and we just have to give them money and take it from them .” He was careful not to throw in phrases she didn’t know.

Kara looked confused by the concept but accepted it. 

“Wait until she finds out about Drive-Thrus.” Danny joked to Tim. 

“I’m going to go check on the left-overs.” Cassie said heading to the kitchen.

Tim checked everyone's location on his phone. Danny’s was offline for obvious reasons, fortunately no one had freaked out about it yet. But he couldn’t be too sure. “I’m going to check on our smoke screen in the mission room.” Tim told Danny, “You’ll be okay here with her?” 

“What if we get abducted by non-friendly aliens in the five minutes you’ll be gone?” Danny’s tone was serious but his face was mischief. 

“I hope you do.” Tim scoffed, walking out.

---

“It’s just one slice, Red.” Danny tried to reach over his shoulder 

“No.” Tim blocked his food with his body, “You have your own.” 

“I just want to try!” 

“No! Eat yours.” 

“You let Kara have some!”

“That’s because I like Kara and I don’t like you.” 

“But yours looks so much more better than mine.” Danny whined, still reaching. 

“Lesson for next time then.” 

“C’mon, you’re not even going to finish it.”

Everyone watched them like a sitcom while they got to enjoy their food without meddling siblings. “I will. Just so you can’t have any.” Tim shoved as much of the slice in his mouth as he physically could. He was actually already full. 

“You're the worst.” Danny said, shoving Tim. 

“And you're worse.” Tim countered, pushing him back. 

Tim hadn’t pushed Danny very hard. Danny probably took harder hits during hockey practice. Tim had pushed him just hard enough that it forced Danny to take a step back to balance himself. Which was when he’d stepped on a wrapper Bart had left on the floor. Danny lost his balance and fell. But not before hitting his head hard on the metal fridge door behind him. 

Cassie gasped in shock. Kon and Bart rushed over to check on him. Kara watched wide-eyed, not sure what to do. 

Tim quickly stepped forward, “Hey, are you-” Next thing he knows there's a whole tube of ranch being squirted on his costume. His freshly washed costume. 

Danny watches Tim’s face morph from concern to absolute disgust with a deep satisfaction and cackles like the villain he is.

“You are such an asshole.” 

“Takes one to know one.” Danny’s on his feet and Tim chased him with a packet of garlic sauce that came with the pizza. 

Apparently feeling left out, Bart decided to dump his glass of juice all over Kon’s head. 

“Dude.” Kon shouts, but he’s quick to retaliate.

“Missed me.” Bart teases using the speed force to dodge. 

Cassie and Kara, the only civilized people here, sit and eat their pizzas at the island watching them. 

“They’re so dumb.” Cassie says to Kara, exasperated. 

Kara smiles following the action with her eyes. “ How fun .” She replies and they share a laugh even without understanding each other. 

snipbit from this fic

[gguk-n]

Hello!! I was wondering if you could please write a redbull driver with multiple wdc x platonic grid

But the older drivers like max Charles Lewis lando etc get jealous of her constantly being with the younger ones like franco kimi and Ollie all fluff n funny n fans going crazy bout their jealousy

Thank you

Rivals of the Track

{Reader's POV}

It was the Azerbaijan GP, Kevin wouldn't be racing so Ollie had replaced him for the race. He was this tall lanky British teen who rightfully corrected me saying that he was an adult now, he was funny. Ollie was with his best friend Kimi, who had come to support him for the race. I found their friendship endearing and reminded me of my best friend who would try to come to as many races as she could. The other drivers would argue about who my best friend was, but I knew who my best friend was and it was Y/BFF/N.

"Y/N, did you colour your hair?" Kimi asked. "You can tell?" I asked slightly shocked, "I just went for a lighter shade of burgundy than the last time" I elaborated. "Yeah, you look prettier" Ollie chimed. "Thank you. You boys are so sweet, unlike some people I know" I said looking at the other drivers who were stood a few feet away who were very confused when I asked them if anything was different about me. "You're always pretty" Franco added. "Okay, okay, flattery will only get you so far" I laughed. "We're being honest. Having some one as talented and beautiful on the grid that we can learn from is an honour" Kimi said solemnly. "Okay, is there a body you boys wanna hide?" I asked laughing. They laughed back.

"Can you introduce us to Lewis?" Franco whispered while we were stood there waiting for the media interviews. "Sure" I said. "He's so cool and we aren't sure if he'll talk to us" The other two boys added. "Oh, no, my babies, he's a sweetheart. You could just walk up to him and start talking. I was scared of him when I first joined too but we're pretty good friends" I explained. The 3 boys smiled at me, nodding in agreement.

Every time I would be talking to these 3, trying to make them feel at home like all the times the others did, I could feel eyes on me. I wasn't sure why they were all glaring at me.

I was doing my post quali media after qualifying P4. "So, what a race? Are you expecting a win or a podium?" The interviewer asked. "Obviously going to go for the win, podium isn't too far away either, let's see, I have a Ferrari and a McLaren to fight off though" I laughed. "We've seen you hanging around with the younger drivers, do they remind you of your rookie days?" she asked. "Yes, they are so nervous and scared but full of energy. They are fun to hang out with too" I said. "Does this mean you find the older drivers boring?" she prodded. "Never said that" I tsked. "I'm just trying to make them feel at home" I said. "Well, the fans are eating your interactions up. They find it so cute, you're like the mother duck and they are your ducklings" she said. "I wouldn't say that they are wrong" I chuckled. "I interviewed your teammate Max a while back and he didn't seem too pleased with your blossoming friendship. Why is that so?" the interviewer pointed out. "We're all competitive. I guess they are competitive about friends too" I shrugged. "It was nice talking to you, can't wait to watch you on the podium" she stated. I smiled and talked away.

I met the others in my drivers room. "I think this is a confidentiality breech to have all the other teams here" I laughed. "We're staging an intervention" Max stated. "For what? I don't have an addiction" I pointed out. "Since we're losing our bestie" Lando said. I couldn't help but laugh, "Who?" I asked. "You, you dumbass" Charles said. I sat on the chair that was unoccupied. "What's up my fellow drivers?" I asked. "We aren't only your fellow drivers, we're best friends" Lewis said. "Arguable but okay" I shrugged. "Are we not best friends?" Daniel fake cried. "My best friend is Y/BFF/n. You guys, I tolerate at best" I laughed. I could see all them visibly pout. "We don't like it" they said in unison. "What do you not like?" I asked. "You hanging out with the younger drivers or that we aren't best friends. Are we too old for you?" Carlos asked. "I'm as old as you guys. They just remind me of my siblings, they are like my ducklings and I'm their mother duck" I chuckled reminded of the analogy. "So, you aren't replacing us?" Oscar quipped. "Obviously not, they are my children. You guys are my friends" I said face palming myself. "Group hug?" Yuki asked and then we all huddled together. "What about us being best friends?" Max asked. "Still Y/BFF/N. I don't feel like a girl when I'm around you guys, she reminds me. We all have something special, we're competitors and friends" I said. They all seemed to nod in agreement.

After an abysmal race, I was laying in my hotel room going through twitter when I saw people talking about how I had taken the younger drivers under my wing and how they would follow me around like lost puppies while you could see the others stare daggers at them. At some point in the weekend, Max did almost carry me away from them, out of jealousy it seems and the gif was circulating all over the internet. I laughed at the tweets, my friends can get jealous, they would be jealous when I hang out with Y/BFF/N but I do need a get away from all the testosterone, but they are nice people, just bad at communicating.

[renranram]

Baby making ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

nsfw + fluff

it's literally the title lmfao 😭

let's all be honest here and be straight to the point, schlatt wants to impregnate you ever since he saw you interacting with kids in unpaid intern

ludwig knew by putting both of you two in his show would make great content but he didn't expect he'll actually be an uncle soon

“ baby “ schlatt leans in as you work on editing a new video of yours, “ hm? yeah? “ you look up at him as you lower down your headphones

“ can't you edit later? wanna kiss you “ he states, whiney as he starts pecking your neck, you gasping, feeling his teeth sink in, “ jay… i dont think that's kissing “ you pat his back, hoping to crack a joke

“ y/n… be honest with me okay? “ he pause, pulling away as he faces you, cupping your cheeks as he continues, “ what do you think about children? “ he asks out

as you burst out chuckling, finding him adorable by saying that in a straight face, oblivious of his intentions

“ what? don't laugh im being serious “ he couldn't help but chuckle as he fixes your hair, “ no… it's just… i thought it was gonna be a serious question then you asked me about babies “ you smile

“ it is serious “ he defends himself, smiling at you as you take a deep breath, calming down as you nod, “ uhm… well… i like children..? “

schlatt looks at you weirdly, teasing you, “ ay! i dont mean it that way! “ you playfully hit your fiancé

“ i meant… i wanna take care of children, im happy to take care of children “ you explain thoroughly, as schlatt continues to tease you, as he cocks up one of his eyebrow

“ oh shut up schlatt, you know what i mean “ you chuckle as schlatt sighs, pecking your cheek, “ … okay okay i get it… but you know.. uh.. what about our own children? “

“ our children? “ you repeat, blinking in surprise, “ h-huh…? “ you ask as schlatt caresses your hair

“ toots… i… wanna have children with you “ schlatt confesses, “ our marriage is in 3 weeks… “

“ come on… please… ever since lud’s show… i wanna just… fucking bend you over and fill you up with babies toots.. “ he leans his face on your neck, as your body shivered, feeling his hot breath on your neck

“ jay..! “ you exclaim, surprised, “ what? if you've only seen yourself taking care of those kids, you dont realize how much im excited to wife you up and make you carry my children so badly “ he caresses you hair

“ y/n… babe… please “ he starts pecking your neck, “ toots… please… let me fill you up, let me see you carry our children “

“ … jay “ that's the word that you can mutter out, “ can we do it? “ he gently asks as you take a deep breather, before slowly nodding, “ … okay “

“ fuck… im gonna make love to you all night holy shit “ he chuckles in success as he easily carries you up from your desk as you squeal, surprised

the two of you lock lips, kissing eachother as schlatt holds your back for support before gently setting you down on your guy's bed, hungrily devouring your lips but being so gentle as he slips his hand in your shirt

fondling with your breast, that's why he preferred whenever you don't wear any bras, for easy access if yk what i mean

he gently removes your shirt, liking how your nipples perk up, as he breaks the kiss a string of saliva connects your lips, as he kisses your breast, his lips sucking on your nipples as he looks up at you with those endearing eyes of his

“ angh… jay “ you moan out as he trace kisses all over your body until it reaches your hips, his hand gently guiding you as he removes your pants and panties

“ does it feel good? “ he asks, as he threw your last piece of clothing on your bedroom's floor, as you nod in response, “ i want you to feel so good okay? “ schlatt smiles

as he gently divides your legs, making you spread out for him, “ fuck… how do you get this wet so easily? “ schlatt states before gently entering a finger in, causing you to gasp

“ because… you make me so wet “ you chuckle softly as schlatt chuckes too, slowly thrusting his finger in and out as he leans in to peck your clit

he savors your pussy as he digs himself in, tasting you as he moans out while you arch your back in pleasure, holding onto his hair as you moan his name out, “ jay… fuck “

he swirls his tongue in, fucking your hole with his tongue, he can feel your flaps flutter as he continues on

he licks your clit, swirling his tongue around it even sucking it, “ feels so good toots? feels so good hm? “ he repeats, mumbling as he eats you out

“ yes… yes… ah… schlatt “ you gently pulls on his hair as he continues to thrust his finger in while tongue fucking you, adding another finger causing you to gasp again as you rolls your eyes back

you wrap your legs around his head, locking him in as he notices your breath fastening, you're close, he continues to lick you out as your moans are getting louder and louder every second

“ b-babe… ugh… im cumming “ you breathe out but immediately regretted it as schlatt pulls away, as you whine, “ what the fuck “ you groan out, now pouting

“ dont look at me like that “ schlatt chuckles, “ im not letting my wife get an orgasm because i ate her out “ he replies as he unties his jogs, lowering it revealing his hard dick, not wearing any underwear since it's only you two home

“ remember, our focus here is getting you pregnant with our healthy babies, not tongue fucking you until you're pleasured “ he smiles, teasing you as he pats your cheek, pecking you

he slowly pushes his tip in, teasing you as he rubs it on your clit, “ then get me pregnant already… you're just teasing me at this point “ you pout as he slaps the side of your hips

“ so impatient, are you this eager to be a mother already? “ schlatt pushes his whole size in, gasping, feeling his dick fill you up, you can feel it throbbing inside you

“ fuck! “ you gasp out, as schlatt holds your hips, slamming his dick inside of you, as you gasp again, moaning, enjoying how you easily bounce off just from a thrust

“ you look more prettier like this, “ he teases you, leaning in as he folds your body in half just to able to lock lips with you again, “ i should fuck you everyday so we can be sure you get pregnant “ he added

his rolls his hips, his hands trailing all over your body, touching every part of you, his hands trace your curves, admiring your shape and body

kissing your forehead, cheek, neck, everywhere, this man makes you feel loved everytime, “ you're gonna look so pretty with my kids, yeah? “ schlatt fucks you up

“ you're gonna be my little pretty wife okay, gonna see you carry our kids, gonna make you be a pretty little housewife “

after saying those you can feel his pace fasten, god, it really does feel different without the rubber, you thought, as your room fills with moans, skin slapping, thrusts, groans and squelches

“ ah ngh jay- jay- please… “ you moan out, pulling on his hair as you can feel him throb, his thrusts getting aggressive every second as your body limps in pleasure

“ im cumming.. im cumming.. baby, toots.. ugh.. im gonna fill you up, im gonna fill you up with my babies, you're gonna… fuck… look so pretty pregnant, you're gonna be the most prettiest.. fucking housewife ever “ schlatt starts to peck your face before catching your lips

the two of you kiss, your tongues tangled with eachother as he finally cums inside of you, while you squirt your juices, unison with his orgasm, schlatt pulls out, chuckling in amusement as he sees his semen leaks out of you

“ fuck… you're gonna be a the mother of our children soon “ he smiles, pushing his finger in to keep his semen from leaking

-

a full year had passed, your child was finally brought on the world, you sigh out as you publish a new video, as you look behind, seeing schlatt was holding your daughter, carrying her as he smiles at you

“ is she asleep? “ you stand up, approaching them, “ surprisingly yeah, she's been behaving for me “ schlatt gently caresses your daughter face

admiring as the 3 month old scrunches her face in her sleep, “ she's a big mama’s girl huh? “ you ask, as schlatt nods, “ i think she loves you more than me “

“ but in her defense, if you're my mom id prefer you “ schlatt jokes as you chuckle, leaning your head onto his shoulder

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Hello, Can I resquest, Transformers One, Yandere Sentinel Prime with a cybertronian reader conjux HCS

Oooh Sentinel Prime - lowkey, I believed I was gonna hate his guts until my very last breath. But I forgot I like fucked up characters that also have babygirl tratis (I mean - I am obsessed with Starscream, I understimated myself).（〃｀ 3′〃）

Yandere!Sentinel Prime (TFO) w/ Conjux Cybertronian!Reader (HCs)

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, possessive and obsessive elements, manipulation, psychological and emotional abuse, forced relationship.

Sentinel Prime is definitely a manipulative, possessive yandere that is not afraid to punish his Conjux with psychological or emotional punishment types.

You were older than both Orion Pax and D-16, a miner too - a hard working one who was always kind and tried to remain positive to everything, even when the guards were kind of jerks and your teammates got hurt while working.

Sentinel met you one day he went down to the mines to just say empty words and promises that fooled enough his blind admirers to keep up working hard. The moment his optics met yours among the other miners... he felt like his spark vibrated.

Uh, how strange - he was sure he was definitely disgusted by any bot, no matter if they were femme, mechs or none, that were a miner.

But here he is, thinking about you and talking Airachnid's audials off about you.

Maybe now he understood what Megatronus said about feeling his spark sing whenever Solus Prime was by his side.

Sentinel Prime started to look after you, visiting you down in the mines and trying to woo you. And while you were quite flattered... something in your spark knew something was wrong. You didn't knew exactly what it was wrong - but everything pointed at Sentinel, one way or another.

You tried to be polite and paint an imaginary limit line between you and the false Prime - but Sentinel knew what you were doing. And he wasn't gonna have it.

"Hehe... oh, sweetspark - it's so funny how you think you can just reject my advances! You should be grateful I have my optics on you, dear! But... Oh, well, I wished we had an organic 'fall-in-love' story to later tell our sparklings! But you left me with no options."

You were... confused. And scared. But before you could even step back, you felt a painful kick in the back of your helm, soon everything going dark.

When your optics onlined, you were met with a... new faceplate.

"Oh, thanks Primus! My love, are you okay?" The unknown mech asks as he gently craddles your faceplate with his servos.

"Where... where am I? What...?" You start to ask, blinking a few times before tilting your helm, staring with curiosity at the mech. "Who are you?"

The mech seems to smile a little bit more to then change his expression one to sadness. "Oh, my sweetspark - you don't remember me?"

The mech - Sentinel Prime - gently held your servo as both of you walked among the big, luxurious hallways of his home, explaining to you how you both were soon to be Conjuxes, him being a Prime and you were part of the guards. While on a mission against the Quintessons, you got hurt and your T-cog got taken, you nearly died! But your beloved soon to be Conjux saved you!

You just... accept it. I mean, you didn't remember anything (but something felt like missing inside of your system). But you didn't mind, you felt safe and loved in Sentinel's hold.

If Sentine Prime was not around because of needing to attend important Prime business, Airachnid is always with you - and she became a sort of... guardian. One who always followed you and kept Sentinel updated about you.

Sentinel blatantly manipulates you whenever you show any type of doubt or consideration on what he says or does. "My sweetspark, please... I nearly lost you one time. And I felt like my spark was going to die. I cannot lose you again, please. I love you so much."

It always works - after all, you don't know exactly who you were once are. Sentinel Prime is everything you have.

"Without me - you are nothing."

A few days after having woken up from your forced induced stasis mode, both of you became the Conjux Endura of each other, everyone on Iacon saw the event and celebrated. Sentinel Prime held you closely, snuzzling his helm softly against the top of yours, keeping one arm wrapped your behind and his free servo holding yours.

And you smile, preciously painted and adorned. But... something still, deep inside of your spark, knows something is wrong. But whenever you see at Sentinel's smile, you can't help but smile back and ignore that uncertain sensation.

After all - You've always been meant to be Sentinel Prime's conjux.

Everything is okay.

(ﾉ*ФωФ)ﾉ Vhaos out!

[buckyalpine]

you know what I live for? Misunderstandings. Angst. Fluff.

You bit your lip hearing Bucky's conversation with his two closest friends, the three men sitting together in the living room. It clearly wasn't a conversation for anyone else's ears but you couldn't move from the spot you were glued to.

“I-I think I should tell y/n” Bucky sighed, pacing up and down the living room while Sam and Steve were silently judging the super soldier.

"Seriously? This little affair still going on?" Sam shook his head while Bucky gave him a small nod.

“I really like her” He whispered, fiddling with his fingers.

“Well you got tell her, no point keeping it to yourself at this point, she deserves to know. It's been going on for long enough Buck” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look.

“She makes me feel safe. It’s different. I love y/n, but-" Bucky flopped onto the couch, staring up a the ridiculously high ceiling.

“But?”

“This-this is different. I-I think I love her-”

“Do you hear yourself right now” Sam said incredulously, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for him, "You brought this on yourself so deal with it"

“I know” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just-you should see the way she looks at me, her eyes, I didn't mean for it to get this far-

"Save it. Tell y/n" Steve stated, not willing for any of this to go on any longer. This wasn't the first time his bestfriend brought up this topic and he was certain it wouldn't be the last unless Bucky came clean.

You hadn't even realized you'd started crying until you struggled to choke back a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth and running off to your room instead. Bucky frowned at the soft sniffle he thought he heard, craning his neck to see an empty hallway.

"Did you hear that?" He turned to Steve who shared the same look of concern. "Fuck, do you think that was y/n?" His heart raced further, desperately wanting to run over to you, looking at the clock and realizing it was also time for him to see her. As much as he loved you, he had to go to her first.

He didn't have a choice.

-

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your misery, your boyfriends pleading voice muffled on the other side.

"Baby?" Bucky knocked again, desperately hoping you'd let him in and give him a chance to explain himself. He never intended for any of this to happen. He finally decided to let himself in, opening the door, his heart dropping seeing your sad, pouty face, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He knew you'd overheard him so there was no point in hiding anything anymore.

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out" Bucky spoke softly, shuffling at the door, guilt plastered all over his face. He closed the door behind him before walking over to the bed and sitting beside you. Before you could say anything, he shifted closer to you, nervously biting his lip.

"Her name is Alpine" Tucked into the crook of his arm was a tiny white kitten no more than a few weeks old, happily cuddled into the warmth of his chest. She looked up at him with bright blue eyes, blinking slowly while he cooed, seeing she was up from her nap.

"This is who you were talking to Sam and Steve about?" You asked nervously while Bucky sheepishly nodded, giving you an apologetic smile for his dramatics.

"I've been taking care of her. I know we're not allowed to have pets but I couldn't just leave her there in the cold" Bucky whispered, petting her small head with his finger while she batted at his tags. You giggled at how soft your boyfriend was for the tiny kitten, the furbaby having him wrapped around her little paws.

"I found her while I was out on a run, she was by one of the bushes. I don't think her mom came back for her, she was alone. She was so tiny, she would've died" Bucky felt his throat tighten, remembering the day he'd heard her cries from the garden, her tiny form fitting into the palm of his hand. She'd been days old, waiting for someone to find her.

"I've been feeding her every couple hours, got a box set up by the bush with some blankets but she can't stay there forever. Steve caught me checking on her a few days ago" Bucky looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping you'd understand what he was asking.

"Is this where you've been running off to?" You shook your head while he smiled down at the kitten, proud of how much she'd grown.

"Can we keep her? I don't to put her in a shelter, she'll be scared and she just got comfortable letting me hold her, I don't want her to feel abandoned-"

"We'll keep her. Let's talk to Tony tomorrow" You hushed your boyfriends nervous rambling with a soft kiss to his sweet lips, rubbing your thumb along his jaw.

"Really?" His eyes lit up, bright and blue, matching the baby that stole his heart.

"Really, you big softie" You teased, loving your teddybear of a boyfriend.

"I'm sorry I worried you" Bucky whispered, pulling you to sit in his lap, his two favorite girls cuddling into him.

-

"He finally came clean" Sam snorted, seeing you and Bucky sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a bunch of cat toys, with a blur of white fur jumping between the two of you. "How'd you convince Stark"

"Didn't take much to be honest" you giggled; Tony tried to put up a stoic front, melted instantly as soon as Alpine crawled up his leg, purring into the crook of his neck. "He bought her a heated cat bed and automatic food dispenser"

Alpine stretched across the warm giant couch, curling up under a patch of sun while Bucky looked at her with hearteyes.

"I have competition with a cat" You playfully frowned while Bucky shook his head, scooping you into his arms immediately.

"Never babydoll, you're my everything"

I thought I overheard you saying she's different" You nudged him while he tried to defend himself again, only to fail miserably.

"He's lying y/n, he talked about her eyes and the way she looks at him" Sam chimed in, while Bucky hid himself into the crook of your neck. "And how he thinks he loves her"

"Shut up Sam"

"Such a softie"

[reidmarieprentiss]

Short Shorts & Long Hair

Summary: Spencer does NOT want to go to physical therapy, but the pretty physical therapist might make it not so bad.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x PT fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: injury, suggestive content (16+), alcohol consumption, insecurities, rejection, use of Y/N

Word count: 11.6k

a/n: i went through pt with a huugggeeee crush on my physical therapist ,, wish they were single :(((

main masterlist part two

After Spencer Reid is shot in the thigh during a case, the last thing he wants is to endure the grueling process of physical therapy. The thought of being touched, poked, and prodded by a stranger, let alone being intensely monitored, fills him with dread. Convinced that he can handle the recovery on his own, Spencer drafts a fake doctor’s note claiming he’s fit to perform his own therapy. Unfortunately for him, neither Hotch nor his orthopedic surgeon finds the attempt amusing. Despite his protests, Spencer is left with no choice but to attend physical therapy sessions, which also means being grounded from fieldwork and unable to join his team on cases. 

—

The atmosphere in the room was thick with a tension that only Spencer Reid seemed oblivious to as he sat at his desk, meticulously writing out what could have passed as an official-looking note. His expression was one of deep concentration, brow furrowed in that familiar way as he carefully crafted each word, determined to convince anyone who might read it that he, Dr. Spencer Reid, was fully capable of managing his own recovery. 

"To whom it may concern, Dr. Spencer Reid is fully capable of performing his own physical therapy regimen. As a medical professional and an expert in several fields, he does not require the services of an external physical therapist. Please excuse him from any mandated sessions."

He read over the note once more, satisfied with his work, before folding it neatly and tucking it into an envelope. It was the perfect plan, he thought after all, who knew his body better than he did? He could research the most effective exercises, monitor his own progress, and avoid the discomfort of being intensely scrutinized by someone else. The thought of a stranger's hands on him, manipulating his body and injured leg, made his stomach turn. Spencer was resolute—he could handle this on his own.

But just as he was about to place the envelope on Hotch's desk, ready to hand it over with the casual nonchalance of a doctor delivering a prescription, the door to the office swung open. Aaron Hotchner stepped in, his usual stoic expression firmly in place. He caught sight of the envelope in Spencer's hand and the somewhat guilty look on the younger agent's face.

"Reid," Hotch said, his voice even but with a hint of curiosity, "what's that?"

Spencer hesitated for a moment, knowing full well that Hotch wouldn't be easily convinced by his little stunt. But he decided to try anyway. "It's, um, a note. From me. For me. You see, I don't think I need to go to physical therapy. I’ve written a statement explaining that I can handle my own recovery. It’s all very professional."

Hotch's brow arched slightly as he reached out, taking the envelope from Spencer's hand. He opened it and quickly scanned the contents, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he looked up, meeting Spencer's eyes with a look that was both stern and almost amused.

"Spencer, you can't write your own doctor's notes. And even if you could, this isn’t a joke. Physical therapy is a necessary part of your recovery, and it’s not something you can just skip or handle on your own."

"But, Hotch—" Spencer began, his voice tinged with frustration. "I know what needs to be done. I don’t need someone else to tell me how to stretch or exercise. I can do the research, follow the protocols—"

"That’s not the point," Hotch interrupted, his tone firm. "Physical therapy isn’t just about the exercises. It’s about having a trained professional guide you through the process, ensure you’re doing it correctly, and adjust your treatment as needed. It’s about having someone to push you when you’re too tired or in too much pain to push yourself. You’re not invincible, Spencer."

Spencer opened his mouth to argue, but the look in Hotch’s eyes stopped him. There was no room for negotiation. 

"And," Hotch continued, "I know your orthopedic surgeon would agree. I spoke with them earlier today. They were very clear that you need to attend every session if you want to make a full recovery. This isn’t optional."

Spencer felt the weight of Hotch’s words settling over him, heavy and unavoidable. He hated the idea of being in a clinical setting, of being vulnerable in front of someone else, of having to admit that he needed help. But he also knew that Hotch was right. Skipping therapy wasn’t just about avoiding discomfort—it was about jeopardizing his recovery and potentially his career.

"But if I go to therapy, I won’t be able to fly with the team," Spencer said, his voice quieter now, the frustration giving way to a sense of helplessness.

Hotch’s expression softened, just a little. "I know. And I know how hard that is for you. But your health comes first. You’ll still be a part of the team, but you need to take care of yourself. We can handle things in the field until you’re ready to come back."

Spencer nodded, though the idea of being left behind still gnawed at him. He could already imagine the isolation, the endless hours of exercises and stretches, the frustration of not being able to work cases with his team. But there was no getting around it. This was his reality now.

"Alright," Spencer finally said, his voice resigned. "I’ll go to the therapy sessions."

"Good," Hotch replied, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder in a rare gesture of support. "It’s the right decision. And remember, we’re all here for you, no matter what."

Spencer gave a small nod, appreciating the sentiment even as the prospect of therapy loomed over him like a dark cloud. He watched as Hotch left the office, the door clicking softly shut behind him. The room seemed quieter now, and Spencer sat there for a moment, the now-crumpled note still in his hand.

The first session was scheduled for tomorrow morning, and Spencer could already feel the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. He wasn’t ready for this—not physically, not mentally. But it was happening, whether he liked it or not. And as much as he wished he could write himself out of it, this was one situation where even Spencer Reid had to admit that he couldn’t do it all on his own.

—

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains as Spencer reluctantly eyed the outfit his surgeon recommended. Loose-fitting clothes were manageable, but the shorts—revealing his pale, scarred leg—were far from his usual style. They made him feel vulnerable, a stark contrast to the comfort of his usual slacks and cardigans. With a resigned sigh, he slipped into the shorts and a loose t-shirt, feeling exposed.

Crutching out of his apartment, every step reminded him of his injury, amplifying his discomfort. The short drive to the physical therapy center only heightened his anxiety; the building felt more like a fortress than a place of healing.

Once inside, the overly cheerful receptionist bombarded him with questions, each interaction grating on his nerves. Finally, he was led to a private room—a sterile, clinical space that made him feel even more on edge. As he gingerly lowered himself onto the padded table, his leg throbbing slightly, Spencer’s mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming session, dreading the inevitable discomfort and the loss of control. The door would open soon, and a stranger would take charge, leaving him with no escape.

At last, a small knock echoed through the room before the door creaked open, revealing a young woman who couldn’t have been older than her mid-20s. Spencer’s breath caught for a moment—she was gorgeous, even in her casual athletic wear, her presence both striking and unexpectedly comforting.

“Hello, Spencer Reid?” you asked with a warm smile that seemed to light up the room. “I’m Dr. Y/L, but you can call me Y/N.”

"Hi, yes, I'm Spencer. Nice to meet you," he said, his voice carrying that familiar mix of politeness and underlying nervousness.

"Nice to meet you too, Spencer," you replied with a warm smile as you settled in front of the computer, pulling up his chart. "Let's see... you got shot in the thigh, ouch. How did that happen, if you don't mind me asking?"

Spencer shifted slightly, the memory still fresh. "Uh, no, that's fine. I was chasing an unsub. I work for the FBI."

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oh wow! That's cool... and painful. I'm sorry about that."

He gave a small shrug, trying to downplay the severity. "It comes with the job."

"I suppose it does," you said, nodding thoughtfully. "Anyway, let's get some basic info about how you're doing since surgery."

Together, you went through the routine baseline questions, Spencer answering each one with careful honesty. His responses were detailed, though you could sense a certain reluctance in his tone, as if he was holding back from fully engaging in the process.

"And finally, Spencer... what is your mobility like? Can you bend your knee?" you asked, glancing up from the computer to observe his reaction.

"Uh, a little," he replied, his discomfort becoming more evident as your attention shifted to his exposed leg.

"Can you show me, please?" you asked gently, trying to ease the tension.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, then slowly bent his knee, his movements tentative. Your eyes followed the motion, taking note of the stiffness and the clear effort it required.

"Okay, good… now, how far can you bend your other knee? In fact, do you mind if I measure? That way, we can compare later down the line to see the progress you're making," you explained, keeping your tone encouraging and professional.

"Mhm, fine," he murmured, giving a small nod of consent.

You moved closer with a measuring tool in hand, your focus entirely on ensuring accuracy. Spencer, on the other hand, felt his cheeks flush slightly under your scrutiny. The vulnerability of the situation, coupled with the physical closeness, made him acutely aware of every small movement. 

"Alright," you said after taking the measurements, offering him a reassuring smile. "We'll track these numbers as we go, and you'll be able to see just how much progress you're making. It might not feel like it now, but you'll get there."

Spencer nodded again, his nerves calming slightly at your supportive demeanor. Despite his initial reluctance, he was starting to see that this process, uncomfortable as it was, might just be what he needed.

"Okay, for today, we don't have to push you too far," you began, your tone gentle yet encouraging. "We'll just start with some easy movements to get a baseline for where you're at. How does that sound?"

"That's fine," Spencer replied, his voice steady, though there was still a hint of tension beneath the surface.

Together, you guided him through a series of basic movements, carefully observing how his injured leg compared to his non-injured one. Spencer followed your instructions with quiet focus, doing his best to move as much as he could without aggravating the injury. As you made your way down the list, you noted the differences in flexibility and strength, mentally preparing a plan for his recovery.

When you reached the last item on your list, you looked up from your notes. "Alright, Spencer, I'd like you to try flexing your quad. This is important because you'll need to be able to engage those muscles when you're ready to start walking again."

"I know," Spencer said, his tone tinged with resignation and a touch of impatience, as if he was more than aware of what was expected of him but still not entirely comfortable with the process.

You nodded, acknowledging his understanding. "Oh, okay, yes, well..." you hesitated for a moment, wanting to ensure his comfort. "Can I put my hand on your leg, Spencer? It'll help me gauge the muscle engagement."

Spencer looked at you for a brief moment, the vulnerability in his eyes evident. But he gave a small nod, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, that's fine."

You placed your hand gently on his leg, just above the injured area, making sure your touch was as light and non-intrusive as possible. "Alright, go ahead and flex for me."

Spencer did as you asked, and you could feel the slight tremor in the muscle as it tried to respond. It was clear that the road ahead would be challenging, but this was a crucial first step. 

"Good job, Spencer," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine encouragement. "This is the start, and we'll take it one step at a time. You'll get there, I promise."

"Thanks," Spencer muttered, his tone clipped but not intentionally rude. He was struggling to keep his frustration in check—not with you, but with the entire process. The vulnerability, the slowness of his progress, it all grated on him. But he couldn’t help but notice how kind and patient you were, never once letting his mood affect your demeanor.

You offered him a gentle smile, recognizing the weariness in his voice. "Alright, what do you say we call it a day?"

"Sounds good," Spencer replied, a bit of relief seeping into his tone. The session had been necessary, he knew that, but it was exhausting in more ways than one.

You helped him settle back into a comfortable position, gathering your notes and preparing to leave. "You did well today, Spencer. It's not easy, but you're making progress, even if it doesn't feel like it right now."

He gave a small nod, appreciating your words even if he didn’t fully believe them yet. As he watched you head for the door, he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of gratitude. 

—

The next day, as Spencer made his way into the office, he immediately spotted Aaron Hotchner across the bullpen. Hotch was engaged in a conversation with another agent, but the moment he noticed Spencer, a subtle, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Spencer felt a mild irritation bubble up within him; he could already sense what was coming.

As he approached his desk, Hotch walked over, his expression that infuriating blend of concern and amusement. "Morning, Reid," Hotch greeted, his voice carrying that signature calm authority. "How did your first physical therapy session go?"

Spencer’s eyes narrowed slightly, detecting the faint smugness in Hotch’s tone. "It was… fine," he replied, trying to keep his voice even, though his annoyance was evident. He could tell Hotch was fishing for details, and it was clear that Hotch knew exactly how uncomfortable the whole experience had been for him.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing just a bit. "Just fine? No major complaints?"

Spencer resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "No major complaints," he echoed, though the look on his face said otherwise.

Hotch nodded, clearly enjoying this a little too much. "Good. Just remember, Reid, it's important to follow through with these sessions. They'll make all the difference in your recovery."

"Yes, I’m aware," Spencer replied, his tone a touch sharper than he intended. He knew Hotch was right, but that didn’t make the process any less frustrating.

Hotch chuckled softly, not unkindly, and gave Spencer a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Hang in there, Spencer. You'll be back to chasing down unsubs in no time."

As Hotch walked away, Spencer let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. He knew Hotch meant well, but that didn’t stop him from being mildly annoyed at the subtle smugness in his boss’s demeanor. It seemed that, for now, Spencer would just have to endure the teasing—along with everything else this recovery was throwing at him.

—

At his next physical therapy session, Spencer walked in with a bit less tension in his shoulders, though he was still undeniably on edge. The familiarity of the setting, coupled with the fact that he knew what to expect, made things slightly easier. But the apprehension hadn’t fully dissipated. There was still the uncomfortable vulnerability that came with each session, the persistent reminder of his injury.

However, without the overwhelming cloud of nerves and frustration that had dominated his first visit, Spencer found himself noticing something different. As you greeted him with that same warm smile, guiding him through the initial check-in process, he couldn’t help but take in just how pretty you were. The realization caught him off guard, stirring a new wave of anxiety that he hadn’t anticipated. 

It wasn’t just your appearance—though that alone was enough to make his pulse quicken—but the way you carried yourself, the gentle confidence in your movements, and the patient way you spoke to him, even when he was less than cooperative. It was disarming, to say the least.

As the session progressed, and you asked him to move through the exercises, Spencer felt his heart rate increase—not just from the physical effort, but from the proximity, the way your hands occasionally brushed against his skin as you guided him. He tried to focus on the mechanics, on the steps you were instructing him through, but his mind kept drifting to the fact that you were so close, your attention entirely on him.

When you gently placed your hand on his leg to help him flex his quad, Spencer’s breath hitched slightly, the warmth of your touch sending a jolt through him. He knew it was purely professional, that you were just doing your job, but it didn’t stop the nervous flutter in his stomach.

“Doing okay, Spencer?” you asked, your voice soft as you glanced up at him, concern flickering in your eyes. You could sense the shift in his demeanor, though you weren’t sure what had caused it.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered, his voice a little unsteady. “I’m fine.”

You smiled, giving his leg a light pat before continuing with the session. “You’re doing great.”

Spencer nodded, trying to steady his breathing. But the truth was, having your hands and eyes on him, especially now that he was fully aware of how attractive you were, was even more nerve-wracking than the physical exercises themselves. He couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, worried that his unease was obvious.

As the session came to a close, Spencer felt a mix of relief and lingering nerves. He knew he’d be back, but the thought of facing these sessions with you—someone who was not only skilled and kind but also strikingly beautiful—added a new layer of complexity to an already difficult process.

—

As the weeks passed, a sense of familiarity began to settle between you and Spencer. It was inevitable, really—spending an hour together every week, working through the same routines, sharing small talk to fill the silence. The initial awkwardness had started to fade, replaced by a growing ease in each other's company. 

Spencer was still nervous around you, but it was a different kind of nervousness now. His crush had developed into something undeniable, and though it made his heart race whenever your hands brushed against him or you smiled in that particular way, he had learned to manage it. He even found himself engaging in playful conversation, something that had felt impossible during those first few sessions.

Today, as you guided him through another set of exercises, the conversation flowed naturally, the rapport between you evident.

“So, Spencer, any big plans this weekend?” you asked, your tone light and casual as you adjusted his leg for the next stretch.

Spencer, who had been concentrating on following your instructions, looked up with a faint smirk. “Yeah, I thought I might go skydiving,” he replied, deadpan, though his eyes twinkled with mischief.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the playful tone. “Hmm, sounds thrilling—and very safe,” you responded, matching his sarcasm.

He chuckled softly, a sound that was becoming more frequent as he grew more comfortable with you. “Yeah, I figured, why not? Might as well add another injury to the list, right?”

“Perfect plan,” you teased, giving his leg a gentle pat as you moved to the next exercise. “Just make sure to tell your orthopedic surgeon first. I’m sure they’ll love the idea.”

Spencer laughed, the tension in his body easing further with each passing moment. “I’m sure they’ll have a lot to say about it. But really, I’ll probably just catch up on some reading. Nothing too exciting.”

“Well, that sounds more like the Spencer I’ve come to know,” you said with a smile. “Anything interesting you’re reading?”

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should share, but your genuine curiosity encouraged him to open up. “Actually, I’ve been revisiting some classic science fiction—Isaac Asimov’s *Foundation* series. It’s been a while, and I forgot how much I enjoyed it.”

You nodded, impressed. “That’s a great choice. I’ve always admired Asimov’s ability to weave complex ideas into his stories. You’ll have to let me know what you think when you finish.”

“I will,” Spencer promised, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the physical exertion of the session. These moments of connection, however small, were becoming something he looked forward to—a bright spot in what had been a difficult and frustrating process.

As the session wrapped up, Spencer found himself lingering a little longer than usual, reluctant to leave the comfortable rhythm you had developed together. 

—

During one of your sessions, as you guided Spencer through another set of stretches, the conversation drifted into more personal territory. Spencer, his curiosity getting the better of him, asked, "How old are you?"

You couldn’t help but tease him a little, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady her age?"

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and he immediately started to apologize, stumbling over his words. "Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— I just thought you looked so young."

You laughed, deciding to let him off the hook. "Why, thank you!" you said, exaggerating your response by pretending to flip your hair over your shoulder. "But I was just teasing, Spencer. I’m no lady," you added with a wink, enjoying the way it made him chuckle.

He relaxed a bit, his laughter easing the moment. "Well, now I’m even more curious."

"Alright, alright," you conceded with a grin. "I’m 26."

Spencer nodded, processing the information with a slight smile. "You’re younger than I thought… but somehow, that makes sense."

"Yeah? And how old did you think I was?" you asked, genuinely curious, your eyes fixed on him as you waited for his response.

Spencer shrugged, his expression thoughtful but with a hint of mischief. "I don’t know, maybe 50?"

You stared at him for a moment, deadpan, before replying with a sarcastic sweetness, "That’s so sweet of you, Spencer. Now tell me, am I supposed to push my thumb directly into your wound or just squeeze around it?"

His eyes widened in mock horror as he quickly backpedaled. "Neither! I’m sorry!" he laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "You don’t look 50!"

"Yeah, well, you’re going to after I’m done with you," you shot back, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned in, pretending to consider where to apply pressure.

Spencer laughed, the tension melting away as the playful banter flowed between you. 

—

During another session, you glanced over at Spencer, who was carefully stretching his leg. "Okay, Spencer," you began, your tone encouraging, "let’s see if we can get a little more range of motion in your knee today. How’s it feeling?"

Spencer shrugged slightly. "Stiff, but manageable," he replied. "I’m trying not to overthink it."

You nodded in approval, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Good strategy. Just remember, slow and steady wins the race."

He met your gaze, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I’ll keep that in mind… though I’ve never been very good at pacing myself."

—

Today you greeted him with a warm smile. "How’s the leg holding up today? Ready for some more fun?" you asked, your tone light and encouraging.

Spencer met your gaze with a playful grin, the tension from previous sessions now mostly replaced with a sense of friendship. "If by ‘fun’ you mean more quad exercises, then I can hardly contain my excitement," he quipped, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his response, enjoying the banter that had developed between the two of you. "Don’t worry, I’ll make it as enjoyable as possible," you teased back, a mischievous glint in your eye. "We can always spice it up with some trivia."

At that, Spencer’s expression brightened even more. "Trivia? Now you’re speaking my language," he replied, clearly intrigued. "Just don’t go easy on me."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your voice as you responded, "Wouldn’t dream of it. Get ready, Spencer. I hope you’ve been studying."

—

"Alright," you began, today there was a hint of mischief in your voice as you glanced at him . "Let’s see if we can get a little more flexibility out of that knee today. I know it’s your favorite part."

Spencer’s lips curled into a grin, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "You’re really starting to understand my love for torture," he quipped, his tone laced with sarcasm, though there was a softness in his expression that suggested he didn’t mind the challenge as much as he pretended to.

You couldn’t help but laugh, playing along with a mock-serious look. "Well, if it helps, I think I’m getting better at dishing it out. But seriously, you’re doing great," you added, your voice turning more sincere as you looked at him, hoping to convey how much progress he had truly made.

Spencer tilted his head, the teasing glint in his eyes growing stronger. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he remarked, clearly enjoying the banter.

With a playful wink, you replied, "I’ll keep that in mind."

—

“Okay, Spencer, this one’s going to be a bit tougher. Ready?” you asked, glancing at him with a hint of challenge in your eyes during this session.

Spencer raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smirk. “Do I have a choice?”

“Not really,” you replied, your smirk matching his. “But I promise, if you make it through this, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

Spencer’s other eyebrow joined the first, his interest piqued. “A bribe? How very professional of you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and teasing. “Hey, whatever works. Besides, I know your weakness for good coffee.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “You’ve been paying attention. I might just have to hold you to that offer.”

“Deal,” you said with a playful wink, moving closer to guide him through the tougher exercises. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got, Dr. Reid.”

—

As Spencer walked into the therapy room for his session, he was greeted with a warm smile and a familiar, teasing tone. "How’s my favorite patient doing today?" you asked, your voice light and welcoming.

Spencer couldn’t help but return the smile, a playful glint in his eye as he replied, "Favorite? I’ll try not to let it go to my head."

You grinned, the banter between you both becoming second nature by now. "You’re lucky you’ve got that charm. Otherwise, I might make you do extra reps."

"I’ll remember that next time I’m tempted to be difficult," Spencer quipped, his tone just as playful, though there was a genuine warmth beneath it.

"Good plan," you said with a nod, before your expression softened slightly. "But seriously, you’re making great progress. Pretty soon, you’ll be back to chasing down unsubs."

Spencer’s smile grew a bit wider, the teasing still evident in his voice as he responded, "And I’ll be sure to tell them all about my excellent physical therapist."

A soft chuckle escaped you, and you met his gaze, your voice gentle as you said, "I’ll be waiting to hear that story."

—

While the team was out on a case, Spencer and Penelope found themselves working together in her Bat Cave, the hum of computers and the click of keys filling the otherwise quiet space. It was a rare moment of calm in their usually hectic lives, and Spencer appreciated the company, even if the work they were doing was still demanding.

“How’s Kevin?” Spencer asked, breaking the silence as he glanced over at Penelope.

Penelope paused for a moment, her fingers hesitating over the keyboard before she responded. “He’s… fine. We haven’t been on a date in a while.”

“Oh, why’s that?” Spencer inquired, his curiosity piqued.

“I’m not sure. We’re both busy, it’s not a big deal,” Penelope replied, her tone making it clear she didn’t want to delve too deeply into the subject. It was unlike her to brush off a topic so quickly, but Spencer respected her boundaries and decided not to press further.

Instead, Penelope shifted the focus, a mischievous glint in her eye as she asked, “How is your love life, Boy Wonder?”

Spencer snorted at the question, shaking his head. “Non-existent.”

Penelope’s eyes sparkled with a mix of sympathy and determination. “Do you want me to set you up with someone? I have single friends!”

“No, thank you, I’m okay,” Spencer replied quickly, his voice firm but kind. The last thing he needed was to be thrust into a blind date arranged by Penelope, well-meaning as she was.

Penelope pouted slightly but didn’t push the issue. “Okay… but think about it!” she added, her tone playful, though there was a hint of genuine concern behind it.

Spencer just smiled, appreciating her efforts but knowing that his mind was already occupied with someone else—someone who made him look forward to his weekly therapy sessions in a way he hadn’t expected. But that was something he wasn’t quite ready to share, not yet.

—

“Ow!” Spencer winced as a sharp pain shot through his leg, catching both of you off guard.

“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t mean to push too far. Are you okay?” Your voice was filled with concern as you immediately eased the pressure, your hands hovering just above his leg, ready to help if needed.

Spencer forced a small, embarrassed smile, trying to downplay the discomfort. “Yeah, hah, I’m fine,” he said, though his flushed cheeks told a different story.

You offered him a reassuring smile, sensing his unease. “It’s okay if we need to take a break.���

“Okay… maybe a little one,” he admitted, feeling a bit sheepish but grateful for the pause.

“For sure,” you said with a nod, standing up. “I’ll go get you some water.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replied, watching as you left the room. He let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort.

When you returned, Spencer couldn’t help but notice how stunning you looked today—though, in truth, he thought you looked gorgeous every day. But something about today caught his attention more than usual. Your pants were form-fitting, hugging your figure in a way that made it hard for him to focus on anything else. And your top… well, it clung to your body like a second skin, accentuating every curve, every roll, and, in this chilly room, every… bump. The air conditioning was doing its job a little too well.

Spencer quickly averted his gaze, feeling his face heat up, and hoped you hadn’t noticed the direction of his thoughts. He took the water you offered with a grateful nod, trying to distract himself from the sudden rush of awareness that had flooded his senses.

“Here you go,” you said, handing him the bottle with a warm smile. “Take your time, okay? We’ll go at your pace.”

“Thanks,” Spencer murmured, taking a sip of the cool water, though it did little to calm the warmth in his cheeks. He was still focused on recovering, but now there was an added layer of distraction—one that made the idea of these sessions both thrilling and terrifying.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay, doctor?” you asked, noticing the bright flush on Spencer’s face. Your concern was evident, your eyes searching his for any sign of discomfort beyond what he’d already admitted.

“Yes, doctor,” Spencer teased back with a small, sheepish grin. “Why?”

“Your face is really red,” you pointed out gently. “You can tell me if we need to be done for the day.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I promise,” he insisted, though the blush on his cheeks only deepened as he realized you’d noticed. He quickly tried to redirect the conversation. 

“Okay,” you said, still watching him carefully. “Let’s just rest for a bit. Can I sit?” You gestured to the patient bed where Spencer was currently resting.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, starting to scoot over to make room, but you plopped yourself down on the opposite end anyway, your casual movement making him relax a bit.

“So, um, do you have any fun plans for the weekend?” Spencer asked, eager to keep the conversation going and to steer it away from his embarrassment.

“Yeah, actually! I’m going to a new club with some friends,” you responded with a bright smile, clearly looking forward to it.

“Nice,” Spencer said, though internally, he had no idea what going to a club entailed. It wasn’t exactly his scene. Still, he was trying to be polite and keep the conversation light. “Will your boyfriend be going?”

Your brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but there was a playful glint in your eyes. “Who told you I have a boyfriend?”

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat, a pang of regret hitting him as he fumbled for words. “Uh, I just, um, assumed…”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Well, no, he’s not going. He’s not allowed in.”

“Oh,” Spencer said, confusion and curiosity in his voice. “Why?”

“They frown upon bringing dogs into clubs,” you replied with a grin, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

Spencer blinked, processing your words, before a wide smile spread across his face. “You had me there for a second.”

“Good,” you teased back, your laughter light and infectious. “I’m single, Spencer. Just me and my dog.”

Spencer’s heart, which had momentarily broken at the thought of you having a boyfriend, slowly pieced itself back together. The relief he felt was palpable, though he tried not to show it too much. “Well, your dog sounds like great company.”

“He is,” you agreed, still smiling as you settled more comfortably on the bed. “But it’s nice to have human company too.”

Spencer nodded, his own smile lingering as the tension between you two melted away, replaced by an easy, comfortable rapport that made him feel just a bit braver. “I’ll, um, have to think of something fun to do this weekend too.”

“Well,” you said, giving him a playful nudge with your foot, “if you need ideas, you know where to find me.”

—

Spencer had spent the weekend mentally preparing himself, trying to muster up the courage to take a step outside his comfort zone and maybe even visit the club you had mentioned. But as the days passed, the idea of loud music, crowded spaces, and unfamiliar social dynamics became more daunting than exciting. In the end, he stayed home, retreating to the familiar comfort of his books and routine. 

However, something had shifted in him after your last conversation. The way you had laughed, the playful teasing about your “boyfriend,” and the easy, comfortable rapport between you—it all made Spencer feel like maybe, just maybe, his attraction to you wasn’t as one-sided as he had feared. That small spark of hope ignited something in him, and by the time his next session rolled around, he was determined to push the boundaries of your interactions, just a little.

As soon as he walked into the room, he could tell there was a different energy in the air. You greeted him with your usual warm smile, but there was something in your eyes, a glint that made his heart race just a bit faster.

“Hey, Spencer,” you said, your voice bright as you guided him to the usual spot. “How was your weekend? Did you end up finding something fun to do?”

Spencer hesitated for a split second, then decided to go for it. “Well, I thought about going to that club you mentioned,” he began, watching your reaction carefully.

“Oh really?” you asked, clearly intrigued. “What happened? Did you chicken out?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted with a small, self-deprecating laugh. “But I figured if I was going to do something that bold, I’d need a good reason. Maybe some company?”

Spencer's confidence had been steadily growing throughout the session, especially after the playful banter you shared earlier. But when you leaned in just a bit closer, your eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief, and said, “Company, huh? I’m sure you could find someone to go with you,” he felt a sudden drop in his stomach. 

He tried to keep the conversation going, hoping he hadn’t misread the situation entirely. “Yeah? Do you know anyone?” he asked, forcing a smile to mask the uncertainty creeping in.

You tilted your head, a teasing grin on your lips as you replied, “I can’t say I do, but if I find someone who screams ‘Spencer Reid,’ I’ll send them your way.” You finished with a wink before turning your attention back to the session.

Spencer’s heart sank. Had he completely misjudged the situation? Maybe his earlier confidence had been misplaced, and the connection he thought was there was just friendly banter after all. As you continued guiding him through the exercises, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of defeat, the playful atmosphere from earlier now tinged with doubt.

Later in the session, you left the room to grab one of the measuring tools you needed, leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. He leaned back on the patient bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to shake off the disappointment gnawing at him.

That’s when he heard voices in the hallway, one of them unmistakably yours. He wasn’t the type to eavesdrop, but curiosity—and maybe a bit of desperation—got the better of him. He strained to listen, his heart beating faster as he realized you were talking about him.

“You think he was going to ask you out?” said another female voice.

“I don’t know, it seemed like it,” you replied, your tone carrying a hint of uncertainty. Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. Had he been that obvious?

“Isn’t that good? I thought you said he was cute and funny,” the other voice continued, sounding encouraging.

There was a brief pause before you responded, your voice a bit softer. “He’s my patient, it doesn’t matter. That can’t happen.”

Spencer’s heart sank further. So that was it. The connection he felt was real, but there was an undeniable barrier between you two—one that you weren’t willing to cross.

“You’re right. Just be nice,” the other voice advised.

“I always am,” you replied, your tone resigned but still kind.

A moment later, the door to the room opened, and you reentered with the measuring tool in hand. Your expression was as warm and professional as ever, but Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment that had settled in his chest. He forced a smile, trying to act as if he hadn’t overheard anything, though the knowledge weighed heavily on him.

The rest of the session continued, but the lightheartedness from earlier was replaced by a quieter, more subdued atmosphere. Spencer kept up the conversation as best he could, but there was a lingering sadness beneath his words. It wasn’t just about his injury anymore—it was about the realization that, no matter how much he might want it, there were some lines that simply couldn’t be crossed.

—

“Hey, Penelope?” Spencer’s voice carried a hint of hesitance as he approached her workstation, trying to muster up the courage for what he was about to ask.

Penelope swiveled her chair around, her bright eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of him. “Yes, my love?” she replied, her usual affectionate tone bringing a small smile to Spencer’s face.

“Do you still have a friend you could set me up with?” Spencer asked, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. He wasn’t sure what had pushed him to ask, but after the recent disappointment, he figured it might be worth a shot.

Penelope’s reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward, her hands clasped together in excitement. “Are you serious? You’re being for real? You’re not just messing with me?”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head at her enthusiasm. “I’m being very serious.”

A squeal of delight escaped Penelope as she practically bounced in her seat. “Yes! I have the perfect friend for you! Oh em gee!!!” she exclaimed, her excitement palpable.

Spencer chuckled, feeling some of his earlier doubts melt away in the face of Penelope’s infectious energy. Maybe this wasn’t what he had originally hoped for, but seeing her so happy about helping him made him feel like he was making the right choice. 

“Tell me everything!” Penelope demanded, her fingers already flying across her keyboard as she began to plan out every detail. “What are you looking for? What should I tell her about you? Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

Spencer smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. It wasn’t the path he had initially imagined, but maybe this new direction would lead to something just as fulfilling. “I trust your judgment, Penelope,” he said with a grin. “Just… make sure she’s okay with a guy who’s a little bit of a nerd, and on crutches.”

Penelope beamed, her heart bursting with joy at the prospect of playing matchmaker for her dear friend. “Spencer Reid, you’re in the best hands. She’s going to love you.”

—

The night of Spencer's blind date had arrived, and his nerves were running rampant. Despite trusting Penelope’s judgment, he couldn't shake the anxiety gnawing at him. She had insisted that he fully embrace the blind date experience, right down to not even knowing the woman’s name. All she had told him was that he should look for a woman in a red dress.

Sitting at the table in the cozy, dimly lit restaurant, Spencer tried to steady his breathing, his fingers drumming nervously against the tablecloth. The uncertainty was overwhelming, and he found himself glancing at the door every few seconds, half-expecting to make a quick exit if things went south.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, and with every passing moment, his heart beat faster. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of deep red fabric. He turned, his breath hitching as he saw the back of a woman at the host's stand, her figure silhouetted perfectly in the elegant red dress. Even from behind, she looked stunning, and for a brief moment, Spencer felt a flicker of excitement, his nerves momentarily forgotten.

But as she turned to scan the room, her eyes searching for him, Spencer’s heart nearly stopped. It was you.

All the blood seemed to drain from his face as he sat there, frozen in place. His mind raced, trying to process what was happening. Of all the people in the world, Penelope had set him up with you—his physical therapist, the woman he had been crushing on for weeks.

You spotted him almost instantly, your eyes widening in surprise, and for a moment, you looked just as shocked as he felt. But then your expression softened, and a small, tentative smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Spencer swallowed hard, his anxiety now mixing with a sense of disbelief. He hadn’t expected this at all. What were the chances? He could barely keep his thoughts straight as you walked toward him, your movements graceful and confident, though there was a hint of nervousness in your eyes that mirrored his own.

“Spencer?” you said softly as you reached the table, your voice laced with surprise and something else—something warm, perhaps even hopeful.

He managed to nod, still struggling to find his voice. “Y-Yes… it’s me,” he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest. “I didn’t… I had no idea…”

You chuckled softly, the sound doing wonders to ease the tension between you. “Neither did I,” you admitted, settling into the seat across from him. There was a playful glint in your eye as you added, “I guess you work in the BAU at the FBI, huh?”

Spencer nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. “I do. How do you know Penelope?”

“We do wine and painting together every month,” you explained with a fond smile, recalling the origins of your friendship. “After a few classes, we started sitting together, and the rest is history.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he let out a small laugh. “I can’t believe you’re my blind date.”

“And you’re mine,” you replied, matching his smile with one of your own.

Spencer hesitated for a moment before asking, “Is that okay? I know I’m your patient…”

You tilted your head slightly, considering his words before replying with a hint of teasing in your voice. “Well, technically, I’m not supposed to see my patients outside of PT… but I’ll make an exception for tonight.”

“Right, tonight,” Spencer echoed, relief and excitement coursing through him. He could hardly believe how the evening had unfolded, but there was something undeniably thrilling about it.

The two of you shared a moment of quiet understanding, the reality of the situation settling in. Despite the unexpected turn of events, the chemistry between you was undeniable, and the restrictions that had once seemed so daunting now felt less significant in the warm glow of the restaurant's soft lighting.

As the evening progressed and the initial surprise wore off, the conversation between you and Spencer flowed effortlessly. There was a natural rhythm to your interactions, a playfulness that neither of you could resist indulging in.

“So, Spencer,” you began, taking a sip of your wine and meeting his gaze over the candlelit table, “what’s it like being a genius? Do you just know everything, or do you still get surprised sometimes?”

Spencer chuckled, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I wouldn’t say I know everything,” he replied, his tone modest but with a teasing glint in his eye. “I get surprised plenty—like tonight, for example.”

“Oh?” you tilted your head, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “Surprised in a good way, I hope?”

“Very good,” Spencer admitted, his eyes flickering to yours, the warmth in his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “I mean, how often does someone get set up on a blind date with someone they already know—and like?”

Spencer’s blush deepened, the pink tint spreading across his cheeks as he looked at you with wide eyes. "Oh, you like me, do you?" you teased, your voice light and playful, but with a hint of something more beneath the surface.

"Was that not obvious?" Spencer stammered, his blush deepening further, and you couldn’t help but smile at how endearing he was.

"It was plenty obvious, Doctor. Don’t worry," you reassured him, leaning in just slightly to close the distance between you.

Spencer let out a small, relieved laugh. "Oh goodie! I was worried I wasn’t making a fool out of myself."

"You weren’t," you said softly, your smile growing as you watched him. There was something so genuine about Spencer, something that made it easy to be honest with him. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Absolutely," Spencer replied, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned in closer, mimicking your earlier movement. "I might tell everyone I know, but you can still tell me."

You giggled at his response, the sound light and full of warmth. "Amazing," you said, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I don’t have to touch you as much as I do during our sessions... I just really like how your legs look in those shorts."

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he seemed completely caught off guard. His mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out. Finally, he managed to stammer, "You… you what?"

"I like how your legs look," you repeated, your tone playful yet sincere. "And those shorts you wear? They make it hard to keep things strictly professional."

Spencer’s blush, which had just started to fade, flared up again in full force. He let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I had no idea… I mean, I didn’t think—"

"You’re cute when you’re flustered," you interrupted gently, reaching out to place a hand over his. The gesture was simple, but it sent a jolt of warmth through both of you. "And just so you know, you’re definitely not making a fool out of yourself. In fact, I’m really glad Penelope set this up."

Spencer looked down at your hand on his, then back up at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and affection. "Me too," he said softly, his voice carrying a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. "More than you know."

—

As the waiter poured the wine, the atmosphere between you and Spencer lightened even more, the earlier nerves melting away with each sip. You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched Spencer take a tentative sip from his glass, his expression one of cautious appreciation.

"How’s the wine, Doctor?" you teased, raising your glass to him with a playful grin.

Spencer chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass like he was trying to remember some long-forgotten etiquette. "I think it’s good," he said, though his tone was more curious than certain. "I’m not exactly a connoisseur, but I think I could get used to this."

"Oh, I bet you could," you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "And who knows, maybe by the end of the night, you’ll be an expert."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. "Are you planning on getting me drunk?"

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice as you replied, "Maybe just tipsy enough to loosen you up, Doctor. You’re pretty cute when you’re not overthinking everything."

He laughed, a sound that was becoming more frequent as the evening went on. "Is that so? Well, in that case, maybe I should order another bottle."

"Oh, I see how it is," you giggled, raising your glass to take another sip. "Trying to get me drunk so I’ll spill all my secrets?"

Spencer leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "I don’t need wine for that. You already admitted you like how my legs look in those shorts."

You laughed, the sound bubbly and warm, and you playfully nudged him with your foot under the table. "Guilty as charged. But don’t get too cocky, Doctor Reid. I’ve got plenty more secrets I haven’t shared yet."

Spencer’s eyes twinkled with intrigue, and he leaned back in his chair, giving you an appreciative once-over. "Now that’s something I’d like to hear more about," he said, his tone flirtatious but with a genuine interest that made your heart flutter.

You smirked, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, you’ll have to earn those secrets, Spencer. I don’t just give them away."

"Challenge accepted," Spencer replied, his grin widening as he clinked his glass against yours. "But I warn you, I’m pretty good at uncovering secrets."

"Is that so?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe I’ll have to keep you on your toes, then."

"I think I’d like that," Spencer said, his voice softening as he held your gaze, the playful banter giving way to something a bit more serious, but no less exciting.

The wine continued to flow, and with it, the conversation grew flirtier, the two of you slipping into a comfortable rhythm that was as intoxicating as the wine itself. The night felt like a blur of laughter, teasing words, and shared glances, each one charged with a growing connection that neither of you could deny.

As the glasses emptied and the night wore on, Spencer couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something new—something wonderful. And by the way you were looking at him, your smile bright and your eyes full of promise, he had a feeling you were thinking the same thing.

—

You held the door open for Spencer as you both exited the restaurant, then hailed a cab with practiced ease. Spencer couldn’t help but notice the way you held the door open for him once more, a small gesture that felt both kind and distant at the same time.

“One stop or two?” the cab driver asked, his voice breaking through the quiet night air.

“Two,” you responded, offering Spencer an apologetic smile that made his heart sink just a little.

As the cab pulled away from the curb, Spencer started to get the sense that this night—this connection—was slipping away, becoming nothing more than a fleeting exchange.

“This isn’t going to continue, is it?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with the disappointment he was trying to keep at bay.

You sighed softly, placing your hand gently on his, your expression filled with genuine regret. “Spencer,” you began, your voice tender but firm, “I’m your physical therapist. You’re my patient.”

“But we like each other,” Spencer pressed, his heart pounding with the desperate hope that maybe, somehow, you could make this work.

“So much,” you agreed, your eyes softening as you met his gaze. “But I can’t cross that boundary.”

“We already did,” he argued, his tone filled with frustration and a touch of disbelief. “We’re more than just patient and therapist.”

You nodded, your expression pained. “We’re friends, and we had a meal together,” you said gently. “But I’m sorry, Spencer. I can’t let it go beyond that.”

As the cab pulled up outside Spencer’s building, he gave you a look that was filled with hurt, disappointment, and a sense of finality. “Maybe Penelope isn’t as good of a matchmaker as I thought,” he muttered, his voice heavy with emotion. Then, without waiting for a response, he slammed the door to the cab shut, the sound echoing in the night as he moved away.

You watched him go, a heavy weight settling in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for him—far from it. But the lines had been drawn, and you knew you couldn’t cross them, no matter how much you wished you could. As the cab pulled away, you couldn’t help but wonder what might have been, even as you tried to convince yourself that you had done the right thing.

—

“Spencer, baby!” Penelope’s voice rang out the moment he stepped into the office the next morning. She rushed over to him, her eyes wide with excitement and anticipation. “How was your date? Did you love her? I know you did!”

Spencer’s expression was flat, his usual warmth replaced by a cool detachment. “I did not,” he replied, his tone clipped and final.

Penelope’s face fell instantly, the excitement draining from her features as she looked at him in shock. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “But… what happened? I thought it was going to be perfect.”

Spencer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. “It wasn’t what I expected, Penelope. I… we had a nice time, but she made it clear that it couldn’t go anywhere.”

“But… but why?” Penelope stammered, clearly upset. “I thought she was perfect for you! I mean, I was so sure…”

“She was,” Spencer admitted, his voice softening. “She’s great, really. But she’s my physical therapist, and she didn’t want to cross that boundary.”

Penelope’s shoulders slumped, guilt and sadness flooding her eyes. “Oh, Spencer… I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I just thought… I just wanted you to be happy.”

Spencer gave her a small, sad smile, trying to ease the tension. “I know, Penelope. And I appreciate it. You were trying to help, and I’m grateful for that.”

Penelope nodded, tears welling up in her eyes as she reached out to hug him. “I’m really sorry, Spencer. I never wanted to make things harder for you.”

Spencer hugged her back, his voice gentle as he reassured her. “It’s okay. You didn’t know, and it’s not your fault. I’m glad you care enough to try.”

Penelope pulled back, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just… I just want you to find someone who makes you happy.”

“I know,” Spencer said, giving her another small smile. “And I will. Just… not this time.”

Penelope nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of unintended consequences. She wanted so badly to make things right for him, but now she could only hope that time would help heal the disappointment she had inadvertently caused.

—

“Y/N, you have a new patient today,” your supervisor informed you as you glanced up from the paperwork on your desk.

“What about Spencer Reid?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual, though the question carried more weight than you intended.

“He’s seeing a different therapist,” your supervisor replied, flipping through the schedule without much thought.

“Oh…” The single syllable lingered in the air, heavy with disappointment. You hesitated for a moment before asking, “Can I ask why?”

Your supervisor looked up, her expression indifferent as she explained, “Something about your schedule not fitting his anymore.”

You nodded slowly, trying to process the news. “Okay, that’s—” you paused, swallowing the lump in your throat, “that’s fine.”

But as you turned back to your paperwork, the reality of the situation sank in. It wasn’t just about schedules or convenience; this was the consequence of the boundary you had enforced, the one that was meant to protect both of you. Yet, knowing that Spencer was now in someone else’s care left a hollow ache in your chest that you hadn’t anticipated.

The rest of the day felt a little off-kilter, your thoughts drifting back to Spencer more often than you’d like to admit. You couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing, whether he was okay, and if he understood why things had to be this way. It was the right decision, you reminded yourself, even if it didn’t feel like it.

—

“Penny, he dropped me,” you said, your voice heavy with disappointment as you leaned against the doorframe of Penelope’s kitchen. “He’s not even my patient anymore.”

Penelope’s eyes widened in surprise, but then a grin spread across her face. “That’s great! You can date now!”

You sighed, shaking your head. “It’s not that simple, Penny. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Penelope’s expression softened, and she gave you a sympathetic look. “He’ll come around. He just feels rejected, that’s all. You could go explain yourself, you know.”

“I don’t even have his number,” you admitted, feeling a pang of helplessness. It wasn’t like you could just show up at his door and expect him to listen. The lines between patient and therapist had already been blurred, and now they were more complicated than ever.

“Uhh, don’t be silly, missy. I do,” Penelope said with a playful smirk, pulling out her phone and waving it in the air like it was the answer to all your problems.

You blinked, surprised by her quick solution. “You’d really give it to me?”

“Of course!” Penelope replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief and a hint of determination. “Spencer’s my friend, and so are you. If there’s a chance you two can work this out, I’m all for it.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks, but the thought of not reaching out to Spencer gnawed at you. Maybe Penelope was right; maybe you needed to explain yourself, to let him know how you really felt.

“Okay,” you said finally, your resolve strengthening. “Give me his number.”

Penelope’s grin widened as she quickly typed on her phone and handed it over to you. “Go get him, girl.”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of nerves and hope as you took the phone from her. “Thanks, Penny. I’ll try.”

—

Later that night, as you sat in the comfort of your apartment, the familiar hum of city life just outside your window, you finally mustered up the courage to dial the number Penelope had given you. Your heart pounded in your chest, each ring feeling like an eternity until you heard his voice on the other end.

“Spencer Reid, who is calling?”

“Hey… it’s Y/N. Your ex-therapist,” you said, your voice softer than you intended, trying to gauge his reaction.

There was a brief pause before he responded, “Oh.”

The single word carried a weight that made your stomach churn with anxiety. You took a deep breath, pushing forward despite the tension. “Yeah, I hope it’s okay I got your number from Penny.”

“Why?” Spencer’s voice was guarded, and you could tell he was still hurting.

“I wanted to talk to you. Can we meet up?” you asked, trying to keep your tone hopeful, though the uncertainty gnawed at you.

“When?” he asked, his voice giving nothing away.

“Tomorrow? You could come over?” you suggested, hoping the familiar, private setting might make things a bit easier.

“Fine. Send me your address,” Spencer replied, his tone clipped but not completely closed off.

“Okay, see you—” you started to say, but the line went dead before you could finish. You stared at your phone, a mixture of relief and nervous anticipation swirling in your chest.

He was coming over. You had a chance to explain, to make things right. But now that the call was over, the reality of what tomorrow might bring settled in. You just hoped that when the time came, you’d find the right words to say.

—

Spencer knocked with perfect punctuality, 6 pm sharp, just as you were adjusting the final details in your apartment. The soft sound of the knock sent a flutter through your chest, a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

You opened the door to find him standing there, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softened as he took you in. “Hi,” you breathed, a bit of your earlier confidence wavering under his gaze.

“Hi, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and calm, though you could tell he was just as unsure as you were. Your beauty, as always, took him by surprise, rendering him momentarily speechless.

“Please, come in,” you said, stepping aside to let him enter.

Spencer stepped into your apartment, his eyes immediately scanning the space. The warm, inviting atmosphere of your home greeted him, filled with soft light from the setting sun filtering through the windows. The room was decorated with personal touches—lush green plants, carefully selected books lining the wooden shelves, and artwork that gave the space a cozy, lived-in feel. It was a reflection of you, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for how things had turned out.

“Can I pour you some wine? I found the one from the restaurant,” you offered, trying to break the tension and bring back a little of the familiarity you both shared that night.

“Sure, thank you,” Spencer replied, his tone polite but still holding a touch of reserve.

You moved to the kitchen area, retrieving the bottle of wine and two glasses. As you poured, you could feel Spencer’s eyes on you, but you didn’t dare look up just yet. There was so much unsaid between you, so much that needed to be addressed, and you weren’t sure where to start.

Handing him a glass, you finally met his gaze. “I’m really glad you came,” you said softly, your sincerity clear.

Spencer took the glass from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. “I wasn’t sure if I should,” he admitted, his eyes searching yours for some kind of reassurance.

“I know,” you replied, taking a small sip of your wine to steady yourself. “But I’m glad you did. We need to talk, Spencer. I need to explain.”

He nodded slowly, his expression softening just a bit. “Yeah… we do.”

You gestured toward the comfortable seating area, and the two of you moved to sit down, the warmth of the room offering a bit of comfort as you prepared to finally have the conversation that had been hanging over you both.

Spencer settled onto the couch, his posture stiff as he tried to maintain a semblance of calm. The warmth of your apartment contrasted with the tension between you, and he took a slow sip of his wine, waiting for you to speak.

You sat across from him, your heart pounding in your chest as you searched for the right words. After a moment of silence, you decided to just be honest. “I’m sorry I rejected you,” you began, your voice soft but steady. “That was wrong of me.”

Spencer’s gaze flickered with surprise, but he remained silent, letting you continue.

“There are things we could have done,” you went on, feeling a weight lift slightly as you spoke. “Ways we could have moved around the rules, ways to handle it more delicately. But instead, I stiffed you and hurt you. I didn’t give us a chance to figure it out. And for that, I’m truly sorry.”

Spencer’s grip tightened slightly around his glass, his expression a mixture of emotions—confusion, hurt, and perhaps a bit of understanding. “It wasn’t just about the rules, was it?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, feeling a lump form in your throat. “No, it wasn’t. I was scared, Spencer. Scared of crossing a line, of losing my job, of making a mistake that couldn’t be undone. But in trying to protect myself, I ended up hurting you… and that’s something I never wanted to do.”

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “I understand why you were scared,” he admitted, his voice softening. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I know,” you whispered, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “And I can’t take back what I did. But I want you to know that I care about you, Spencer. I really do. And if there’s any way we can move forward—whether that’s as friends or something more—I’m willing to try.”

Spencer looked down at his glass, his mind clearly racing as he processed your words. After what felt like an eternity, he finally looked back up at you, his expression gentler than before.

“I care about you too,” he said quietly. “And I want to move forward. But I need to know that we’re both on the same page, that this isn’t just something we’re doing because of… circumstances.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief that he was willing to talk about it. “I agree. I don’t want to force anything. But I also don’t want to walk away from something that could be real, just because it’s complicated.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a small, tentative smile. “I guess we’re both pretty good at making things complicated, huh?”

You chuckled softly, the tension between you easing just a bit. “Yeah, we are. But maybe… maybe we can figure it out together?”

Spencer took another sip of his wine, his smile growing a little more confident. “I’d like that,” he said, his voice warm and genuine.

And with those simple words, the gap that had formed between you began to close, replaced by the possibility of something new—a fresh start, built on honesty, understanding, and the connection you both knew was there all along.

Spencer’s tentative smile grew into something more playful as he leaned back slightly, the tension between you all but dissolved. “Does that mean free, private physical therapy sessions?” he teased, his tone light, though there was a spark of mischief in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound easing the last remnants of anxiety you had been holding onto. Leaning forward, you matched his playful tone, raising an eyebrow as you replied, “Only if you don’t wear any shorts.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and then he laughed—a deep, genuine sound that filled the room with warmth. “I’ll have to consider that,” he quipped, the playful banter between you rekindling that familiar connection.

“Well, take your time,” you said with a grin, feeling the ease and comfort return between you. “But just so you know, I’m a lot stricter when it comes to private sessions.”

“Is that so?” Spencer leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “Maybe I’m up for the challenge.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, the flirtation now fully out in the open. “Well, Doctor Reid, I’ll be sure to make it worth your while,” you replied, your tone equally soft and playful.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, the air between you charged with excitement and anticipation. The conversation had started with apologies and uncertainty, but now, sitting here together, it felt like the beginning of something new—something you were both more than ready to explore.

“Looks like we’ve got a lot to figure out,” Spencer said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a warm smile spreading across your face. “But I think we’re off to a pretty good start.”

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

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[allllium]

Sleepover

~ Soft!Jason is the best Jason

~ WC: 1,566 [Fluff, Hurt/Comfort]

- You and Jason have a sleepover

You and Jason have been dating for a couple months at this point and he has yet to sleepover at your house. Not only that but he's never allowed you to sleep at his overnight. For a while you didn't know whether or not to be offended by this but Jason quickly assured you that wasn't the case.

You know Jason went through some shit, as much as he's tried to hide it, the scar on his chest isn't something he can easily hide from the light. Although he's yet to explain everything to you, you try your best to understand some things he simply can't do.

Once you finally accepted that spending the night with Jason wasn't something you'd be able to do, he surprised you.

“Hey sweetheart.” He greets you as you answer the phone.

“Hey Jay, what's up?” You don't know why he's calling you only an hour before he's coming over for dinner, but to each their own.

“Nothing much. I was just wondering how you felt about having dinner over at my place?”

“Oh um yeah we can do that. Is there any reason?”

“Do I need a reason to cook for the one I love?” He was gonna cook at your house anyway.

“You know you were gonna have to cook at my place anyway, what's really going on?”

“Nothing, baby. I'll see you later?”

“Yeah I'll be there.”

As suspicious as it was, you got ready and began your short journey to Jason's place. Even though you don't know what's about to happen you've eliminated a few options. There's no way he'd want you to come to his apartment if he was going to dump you. Not that he would either way. You think.

When you push open the door, you can see that Jason has already finished preparing dinner. He's now trying and failing to light candles on the table.

“Need help with that?” You ask him, taking off your shoes by the door.

“No, I got it.” He gets the candles lit and turns to greet you properly. With a very excited kiss from your boyfriend and a very fancy dinner, you know something is going on.

“Hi Jay.” You smile sweetly. Giving him a tender hug.

“Hi. I'm glad you're here.” Looking into his eyes you can see the vulnerability shining through.

You look around his apartment to see nothing but furniture. You're well aware of Jason's neat freak habit but somehow something seems different. You decide not to read anything into it, considering he constantly cleans your own apartment when he comes over.

“I'm glad too. But can I know why?” It's not that you don't want to be at his place, it's just that you rarely are. You can count on your hand the amount of times he has invited you to his instead of suggesting yours.

“I just want to enjoy a night here, with you.” That's vague.

“Okay? What's for dinner?” You decide to change the subject, he'll tell you what he's thinking about eventually.

You and Jason eat your dinner in almost complete silence. It's comfortable silence, not that awkward silence when you just don't know what to say. You can tell he's overthinking something but you don't know whether or not you should ask about it. The last thing you want to do is pressure him into talking.

Soon after you move onto the couch to watch a movie. Despite your insistence to clean the dishes before laying down, he drags you with him to watch a movie. Something you've never seen before and low-key have no interest in but you're happy just laying with him while he enjoys it.

“Mm Jay.” You poke at his shoulder and try to get his attention. He quickly looks up at you from his position with his head laying in your lap.

“What's up sweetness?” You can barely hear him though the sleepiness coating his voice.

“I should probably go.” You whisper. This is usually the point where Jason politely but firmly kicks you out. He always tries his best not to be mean about it.

“No?” He says as a question.

“What do you mean? You want me to stay a little longer?” Your heart beats faster as you realize what he might mean. This is ridiculous. So he might want you to stay the night. No need to have a heart attack over it. It's just sleeping.

“Can you stay the night?” He asks, even quieter than before, like he's prepared for you to say no.

“Of course I can.” You immediately confirm, continuing to scratch his scalp as if your heart's not about to beat out of your chest.

“I'm sorry I haven't asked you before.” He begins to explain, you try to tell him he doesn't need to but he continues. “I've wanted to for a while now but I haven't been able to. It's because of you, I have nightmares and I've been too scared to really deal with them. But you make me feel more relaxed than I have ever been.”

“I make you relaxed?”

“What? Is that the only thing you got from that?” He seems genuinely surprised at your single question.

“Well yeah. I like knowing that you feel relaxed around me.”

“You're not worried or anything?” He pulls his head out of your lap to make eye contact as you talk.

“Worried? About what?” You raise your eyebrows in confusion and try to think about something you should be worried about. There's nothing you can think of.

“Well I don't know. Like having your sleep interrupted or having to deal with me in the middle of the night.” The more he talks the more anxious he gets. You can tell he's starting to doubt his decision to ask you to stay.

“Of course not. It's not like I get enough sleep anyway and I am more than happy to help you if that's what you need, at any time.”

“You really do need to get more sleep.”

“Okay Mr falling asleep on me.” You roll your eyes in sarcasm.

“C'mon that's on you. You can't play with my hair and expect me not to react. I'm only human after all.”

“Hmm I'm not too sure about that, you're too perfect to be human.” He gives you a big grin as he stands off the couch and starts to pull you off as well.

“Then I guess we'll be aliens together.” He pulls you into him and looks deep into your eyes.

“Such a sweet talker.” You rebut, trying to keep distracted from the butterflies filling your stomach.

“Yeah, just for you.” He spins you both in the direction of his bedroom. Yeah those butterflies are too strong to ignore.

Sitting on his bed, he stands off to the side of it, contemplating something.

“It's okay Jay, I can go if you need? Or sleep on the couch?” You try to stand but he immediately pushes you back down.

“No fucking way.”

“Are you gonna come sit with me?”

“Yes. I'm just thinking.”

“About?” You gently reach over and pull his hand into yours. Softly coaxing him closer.

“This. Us.”

“Hm all good things?”

“Yeah all good.” He smiles and joins you on the bed.

“Good. I really like you.”

“I really like you too.” You can't hide your smile once you see the slight red tint his face has taken. “Do you want something better to sleep in?”

“Yes please.” Without another word, he grabs you some clothes of his, and lets you change privately.

Soon enough you're laying on your side in his bed with him pressed up behind you. His arms quickly make their way over your body to pull you as close as possible.

“This might be the comfiest I've ever been.” He sleepily tells you, warm breath hitting the back of your neck.

“Me too. Your bed is extremely comfortable.”

“I hope so, I want you here all the time.”

“That can be arranged.” You dig yourself deeper into his bed and arms. You feel as if you've been buried in a giant cocoon of warmth and you never want to leave.

It doesn't take long for you both to fall into a deep sleep, and although you expected it, neither one of you wakes up throughout the night.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Jason greets you sweetly from his place by the stove. The smell of pancakes overwhelms you.

“Good morning Jay. Why are you up so early?” You sit on the counter next to the stove, watching him move gracefully as he cooks.

“I wanted to thank you. I know pancakes aren't the best thank you gift but it's all I have at the moment.”

You quickly cut off his rambling, “thank you gift? For what?”

“For staying with me. Last night was the first night in a long time I haven't woken up from a nightmare.”

“Oh Jay, you don't need to thank me for that. I'm more than happy to be with you.”

You hop off the counter and take the spatula out of his hand. You place your hands on either side of his face and pull him in for a gentle kiss.

“I really like you.” He whispers against your lips.

“I really like you too Jay.” You whisper back, smiles blooming on both your faces.