#I have no room to talk given how long it took me to reply

[inkedbybarnes]

blind date

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: convinced that bucky will never like you back, you agree to a blind date arranged for you to forget about him.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: fluff. two idiots pining over each other (i know, i know. i love the trope). blind dates (they honestly scare me). boundaries being crossed. not so gentleman of a blind date. protective & grumpy bucky (yes, that's a warning!). pet names such as doll. lowercase writing. not proofread.

notes: happy 500 followers to us! hehe. sorry it took long, i waited until i reached that milestone and we finally did! we're growing in our small delulu home, and i love it. <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“come on! tell me more about this mystery guy.”

natasha plopped down the couch beside you while she held a pint of ice cream in her hand and a spoonful on its way to her mouth. you were talking about the blind date that sam arranged for you, and she hasn't stopped asking questions since you mentioned it.

“there's really nothing to tell besides that he's a guy looking for a date and that he's friends with sam. i'm actually surprised that sam set this all up, but i trust him, you know? maybe it'll be nice,” you answered, ignoring the fact that sam suggested this to help you get over your not-so-little crush on a super soldier.

your phone beeped, showing a message sent to you by your teammate. “speaking of the devil, sam just sent me the details but i'm really not sure if i should go. it doesn't feel right.”

“and leave the poor guy waiting? not happening." natasha stuck her spoon into her pint and set it down on the coffee table. “you feel that way because you like someone already, but nothing's going to happen if we'll sit here waiting. you're either giving this date a chance or ask bucky out. it's time you finally go out there and see someone. aren't you sick of us yet?"

“i'm quite sick of you, that's for sure.” you joked, having natasha as your room neighbour and basically your best friend. if you weren't spending your time sleeping in your room, you'd be spending it with her. “i just don't think i should be going on dates when i know i'm technically not emotionally available for others yet.”

“oh, you can't be sick of me. i'm great company." natasha replied confidently. “then why did you agree? we all know, besides barnes, that you've liked him for so long. plus, he's never been with anyone for ages. the two of you makes sense.”

you gnawed on your lower lip, hesitant to tell nat the reason why you agreed to this stupid date, but she was your best friend and also one hell of a spy to even try and hide it. “he told me that he found someone similar to bucky and that i might want to meet him. we agreed to let it be a blind date to avoid the mess of telling them that they're meeting an avenger.”

“i knew it. you're going on a rebound date!” she jumped on her seat, as if she'd solved the winning numbers to the lottery. “there was no way you'd suddenly go on a blind date without a catch. you're too hung up on bucky!”

“keep it down!” you pulled her back into the couch, nervously looking around the room to see if anyone was close by. “i'm pretty sure rebounds only apply to people i've dated. bucky's hardly a candidate for that list.”

“you've liked him for way too long that it basically feels like you had a relationship, and i'm pretty sure he likes you too,” natasha said. “trust me, my guts? golden.”

you winced at the thought. there had been zero signs that bucky liked you back. as much as you trusted natasha and her instincts, this was something you couldn't just assume.

“i don't think so, nat. i've given him enough hints. it's either he's too dense about it or he's just not interested. maybe it's just how it's supposed to be, and i can't keep myself stuck with maybes forever.” you sighed, deciding to finally go to the blind date. “help me pick an outfit?”

“like you even have to ask?” she smiled, dragging you to your room while you were still left with uncertainty in your heart.

the restaurant was one of those hole-in-the-wall places in downtown new york. it had a lot people dining inside, their noise easily heard from the outside, yet the ambiance already felt warm and welcoming. you wondered if sam suggested the place or the guy you were about to meet.

you sighed, giving your chest one last tap since it wouldn't stop beating so fast. it was a wonder how your heartbeat remained stable during a risky mission, while a harmless date had you this nervous. although with that, you felt human.

“okay, let's see where this goes,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your watch that had a tracking device in it, as requested (or ordered) by your best friend.

natasha initially opted to come with you and seat somewhere far, but you told her that you didn't need it. so, she settled with a tracking device, as if you weren't an avenger who could defend yourself. you couldn't find it in you to complain, since this was natasha's own way of showing that she cared.

you entered the restaurant, eyes wandering around the room despite not knowing exactly what to look for. the only details you were allowed to know was that “joseph” knew where to take you, so you assumed that person was one of the staff that you had to look for.

once you found a waitress that didn't look too occupied, you approached her with a smile. “excuse me, may i know where joseph is?”

the lady looked up at you, recognition evident on her face. you were slightly worried that she knew your identity, but she gave you a warm smile and held your arm gently. “oh, he's right there by the counter. let me take you to him!”

she escorted you towards the man handling the counter that seemed to be where the orders were taken. he was shouting various orders behind him while arranging the food on the counter. by the looks of it, he could be the manager or the owner of the place.

“she's here!” the lady beside you exclaimed, catching the full attention of joseph.

“ah, there's our special guest for tonight!” joseph walked around the counter to hug you, as if you knew each other for a long time. “come, come! we have the best spot reserved for you. it's right outside where you can enjoy the view while also having some privacy, eh? your date already arrived, but no worries. he wasn't waiting for too long.”

you were rendered speechless as he took you to the patio, not expecting your date to arrive first, and most importantly not expecting to see him right away. you thought you were early enough, but it seems that your date was an earlier bird than you were.

once outside, all you could see was an empty patio with one man sitting not so far from where you were standing. you hated how you could only see his back and not his face, since he was facing the opposite direction. although, you immediately noticed how he was dressed similarly to bucky.

similar haircut, black boots, and a black jacket. while you weren't sure if they actually looked alike, sam wasn't kidding about them having some similarities.

“how come it's empty out here?” you asked with genuine curiosity. the restaurant was oozing with customers tonight, and they could surely use the extra space outdoors.

“well, uh...” joseph scratched his head, smiling awkwardly as he looked for an answer. “oh, well, stop worrying about that! you're here to go on a date and nothing more! let us worry about that ourselves, hm? come, let's not make your date wait for too long.”

you both walked towards the only table occupied, taking a deep breath before joseph announced, “your date has arrived!”

the man turned around, eyes widened at the sudden noise, but he eventually smiled once he looked at you.

“hey, nice to finally meet you.” he stood up, extending his hand. “i'm martin.”

one look at him and you knew that your heart stubbornly stayed with someone you shouldn't be thinking about.

“i still can't believe that i'm on a date with an avenger.”

you were barely done with your meal despite being here for more than an hour, and martin hasn't been able to stop gushing about your whole avenger sideline. while you understood his excitement, this wasn't the type of date that you hoped for.

“you think i could tell my friends?” he asked, suddenly nudging his chair closer to you that he was basically sitting beside you. “they probably won't believe me, so will it be okay if we took a picture?”

oh, so that's why he moved closer.

“sure.” you forced a smile. “but don't get too close, maybe? i'm.. i'm not that comfortable yet.”

as if you said nothing, he placed an arm over your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. you've been through worse situations than this, but you were highly uncomfortable having your boundaries crossed.

bucky wouldn't do something like this. how did sam think that any of his behaviour was similar to him?

martin already had his phone out, capturing pictures and squeezing your arm, when you decided that this isn't what you wanted, but before you could open your mouth, you felt someone pulling his arm off of you, causing martin to scream.

“what is wrong with you!?” martin shouted, standing up and stepping away while he held his aching arm. when you turned around, you felt your heart stop to find the person you least expected to be here, but wanted the most to be with.

“bucky?”

he did not look at you, his eyes still fixated on martin, nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, standing in front of you as if he was shielding you, while martin took the same amount of steps backwards. “she clearly said no. what the fuck was so hard about understanding that?”

“look, man, i don't know what you're doing here, but i think this is between me and her,” he said, his eyes showing fear as he watched the ex-assassin approach him, hearing the gears of his metal arm whirring.

“give me your phone.” bucky ordered. “now.”

martin immediately fished for his phone, nearly dropping it, and gave it to bucky. “w-what are you going to do?”

“no, this is what you're gonna do,” bucky started, crashing martin's phone with ease and carelessly throwing it to the side. “this date never happened, your friends will hear nothing about tonight, and you will get out of here before i finish counting to three. one...”

in a snap, martin was already out of your sight. if you hadn't known martin before this, you would think he idolised pietro with the way he ran so fast.

“are you okay?”

forgetting about bucky for a split second, his voice jolted you out of your thoughts. you looked up, your heart racing, to find him right in front you.

“what are you doing here?”

“that doesn't really answer my question, doll. answer mine first, will ya? then i'll answer yours.”

“i'm okay, but i can take care of myself. you didn't have to scare the guy.” you sighed, trying your best to look displeased when in fact this has been the happiest you've been tonight. “so? why are you here?”

“well, it's really hard to explain...”

“you better try, barnes, because i am very confused right now,” you said. “one moment i'm on a date with someone, then suddenly my teammate, who i told nothing about said date, appears and crushes the phone of the guy i'm with?”

“natasha told me about it.”

you frowned, not surprised with natasha's gossipy nature, but confused about what she could've said that made him go all the way here.

“i was looking for you since you're always with us during dinner, and nat told me that you were on a date. i couldn't help but ask where and with whom, but she said that she had no idea, that it was a blind date. she was more than glad to tell me where you were, so i came here looking for you.”

“why?” you asked, confused and suddenly hopeful at the same time. although, you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to set yourself up for a heartbreak.

“what do you mean why? that's it. i was just worried, and now you're okay. can we go home?”

he turned his back on you and walked away, you were quick enough follow him, still unsatisfied with his answer.

once you've reached a dark alley where he had his motorcycle parked, you sighed and decided to ask one more time.

“what are you actually doing here, barnes?” you asked. “i want an actual answer or i'm walking home.”

“it doesn't matter,” bucky answered shortly, frustration. written on his face. “why did you agree to this anyway? doesn't feel like something you'd do.”

“you have no idea about what i feel and what i want to do,” you answered. “and you still haven't answered my question.”

“i don't know, okay? i don't know. i just..” he sighed. “i heard the word date and everything didn't make sense. all i knew was that i wanted to follow you here and stop whatever you were doing. i didn't like it.”

“what gives you the right to stop me from going on a date?” you asked, your head jerked back in disbelief. “and why would it even bother you? this is the first time someone went on a date in the team. so what makes mine so different?”

“what do you think?” he asked, his gaze challenging and curious, waiting for your response.

you stood in silence, his question causing a sudden drift in the conversation. you could feel the tension in the air.

“sam made me go to a blind date as well,” he spoke again. “i just remembered that he was asking me where i'd take someone on a date. days after that, he said he found a girl that i might like, and that i should go on a date with her, he suggested that it should be a blind date, knowing that i'm an avenger and all.”

“why didn't you go?”

“i couldn't. i wasn't interested. i knew it wouldn't work.”

“why?”

“because i already like someone.”

your heart sank, a lump forming in your throat as the reality set in that the person you've been pining for was already interested in someone else.

so much for going on a date to forget about him.

“what about you?” he asked. “why did you go?”

because of you, you idiot.

“trying to get over someone,” you simply answered.

“you were seeing someone?” he asked, completely clueless, but suddenly looking uneasy. “i never knew you were in a relationship. i guess, we're not that close, but i thought i'd at least know abou—”

“what? no!” you replied, voice rising as you spoke. "god, i agreed to this date because i wanted to get over you!"

the words slipped out of your mouth, your eyes widening in surprise as you accidentally reveal the feelings you had kept hidden.

bucky blinked, silence hanging in the air. the confession felt heavy between you as you waited for his response.

“i didn't agree to going on a blind date because i have feelings you,” bucky finally spoke, taking a deep breath before continuing, “because i knew i wouldn't enjoy it knowing i'd be thinking of you anyway, because as convinced as i was that you had no interest in me, i'd rather keep my eyes on you than on anybody else.”

“wait, wait, what? you like me?” you repeated in a slightly disbelieving tone, searching his face for confirmation.

“why would i follow you all the way here if i didn't?”

“because you care? and it might be dangerous to go on a date with someone i've never met?” you guessed. “i mean, i think you'd also do it for everybody else, as grumpy as you look like on the outside, you can be a softie sometimes.”

“if i had no feelings for you, i wouldn't be here. you're an avenger for christ's sake. some random guy would be like a training dummy for you,” he answered. “and no, i wouldn't be doing this for anybody else. if the situation's that dangerous, maybe, but a date? you're all adults. you know what you're doing.”

you couldn't help but giggle at his answer, which earned you a glare from him. “what?”

“nothing.” you shook your head. “you sound like an old man lecturing the younger generation.”

“are we completely ignoring the fact that we like each other?”

“that's the only thing on my mind right now.” you admitted. “are you sure about what you just said? it could be the hunger talking.”

instead of answering, bucky took his phone out of his pocket, swiping and tapping on it a few times before taking your hand and placing it on your palm.

“what am i supposed to—”

“just read it.”

choosing not to argue with him, you grabbed the phone with a frown. his messages with natasha were on the screen, starting from their messages from nearly four months ago. you scrolled through their messages, and while they lasted for months, they were all short and straightforward.

three months ago

bucky:

did you arrive safely?

romanoff:

since when did you start asking?

bucky:

?

romanoff:

yes, we arrived safely.

bucky:

👍🏻

romanoff:

really???

two months ago

bucky:

is she okay?

romanoff:

ohhh, that's why you keep texting.

bucky:

answer

romanoff:

geez, barnes.

yeah, she's okay.

bucky:

ok

one month ago

bucky:

she's sick?

romanoff:

yeah, wanna visit her?

you're basically immune.

bucky:

i have a mission

romanoff:

oh yeah

oops

bucky:

are you busy?

romanoff:

nope

why?

bucky:

take my place

romanoff:

no thanks, barnes.

bucky:

i'll take your next task

and the next one as well

romanoff:

why can't you just take this one?

bucky:

nothing

romanoff:

a reason or i'm not doing it.

bucky:

she's sick

i want to stay

romanoff:

oh my god

you're such a sap

fine i'll talk to steve

bucky:

ty

romanoff:

you're using abbreviations now???

bucky:

👍🏻

one week ago

romanoff:

movie night later, don't ditch us again

bucky:

busy

romanoff:

she planned this one

she's worried you won't come

bucky:

i'll bring snacks

romanoff:

i love knowing your weakness

bring popcorn!

bucky:

she prefers pizza over popcorn

does she like popcorn?

romanoff:

nope, but some of us do.

bucky:

ok

romanoff:

so you're bringing popcorn?

bucky:

no

once you were done reading, you returned his phone back to his hand. “you do like me,” you said, the confession finally sinking in.

bucky nodded. “and you like me too.”

“where does that leave us?” you asked, hoping. “are we.. dating now?”

“no,” he answered quickly.

you felt that ache returning in your chest, but before you could say something, bucky already sensed your worries and he wasn't letting you slip away that easily.

“no because i want to do this right. i want to take you out on a date first, bring you flowers, play music and ask you for a dance, all that stuff that you deserve,” he explained, bringing his warm hand to your cheek. “but trust me that it won't take long before i call you mine. i don't think i have the patience for it at this point.”

“you promise?” you rose to your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around him. “i don't want to wait that long either.”

“you won't,” he replied, leaning into you, his lips brushing against your nose before pulling you in a kiss. “i promise.”

this was supposed to have a lil bonus when they got back to the tower, revealing the team's true involvement with the blind date, buttt i might just do it some other time as a snippet/part 2 instead. i still have a few to write anyway, woops.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[dungeons-n-muses]

The Tiefling gave the gnome a questioning look.

"Firstly. Those "lesser folk" are the closest thing I have to a family and I ask that you treat them with a little more respect." A heat began to radiate from her body. One that could burn if any other slip-ups occurred.

"Secondly, unless you want your main mode of transportation to be shot down by his army, stealth will be our only chance." But a brief thought shot through her. It might've been some of the patrons of the bar walking out and exclaiming how crazy it was to see The Scanlan preform at their tavern. But it could be worth a shot.

"Unless..." She trailed off. "If you haven't gone through there during that bastards reign, then he likely would've only heard of your skills but had yet to see it so would want to have a show done in his stuck up honor." She mumbled mostly to herself but was also laying it out as a foundation.

"If you came down not only offering to do a show honor this achievement he's got coming up, ut also came to turn me in for the reward money. I could bust out later and while you're distracting him with your music, I come out and immobilize him." She explained, her heat dying down and a hopeful smile taking its place. This would be the first time she had someone popular on her side and from what she saw it was a clear shot. Though her acting may need a brush up.

Well that was one way to make a performance. A bit more purple smoke then she had expected, but heck, that’s a bard for you.

Though it wasn’t the performance she was looking for, it was the patrons she was after. One by one, she noticed their recognition as he recalled his grand stories. Dragons? Vampires? Well, this certainly wasn’t no ordinary bard. Though the question came to her ‘Why would he depart from this grand group?’

Eventually, she stood up and leaned up against the table. Waiting for her preforming new sidekick to finish his song. Though for a brief moment, she caught her tail swish to the beat of the tune, to which she abruptly stopped herself and watched on.

Soon as the song had finished and the fans were quenched, Dany gave a little smirk. “A bit more flare then I expected, but I can see that the folk know you well enough. I’ll admit, the tale about the dragons were certainly interesting. But anyways, a deals a deal. I’ll let you tag along.” She chuckled lightly to herself. “But you’ll have to keep that flare of yours to a minimum.” And with that, her smirk died down just a bit and motioned her head to the door. Indicating that they should change locations for the conversation to continue.

Stepping outside of the tavern, the half-demon let her wings stretch out a bit as she made her way to a nearby willow. Who’s long reaching branches acted as a long natural curtain. Once in its shade, Daenerys set down her traveling pack and sat beside it before digging into it. Eventually pulling out a folded map and a pen and unfolding the map to show.

“We are here.” She said, making a mark with her pen. “The town is about a weeks journey staying the road.” She marked the path. “But the woods can be used as a short cut. But, um...” she hesitated while marking the path. There was a black scribble where something should be that took her attention for a moment. “It’s got more risk.” She quickly resumed after a shake of her head.

“Either way. The end goal is to approach the town as inconspicuously as possible. I’ve got a few spells under my wing to help us but after that, we’ll have to be careful.” She explained.

[kykyonthemoon]

His Mini Version

His reaction when he saw the little doll version of himself that you possessed.

── .✦ Character x Female Reader (MC)

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Sylus, Caleb.

♡︎. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, soft and sweet, plush dolls, established relationship, jealousy (Xavier's part), long distance relationship (Caleb's part)

♡︎. Word count: ~2k4

♡︎. Requested by Yue AuV.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

Rafayel

“Huh?”

Rafayel picked up the plush doll on the table, examined it for a moment, then turned to you and asked, "Is this how you think of me?"

You blinked. "Lovely, right?"

Rafayel frowned. He raised the doll to your eye level and said:

“Hear me out, Miss Bodyguard. I do look handsome and stylish, my physique is toned, with a model-like form. Yet, why... Why is this doll that you believe to resemble me so... chubby?"

"Rafayel!" You shrieked and swiftly grabbed both hands to cover the doll's ears. "How can you say that in front of Little Fish?! He'll feel terrible for himself!"

Rafayel gazed at you, then at the plush doll you had just given a name. His body was spherical, with small arms and legs coming out of it. His face was likewise round and fully linked to his body, resembling a huge cotton ball with purple hair patches on top.

"I've gained a little weight lately," Rafayel said, pouting while rubbing his belly. “But I'm definitely not that round!”

“I made him exactly like you for a purpose. Criticizing him means you are criticizing yourself.”

Rafayel did not give up. He took up Little Fish and brought it near to your face so you could compare. 

“Don't you think he's muuuuuuuuch less attractive than me? His body is not as beautiful as mine. He is not as cute or talented as me. Can he paint? Can he make you laugh? What makes you think he can ever replace me?!”

You tried not to laugh when Rafayel puffed up his cheeks, looking like a pufferfish, even identical to that plump plush doll. You replied:

“Well, you don't know that Little Fish also has a very special feature that is different from other dolls!” 

"What's so amazing about it? Tell me."

You extended your hands to accept the doll from Rafayel. When you gently squeezed the center of his chest, Little Fish made a sound mimicking Rafayel's voice:

“Hello Miss Bodyguard! Hello Miss Bodyguard!”

Rafayel stared at him with wide eyes. His demeanor changed from astonished to slightly suspicious.

"I recorded your voice," you added. "Simply hit the button, and he will talk. I can make a new recording if you want. What do you think? He's good, huh?"

You enthusiastically hugged Little Fish and approached him. Rafayel simply scratched his head. “Humans certainly have many strange toys,” he commented. But in the end, seeing you having so much fun with the plush doll, he patted your head and said: "Even though it's a bit ugly and weird compared to my standards, I'm still happy that Miss Bodyguard likes me so much that she even owns a plush doll designed after me!"

Xavier

Since joining Lumiere's fanclub, which was founded by your colleague Nero, you frequently brought home merchandise related to him. There were badges, cards, decorations, and even cotton goods. Among the dozens of Lumiere products that take up room in your residence on a daily basis, you absolutely adored the plush doll named Lumi.

Lumi had two bunny ears and was only a little larger than your hand, making him easy to carry anywhere and at any time. When you worked, he would stand on the desk to encourage you. When you trained, he would slip into your coat pocket and patiently wait for you on the bench. Every time you went out, you carefully put him in your bag. When you arrived home, he was usually on the couch next to you, or cuddled in your arms while you watched TV together. Even when you slept, you would bring him into bed, place him next to your pillow and cover him with a blanket.

Needless to say, this made Xavier quite uneasy. He had not liked Lumi one bit since he appeared in your arms for the first time. The plush doll occupied all your attention. He accompanied you everywhere, all the time. Your phone was full of pictures of him. Even when you slept, the doll was allowed to sleep with you while Xavier was left out. He sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms and glancing at Lumi.

“That's it, kiddo.”

Lumi opened his large blue eyes to stare at Xavier.

“You must leave.”

A rabbit ear on Lumi's head drooped down. 

“Give her back to me. Besides, the place where you sleep used to be mine."

The plush doll continued to stare at him with such innocence. Just as Xavier was about to pick him up, you walked into the room. You had changed your clothing, and of course, your pajamas included Lumiere's chibi pattern on them.

“What are you talking about with little Lumi?” You asked.

“Ah, nothing. I'm just telling him to go away.”

"Huh? Why? He's so little, he won't take up too much room on the bed, right?"

Xavier gave him a glance before turning to you, and his eyes quickly returned to their round, watery condition.

“He's been following you all day. Why does he even take my place at night? Do you really like him more than me?”

Xavier knew too well that you easily got softened when he acted like that. If Lumi's cuteness captured your heart, he would reclaim it by the same method.

“It's not like that,” you replied. One of your hands caressed Xavier's cheek. “Lumi is the one who will protect me in my dreams on the long nights while you're not here.”

Xavier rubbed his face into your palm. He said, “But now that I'm here, Lumi can go elsewhere.”

You thought what he said was right. So you compromised and placed the doll on the opposite side of your pillow, rather than between you and Xavier as previously. You snuggled into Xavier's arms. He remained silent, as if he had a lot on his mind. Then, after you had fallen asleep, he covertly grabbed Lumi and threw him to the ground, then hugged you even tighter.

Zayne 

You set a lunch box on Zayne's desk, then placed something else on top. 

It was a little plush doll measuring about ten centimeters. He had black hair, green bean eyes with a little brownish-yellow tint, he also donned a white blouse just like a certain doctor. 

“What do you have there? A mini version of me, it seems?” Zayne asked while putting away the files on his desk to prepare for lunch with you.

“Hehe,” you happily took the doll. He nestled into the palm of your hand. “Doctor Zayne, look how small you are! I can hold you with just one hand.”

Zayne gave you a little grin. Then he grabbed your other hand, pulling you closer to him.

"Of course." But if you use both hands, you'll be able to handle more than one Doctor Zayne.

You grasped both big and small Zayne with care.

Lunch that day went really well. Before departing, you slipped the little plush doll inside your coat pocket on the left side of your chest, patted it a few times, and told Zayne:

“This is where tiny Zayne will stay every day.  I will take him everywhere, including work, amusement parks, and even home. He will always be by my side!”

Zayne smiled and responded, "It turns out that I can cure not only your heart disease, but also your love sickness?"

You blushed. The Zayne standing in front of you suddenly leaned down, as if talking to the little doll in your pocket: "Miss Hunter and this plush doll's entire day would be so hectic. Would you mind asking her whether she still has time to join me for dinner tonight?"

You laughed when you noticed Zayne's childishness. You replied: “Of course I do. But after all, little Zayne is still an intern here. What are Doctor Zayne's thoughts about being his mentor?"

Zayne stood up straight, tenderly touching the doll's cheek with his finger. "All right. I'll be spending time with Intern Zayne. But when I do that, the lady who takes care of Intern Zayne should come along as well.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Zayne's fingers rose to push on your face. You puffed up your cheeks and nodded firmly in accord. From that day on, all your dates with Zayne were accompanied by little Intern Zayne, and he even made arrangements for the doll to have a separate seat by the windshield of his car.

Sylus

Sylus made frequent late-night visits to your place. That night was no exception. But he was astonished to see you open the door with a worn out expression, dragging a big plush doll on the ground.

"Why does it look so familiar?" Sylus spoke after studying the doll. He was around sixty centimeters tall, with white hair, red eyes like two rubies, and a signature smirk that looked so much like Sylus's.

"Huh? Oh, Baby Crow is a mini version of you!” You replied. After closing the door, you strolled back to the living room, holding the doll. You and him fell onto the sofa. Feeling tired after a long day, you had decided to hug the doll to bed before Sylus arrived.

He looked at you and that Baby Crow doll on the sofa and clicked his tongue. “It's a little huge compared to the definition of mini. And what the heck are you putting on me?”

Sylus snatched him out of your grasp. The doll - his little version - was dressed in pink Hello Kitty patterned pajamas,  identical to the ones you were wearing. He frowned.

“You and the doll even have matching pajamas. Where are mine then?”

Slowly opened your eyes on the sofa, you giggled: "Seeing that you like it so much, I will make you a set tomorrow. There are also Kuromi ones."

Sylus leaned down and kissed your hair, whispering: "Sleeping on the sofa will hurt your body." Then he helped you get up. You wrapped all of your limbs around Sylus's torso, as he held you with one hand and carried Baby Crow inside the room with the other.

Another night, when Sylus arrived home late, he caught you cuddling Baby Crow and sleeping soundly on the bed. Both of you were wearing the purple Kuromi pajamas you had mentioned before. He grinned as he softly punched Baby Crow. 

“Hey, you're taking up my space,” he told him.

The plush doll's challenging smile appeared to be taunting him. Sylus removed him from your arms and placed him at the end of the bed. Because there was nothing left to hug, you rolled over slightly, your fingers constantly searching for warmth until you found him.

Sylus took the doll's place, held you, and allowed you to immerse yourself in his arms. He said quietly: "You don't need a plush version of me anymore when you have the real one here, right?"

The next morning, still drowsy, you cuddled him and told him that your Baby Crow had grown into a genuine person.

Caleb

Caleb sent you a surprise package. Curious, you opened it and discovered a plush doll the size of a pillow inside. What was worth noting was that the doll resembled him, with purple eyes and an apple on his head. You phoned to show off to Caleb, who was still on duty at Skyhaven.

“Oh, you got him? I mean, Baby Cal?”

“You even have a name for him?” You grabbed the doll and placed him in your lap so Caleb could see him through the video call screen.

"Of course. I purposefully ordered him specifically for you. He's a present.” Caleb smiled brightly. He was free at the time, but his mission had yet to end so he could not come home to you right away.

You gazed down at the doll on your lap. He was so warm, and his adorable chubby face reminded you so much of Caleb. You inquired:

“But why did you send him to me?”

"To keep you company when I'm away on missions, of course," was his reply. "He will remind you to eat and go to bed on time, or hug you when you're weary."

You touched Cal's head. It was true; he was so soft that you simply wanted to squeeze him.

"Is this your compensation for not coming home for a month?"

Caleb laughed. He seemed a little sad. Then he instantly returned to his regular fresh appearance.

“Do you like him?”

"Of course. I can even release my rage on him every time I'm angry at you. Look!”

Having said that, you squeezed the doll's cheeks really hard. Caleb laughed from the other side of the screen. "Poor, little Cal. It looks like he'll have to take my position as your punching bag for a while now."

You kneaded the doll's cheeks again. He even donned a military uniform similar to Caleb's. The doll would not be able to replace him, you know; yet his existence would sooth your longing for the real person.

You leaned your head against Cal and asked Caleb:

“I have Cal here. What about you?”

“Oh, wait a minute.”

Caleb disappeared from the screen. You heard a rustling noise. A few minutes later, he emerged with another plush doll dressed in a Hunter suit. You immediately recognized it as a plush replica of yourself.

“This is little Hunter,” said Caleb. “She and little Cal are a couple. Every time I look at her, I will always think of you. For example, when I enter the room, she will appear and say: 'Why haven't you bought a ticket to Linkon yet?!' or 'You still dare to stay up late playing games?!'..."

You burst into laughter. "I didn't say it in that awful voice. But how old are you to even buy these things?..."

“I've been teased a lot by colleagues these past few days since I got little Hunter,” Caleb told you. “But since I think you also like plushies, I wanted to make something for you.”

"Thank you." You smiled, lovingly rubbing the doll he sent. “I like little Cal, but he's going to miss little Hunter very much. You mentioned that they were a couple. It means they should not be apart for too long, right?”

[paddockletters]

style pit stop | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader summary: Max lets you dress him up for a change, showing off a new look at the paddock author´s note: first story with Max, and you have no idea how much I enjoyed it! I've been wanting to write for him for a while, and well, I loved the result and hope you do too.

It started as a casual comment during breakfast in our hotel room, the sun pouring through the windows, illuminating the crisp white sheets of our bed. Max and I were preparing for the upcoming race weekend, and the atmosphere was light, filled with the excitement that always accompanied a race.

“Max, I swear your entire closet is just Red Bull jackets, white T-shirts, and jeans. Nothing else,” I said, leaning over the table, eyeing his typical outfit of the day.

 “I happen to think I’ve got a classic style. Simple and effective.” Max raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.

 “Simple is an understatement. I mean, even AlphaTauri has given you all this fancy stuff to try, and you just let it sit there. Have you even worn half of it?” I rolled my eyes playfully.

“What am I supposed to do with half of that? Wear it to a race? You’d just laugh.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee

“Of course I’d laugh!” I retorted, grinning. “But I’d also help you look better. Bet you wouldn’t let me dress you for one day, then. Try something different.”

 “Fine. I’ll take your bet. But if anyone laughs, you’re paying for dinner.” Max chuckled, clearly intrigued.

Within minutes, I was rummaging through his suitcase, pulling out the neglected AlphaTauri clothes he claimed were “too much effort” to style. I held up a pristine white button-up and slim-fit black trousers, a sleek gray turtleneck, and a pair of black boots that had clearly never seen the light of day.

“Look at this! You could rock this outfit!” I said, holding the turtleneck against his chest.

Max gave me a skeptical look as he reluctantly pulled it on, but I couldn't help grinning as he finally stood up. The way it hugged his frame was… honestly, distracting.

 “It feels kind of tight.” He turned to the mirror, tugging at the sleeves.

“It’s supposed to fit” I insisted, smirking. “Now, for the trousers.”

Max fumbled a bit with the slim black pants, grumbling as he zipped them up.

“I look like I’m about to go to some fancy dinner” he complained, though I could see he was beginning to enjoy the attention.

“Exactly the point” I replied, holding up the leather boots. “And these. They’ll add a bit of height too.”

He scoffed but slipped them on anyway, taking a few exaggerated steps around the room like he was testing new racing boots.

“Happy now?”

“Very” I replied, snapping a quick photo. “Now let’s get to the paddock before you change your mind.”

The reaction at the paddock was priceless. As soon as we stepped in, Lando spotted us and nearly choked on his coffee, doing a double-take.

“Wait, Max… are you actually dressed up? Did y/n have a part in this?”

“Blame her” Max said, giving me a mock glare.

“Mate, I didn’t even know you owned a turtleneck. You look like you’re about to do a TED Talk.” Lando circled him, taking in the outfit.

“Or go to a very exclusive dinner,” Pierre teased, coming up next to us, flashing me a grin. “Nice work, y/n. About time someone taught him some style.”

 “Alright, you’ve all had your fun. Can we please get back to normal now?” Max rolled his eyes, giving me a helpless look.

“Oh, no way,” I laughed, linking my arm with his. “You’re keeping it on all day. And just think, you’re setting new fashion standards for the grid.”

As we entered the Red Bull hospitality, the reactions came in waves: team members did double takes, fans gasped, and then there was Checo, who took one look at Max and immediately burst into laughter.

“Dios mío, Max! I didn’t even recognize you,” Checo said, giving me a grin. “So, y/n finally got her way?”

“Finally?” I echoed, pretending to be offended. “Please, Checo. It wasn’t even that hard. A little style goes a long way.” 

Christian strolled over, eyebrows raised as he took in Max’s look.

“Well, well, Max, didn’t know you had it in you,” he joked, clapping Max on the back. “AlphaTauri’s sales will skyrocket after today. You could be their new poster boy.”

“Honestly, I think we should get her to dress all the drivers. Just imagine how well AlphaTauri would sell with these outfits!” Checo chimed in, a teasing glint in his eyes.

 “I’ll dress all of you if you want. Just wait until I’m done with Max.” I laughed, joining in the fun.

“You’re all too easily impressed. But maybe y/n should take her fashion skills elsewhere and help Checo. He could use the help.” Max smirked, glancing at me

“Oh no, Max, you’re on your own with this one. Besides, I doubt I could pull off the ‘turtleneck model’ look as well as you.” Checo raised his hands in defence, shaking his head with a laugh.

I snickered, nudging Checo playfully.

“Are you sure? I was thinking I could start dressing you and Max in matching outfits. You know, really take this team bonding to the next level.”

Max chuckled, draping an arm around my shoulders.

“You hear that, Checo? Get ready. Y/N’s got big plans for you, too.”

 “If this turns into some kind of Red Bull makeover challenge, I’m blaming both of you.” Christian couldn’t contain his laughter, shaking his head.

Checo leaned in, stage-whispering to me.

“Just don’t get me in that turtleneck, okay? I have a reputation to keep.”

“Noted” I replied with a wink. “But we’ll see what I can do.”

By the time we reached the main area, I was wearing his oversized Red Bull jacket, practically swimming in it, while he strutted around in his AlphaTauri ensemble.

Fans caught on quickly, cameras flashing as they captured the two of us walking arm in arm, with Max.

“Look, there’s your fan club” I teased, nudging him playfully as we passed a group of fans eagerly pointing their cameras at him.

Max smirked, leaning down to whisper.

“I bet they wish I’d dress like this all the time.”

We reached his garage, and one of the engineers gave him an approving nod.

“You clean up well, Verstappen” he commented, giving me a grin. “And y/n, you’re pulling off the Red Bull look better than he does.”

 “Unbelievable. I get roasted in my own team garage?” Max pretended to be offended.

“You’re the one who agreed to this!” I teased, nudging him as we walked further inside.

He shook his head, pulling me closer. “Just remember this next time you’re insisting I need more ‘style.’ I went through a whole day looking like some model just to prove you wrong.”

“Oh, please” I laughed, leaning into him. “Admit it—you loved it.”

Max grinned, brushing a quick kiss to my temple. “Maybe. But only because I have you to make it fun.”

[reidmarieprentiss]

Say Don't Go

Summary: You are given the opportunity of a lifetime, Spencer urges you to take it. Even if it means leaving him behind.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: time jumps, typical BAU crime, mentions of drugging/kidnapping/robbery, brief alcohol consumption by reader and friends, clubs, break up(?), talks of marriage, forced choices/decisions, happy ending !

Word count: 15k

a/n: so what if this pulls inspiration from the train scene in glee... SO WHAT ... and so what if i named a character after kurt

main masterlist

December 2008 – Present

"You’ve been with so many women you don’t remember their names?" Spencer asked, laughing at Derek.

"Are you surprised?" Emily snorted, raising an eyebrow.

"This has never happened to me before," Derek defended, sounding genuinely incredulous.

"It’s never happened to me before either," Spencer chimed in, grinning as he started toward the conference room.

"It can’t happen to you—you have an eidetic memory," Emily teased, her smirk unmistakable.

"Plus, you only have one name to remember," Derek added with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Ha ha," Spencer replied, forcing a laugh, though the words cut deeper than he let on. Derek wasn’t wrong.  

He only had one name to remember. One that mattered above all the others.  

But Spencer had messed it up. He had let you get on that train. He had let you walk away.

Spencer's regrets weren't always loud or obvious; they often whispered to him in the quiet moments of his everyday life, weaving their way into his thoughts like unwelcome visitors he couldn’t shake.

It was in the mornings, when he brewed a pot of coffee in his lonely apartment, and his hand hovered over the second mug he used to pour for you. He’d catch himself mid-motion, the pang of realization that you weren’t there cutting through him like a knife. He’d take his coffee black, staring at the empty chair across from him, and wonder if you were having your morning cup too—if you still took it with two sugars and a splash of cream.

At work, it was the little things that brought you to mind. A joke Derek would make, or the way Emily tilted her head while teasing him, reminded Spencer of how you used to laugh with him, soft and genuine. He could still hear your voice in the back of his mind, offering your take on a case or pointing out something he’d missed. Those moments were the hardest—because they reminded him of how much better everything had been when you were there to share it with him.

And then there were the books. Spencer couldn’t walk into his favorite bookstore without being overwhelmed by the memory of browsing the aisles with you, debating over which novel to pick for your next "couples read." Now, those shelves felt empty, even when they were fully stocked. He’d run his fingers over the spines, pausing at titles he knew you would’ve loved, but he never brought himself to buy them. What was the point if you weren’t there to read them with him?

Evenings were the worst. After a long day at the BAU, when he returned to his dim apartment, the silence was deafening. He’d sit at his desk, pulling out old case files to distract himself, but his eyes would always drift to the small keepsake box he kept on the shelf. Inside were the remnants of your time together—a movie ticket stub, a pressed flower from a date, a Polaroid of you laughing at something he’d said. He’d told himself he’d put it away to move on, but instead, it became a shrine to his mistakes, one he visited more often than he’d like to admit.

And then there were the nights when the ache became unbearable, when he’d lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, haunted by the image of you boarding that train. He could still hear the sound of the wheels on the tracks, still see the tear-streaked expression on your face when you looked at him through the window. Those nights, he’d wonder what he’d say to you if he had another chance—what he’d do differently if he could go back. 

The regret wasn’t just a feeling; it was a constant presence in his life. It was the realization that, in trying to give you what he thought you needed, he’d taken away the one thing he needed most: you.

—

June 2008

“Spencer?” you asked cautiously, looking over at your boyfriend as his car came to a stop in front of the train station.  

You could see him take a deep, trembling breath, the shakiness audible even as he tried to steady himself.  

When he turned to face you, his eyes were already brimming with tears, spilling over before he could even speak.  

“You said we were going to dinner,” you reminded him, your throat tightening as dread began to settle in your chest. You were trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling you couldn’t shake, clinging to the hope that you were wrong.  

Spencer cleared his throat, but it didn’t stop his voice from breaking as he said, “No.” He shook his head, and the weight of his next words seemed to crush him as he continued, “You’re going to New York.”  

“What?” Your voice shot up as you stared at him in disbelief, as if he had grown another head. “What do you mean? I turned Aubrey down.”  

“I know,” Spencer sighed, his gaze dropping to his hands on the steering wheel as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I can’t let you throw your dreams away for me.”  

“My dreams?” you repeated, your voice rising in anger and heartbreak. “Spencer, you are my dream. I love you!”  

“I love you too,” he choked out through his tears, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “That’s why I’m letting you go.”  

“But—” you tried, your hands reaching for his as if grounding him could change his mind.  

“No, Y/N.” His voice was firmer now, though the pain in it was unmistakable. “I—I called Aubrey. She still wants you. I told her you accepted the position. That you’re coming.”  

“Why?” you cried, the single word breaking into a sob. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you searched his face, desperate for an answer that would make this make sense.  

Spencer’s lips quivered, and he looked away, unable to face the devastation in your eyes. "Because you deserve to have everything you’ve ever wanted," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the lump in his throat.  

"But I already have everything I want!" you shouted, your hands gripping the sides of his face, forcing him to look at you. "You’re all I need, Spencer. You’re it for me!"  

He let out a shuddering breath, his tears falling freely now as his hands reached up to cover yours. For a moment, you thought he might give in, that he might change his mind. But then he shook his head again, his expression resolute despite the anguish etched into every line of his face.  

"You’ll resent me one day," he said, his voice cracking. "You’ll look back and wonder what you could’ve done, what you could’ve been if you hadn’t stayed for me. I can’t live with that. I can’t live knowing I held you back."  

"That’s not fair!" you cried, your voice breaking under the weight of your sobs. "You don’t get to decide what’s best for me! I chose you, Spencer. I chose us!"  

"I know," he whispered, his hands tightening over yours as if trying to memorize the feeling. "And that’s why I have to do this. Because I love you too much to let you give up your future for me."  

"My future is with you!" you insisted, but he was already pulling your hands away from his face, gently but firmly.  

"I called Aubrey," he repeated, his voice hollow. "She’ll be waiting for you at the station in New York. Your ticket is already bought. Your bags… they’re in the trunk."  

You froze, staring at him in disbelief. "You… you packed my things?"  

Spencer nodded, his expression breaking entirely under the weight of your hurt. "I knew you wouldn’t leave if I didn’t."  

"You had no right!" you shouted, shoving at his chest. "No right, Spencer!"  

He took it, letting you pound against him until your strength gave out, until your sobs consumed you, leaving you trembling and broken in his arms. "I’m sorry," he murmured over and over, pressing his lips to your hair. "I’m so sorry."  

But he wasn’t sorry enough to stop you from going.  

As the train whistle sounded in the distance, Spencer gently pulled away, his hands lingering on your shoulders. "You have to go," he said softly, his voice thick with tears. "The train won’t wait."  

"I hate you," you whispered, the words cutting him deeper than anything else ever could.  

"I know," he said, his voice barely audible as he let his hands drop to his lap. "But one day… I hope you’ll understand."  

He opened the car door for you, but you didn’t move. You just sat there, staring at him with tears streaming down your face, your chest heaving with the weight of everything unsaid.  

Finally, you whispered, "Goodbye, Spencer," your voice trembling as you stepped out of the car.  

He didn’t respond, didn’t say anything as he watched you walk away, each step feeling like a dagger to his heart.  

And when the train finally began to pull out of the station, Spencer felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. The reality of what he’d done crashed into him like a freight train. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. 

Before he even realized what he was doing, his legs were moving, carrying him toward the train. "No," he whispered to himself, his voice shaky and panicked. "What have I done?"  

His feet pounded against the pavement as he ran alongside the train, desperate, tears streaming down his face. He called your name, his voice breaking, though he wasn’t sure if you could even hear him through the thick glass and the noise of the train.  

Inside the train car, you were curled into the seat, staring blankly out the window, your face streaked with tears. You weren’t expecting to see him. But then, there he was—running alongside the train, his expression frantic, his lips forming words you couldn’t quite hear.  

Your heart shattered all over again. The sight of him, so desperate, so raw, made it even harder to leave. Your hand instinctively pressed against the cold glass, a futile attempt to reach for him.  

Spencer’s legs burned, his lungs screamed for air, but he kept running, the distance between him and the train growing with every passing second. His vision blurred from the tears, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.  

But you… you couldn’t bear to watch. Your tears fell harder as you pulled your hand away from the window and turned your head, unable to keep looking at him. You had to look away, even though it felt like it was tearing you apart from the inside.  

Spencer stumbled, slowing as the train picked up speed, his legs finally giving out beneath him. He collapsed onto the pavement, gasping for air, watching helplessly as the train—and you—disappeared into the horizon.  

He buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs. "What have I done?" he whispered to no one, the words echoing into the empty night.  

You were gone. And Spencer knew, deep down, that he’d just made the worst mistake of his life.  

—

September 2008

You loved your new life. How could you not? You had everything you had once dreamed of—your new position as second in command to the CEO of your favorite designer brand was everything you’d worked so hard for. The thrill of overseeing campaigns, approving designs, and brushing shoulders with some of the biggest names in the industry was exhilarating.  

You’d settled into your new routine as well as anyone could when starting fresh in a bustling city like New York. Moving in with Aubrey Wilkes, the CEO herself, was daunting at first, but she made it easier. Her mentorship was invaluable, and her sharp wit and genuine kindness turned her into a friend as much as a boss.  

Your days were filled with meetings in glass-walled boardrooms, late nights spent poring over designs and strategies, and the occasional glamorous event that kept your calendar full. You had the life you always said you wanted.  

And yet...  

Every single day, Spencer found his way into your thoughts.  

It wasn’t always obvious at first. Maybe it was a book you saw in a shop window that reminded you of one of his recommendations, or a classical piece playing softly in a café that you knew he loved. Sometimes it was the sound of someone’s laugh that carried the same rhythm as his, or the sight of a man at the train station holding a bouquet of daisies like the ones he used to bring you.  

Other times, it was the silence that brought him back. At the end of a long day, when you’d kick off your heels and collapse onto your couch, you’d find yourself wishing you could tell him about your wins and your struggles. You’d wonder how he’d react to the stories you had to tell, imagining his soft smile or the way his hands would flutter nervously when he was excited for you.  

There were nights when it hit harder—when the city lights felt too bright and the penthouse apartment too cold. On those nights, you’d curl up in bed and stare out at the skyline, wondering if Spencer ever thought about you, too. If he regretted what he’d done. If he missed you as much as you missed him.

Because no matter how perfect your new life seemed on paper, a part of you still felt like it was missing. And that part had a name. Spencer Reid.

—

February 2007

It was a crisp evening as the warm glow of the restaurant's candles reflected off the polished surfaces, casting a cozy light over the two of you. Spencer had chosen this place because it was where you first met, a sentimental touch to the holiday of love that made your heart swell. The quiet buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses provided a soothing backdrop as you both enjoyed your meal, the comfort of each other's presence making the night feel perfect.

You were mid-laugh at something Spencer had said when a woman approached your table, her eyes wide with admiration. "I’m so sorry to bother you," she began, her voice apologetic but earnest. "But that is the most fabulous dress I have ever seen. Can I ask where you got it?"  

Caught off guard, you felt heat rush to your cheeks as you glanced down at the material that clung to your body in all the right places. You smoothed your hand over the fabric, feeling both flattered and shy under the woman’s praise.  

Spencer, noticing your blush, smirked proudly from across the table. His hand reached out instinctively, wrapping around yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his touch grounded you, reminding you that he was there, always your biggest supporter.  

"I–um," you stammered, your voice soft as you tried to find the words. "I made it."  

The woman’s face lit up with genuine astonishment. "You made it?" she repeated, her tone filled with awe. "That’s incredible. You have such talent."  

Spencer’s smirk deepened into a full-blown grin as he interjected, his voice laced with pride. "She’s amazing, isn’t she? I keep telling her she could make a career out of this, but she’s too modest to listen."  

"Spencer," you mumbled, playfully rolling your eyes at him as your blush deepened.  

The woman smiled warmly at the exchange, clearly charmed by the both of you. "Well, if you ever decide to give your talents to the world, give me a call." With a quick admiring glance at your dress one last time, she handed you a business card before turning to rejoin her party, leaving you and Spencer alone once again.  

You stared at the card in your hand, the golden lettering catching the soft glow of the restaurant’s lights. Your heart nearly stopped as you read the name printed at the top—Aubrey Wilkes.  

Your favorite designer.  

The logo you’d admired countless times on magazine covers and in shop windows felt surreal in your grasp. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the weight of the opportunity this might represent sinking in.  

Spencer noticed the stunned look on your face and tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone soft yet concerned.  

You slowly turned the card toward him, your hand trembling slightly. "It’s… her," you whispered, your voice barely audible.  

Spencer leaned closer, his eyes scanning the card before widening in recognition. His lips curled into a delighted smile, the kind that lit up his whole face. "Aubrey Wilkes?" he exclaimed, excitement evident in his tone. "Y/N, do you know what this means?"  

"I…" you began, but words failed you. It felt too big, too unexpected to process.  

"It means you’re amazing," Spencer continued, his voice steady as he reached across the table to take your free hand. "And now someone else sees it too."  

You looked back at Spencer, who was still holding your hand, his thumb now tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. "I told you people would notice," he said, his voice soft but insistent. "You’re incredible, and you should let the world see it."  

Your eyes softened as you gazed at him, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you, Spencer," you whispered.  

"Always," he replied, his expression filled with a quiet devotion that made your heart flutter.  

The moment lingered between you, the restaurant and its patrons fading into the background as the two of you shared a look that said more than words ever could.

—

April 2007

"Spencer, I’m not going," you sighed, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on your chest as you leaned back in your chair. His persistence, while well-meaning, was starting to wear on you.  

"Y/N," he began, his tone both patient and pleading, "this isn’t just some casual opportunity. This is Aubrey Wilkes. She gave you her card. She wants to see what you can do. Do you even know how rare that is?"  

You folded your arms across your chest, avoiding his gaze. "I know exactly how rare it is, Spencer. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to New York."  

Spencer leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly as if physically holding himself back from pressing harder. "Why not?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with frustration but also genuine concern. "Is it fear? Because I know you, Y/N. You can do this. You’re more than talented enough."  

"It’s not fear," you shot back, though your voice faltered just enough for him to notice. You stared at the floor, your fingers gripping the edge of your chair. "It’s… it’s everything else. I have a life here. I have a job. I have you."  

Spencer’s heart clenched at your words. He reached out, his hand brushing against yours. "I know, and I love our life together," he said earnestly. "But I don’t want you to look back in ten years and wonder ‘what if.’ I don’t want you to resent me for holding you back from something you were meant to do."  

You flinched at his words, your head snapping up to meet his eyes. "You think I’d ever resent you? Spencer, you’re the best thing in my life. You’re the one who’s always supported me, encouraged me to believe in myself when no one else did."  

"And I’m still doing that," he countered gently. "That’s why I’m pushing this. I can’t stand the thought of you letting this slip away because you’re scared to leave me behind."  

"It’s not just that," you admitted, your voice breaking as tears pricked your eyes. "I don’t want to lose us. What if I go, and everything falls apart?"  

Spencer reached for your hands, cradling them between his. His thumbs traced soothing circles over your knuckles as he looked at you with all the tenderness in the world. "You won’t lose me, Y/N," he promised, his voice steady but thick with emotion. "I’ll be here, cheering you on, no matter where you are. I’d rather see you chasing your dreams, even if it’s from a distance, than staying here and giving up on them for me."  

Your tears spilled over, and you shook your head, torn between love for him and the fear of what leaving might mean. "I just don’t know, Spencer," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.  

"I do," he said softly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. "I know how much you’re capable of, and I know you’ll regret it if you don’t at least try. And I love you too much to let that happen."  

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them settling between you like an immovable wall. You shook your head, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill again. “I’m just—I’m not going. Leave it alone,” you said firmly, your voice quieter than you intended but laced with finality.  

Spencer hesitated, his hand still outstretched as if reaching for you might close the growing distance between you. “Y/N,” he murmured softly, his tone a mix of frustration and desperation.  

“Can we be done with this, please?” you interrupted, your voice trembling but resolute. You didn’t want to cry again, didn’t want to feel like you were fighting with the one person who always understood you.  

Spencer stared at you for a long moment, his brow furrowed, his lips parting as if he wanted to argue further. But then he closed his mouth, his shoulders slumping as he dropped his hand. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

The word hung between you, filled with unspoken emotions—disappointment, worry, and love all tangled together. Spencer looked down at the table, fiddling with his napkin as if it held answers he couldn’t find in your eyes.  

You turned your gaze away, your chest tightening as silence settled over the room. It wasn’t the kind of silence that came with comfort—it was heavy, suffocating, filled with everything neither of you was saying.  

And though you had put an end to the conversation, it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like a crack in something you weren’t sure how to fix.  

—

August 2007

"Who was that?" Spencer asked as you walked back inside from the patio, his brow furrowed slightly with curiosity. He had noticed the look on your face as you ended the call—something between apprehension and surprise.  

You glanced down at your phone, the screen still lit with the call log. "Aubrey," you said hesitantly, tucking the device into your pocket.  

Spencer tilted his head, his interest piqued. "Aubrey Wilkes?"  

"Yeah," you admitted, your tone cautious as you avoided his gaze. "She… uh, she got my number. I don’t know how, but she did." You let out a nervous laugh, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.  

Spencer’s expression shifted to one of intrigue and concern. "And?" he prompted, sensing there was more to the story.  

You took a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "She asked me to consider coming. Said there’s a spot opening next year—her number two is supposed to leave for another job in Milan."  

Spencer’s lips parted slightly, his eyes searching your face as he processed the news. "That’s… huge," he said slowly, his voice laced with both excitement and hesitation.  

"I know," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "It’s… it’s everything I dreamed about. She said she’d hold the spot for me if I wanted it."  

Spencer stepped closer, his gaze softening as he tried to read the emotions flickering across your face. "What did you say?"  

"I didn’t say anything," you admitted, looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. "I told her I needed time to think about it."  

He nodded, his hands slipping into his pockets as he took a moment to respond. "And… are you thinking about it?"  

You hesitated, your eyes dropping to the floor. "I don’t know," you said quietly. "I told you I wasn’t going. But now… it’s like she’s dangling everything I’ve ever wanted right in front of me, and I don’t know if I can ignore it anymore."  

Spencer’s heart ached at your words, but he forced a gentle smile as he said, “You shouldn’t ignore it.”  

You sighed heavily, the weight of the decision pressing down on you like a storm cloud. "It’s just too much to think about right now," you murmured, walking over to where he sat. Without hesitation, you nestled into his side, your head resting on his shoulder as his arm wrapped protectively around you. The warmth of his embrace was like a balm, soothing the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind.  

"Will you read to me?" you asked softly, your voice tinged with exhaustion.  

“Of course, my love,” he replied without hesitation, his tone tender. He reached for the book he had been reading earlier, adjusting slightly so you could be more comfortable.  

As his calm, steady voice filled the room, weaving through the story’s narrative, you felt your nerves begin to settle. The cadence of his words acted like a lullaby, each one wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Spencer kept reading, even when he noticed your body growing heavier against his, your breathing slowing to a steady rhythm as you drifted off to sleep.  

He paused mid-sentence, tilting his head slightly to glance down at you. You were wearing a sweater you had designed and crafted yourself, the intricate stitching a testament to your talent and creativity. In your peaceful state, with your lips slightly parted and your lashes resting against your cheeks, you looked serene.  

Spencer’s chest tightened as he watched you, a flood of emotions washing over him. He felt an overwhelming admiration for you—for your strength, your brilliance, your passion. But beneath that admiration was a deep-seated fear.  

He didn’t want you to give up this massive opportunity, the one you had dreamed of for so long, the one that could change your life. And yet, he couldn’t shake the gnawing guilt that maybe he was the reason you were hesitating.  

The thought that he might be holding you back, even unintentionally, was almost unbearable. He wanted to be the one who supported you, who cheered you on, who encouraged you to take risks and chase your dreams. But as he held you in his arms, he wondered if his love for you was making it harder for you to leave.  

Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as he whispered into the quiet room, “I just want you to be happy.”  

He knew that when the time came, he would have to push you, no matter how much it hurt. Because loving you meant wanting the best for you—even if it meant letting you go.  

—

March 2008

You and Spencer were strolling through the mall, casually browsing the stores as you searched for the perfect gift for your grandmother’s upcoming birthday. The two of you laughed together as you passed by store windows, debating what she might like—a scarf, a brooch, maybe a fancy tea set.  

But then your steps slowed, your attention caught by something glinting behind a clear glass case. It was almost subconscious, your feet carrying you toward it before you even realized what had drawn you in.  

"Rings?" Spencer asked, his voice soft and amused as he came to stand beside you. His eyes flicked to the sparkling display before landing on your face, a tender smile curling on his lips.  

"Do you ever think about getting married?" you asked suddenly, your gaze still fixed on the rings, their polished surfaces reflecting the light.  

The question caught Spencer off guard. He blinked, his smile faltering for just a second before it returned, gentler this time. "Of course," he said softly, the vulnerability in his tone unmistakable. "Do… do you?"  

You finally tore your eyes away from the display, turning to face him with a grin. Your heart swelled at the look on his face—so earnest, so full of quiet hope.  

"Yes," you admitted, your smile widening as you decided to tease him just a little. "Preferably to a tall, nerdy doctor. But, you know, beggars can’t be choosers."  

Spencer’s cheeks flushed, his lips pulling into a bashful smile as he looked down at you. "I think you might be in luck," he said, his voice laced with warmth and a hint of playful humor.  

"Oh?" you asked, tilting your head and feigning surprise.  

"Yeah," he murmured, his eyes glimmering with affection. "I hear there’s one who’s absolutely crazy about you."  

Your laughter bubbled up, filling the air between you as you leaned into his side. He wrapped an arm around you instinctively, pulling you closer as you both stood there, the sparkling rings forgotten as you focused entirely on each other.  

In that moment, with his arm around you and the warmth of his love so evident, you couldn’t help but imagine a future where one of those rings might be yours—and that future felt a lot closer than you’d ever thought possible.  

—

May 2008  

“Aubrey,” you sighed into the phone, keeping your voice low as you closed the bedroom door behind you. Spencer had finally fallen asleep after hours of tossing and turning, his fever making rest nearly impossible. The last thing you wanted was to wake him now. “I told you I can’t.”  

Unbeknownst to you, the sound of the door clicking shut had stirred Spencer. His eyes fluttered open, confusion washing over him as he realized you weren’t lying beside him anymore. He sat up slightly, his head still heavy with fatigue, and strained to hear your voice coming from somewhere outside the room.  

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop. At least, that’s what he told himself. But the moment he heard Aubrey’s name fall from your lips, his chest tightened, and his focus sharpened.  

“No… no… it’s not that…” Your voice wavered, and Spencer could picture you chewing your thumb nervously—something you always did when you were stressed. “I can’t leave. My whole life is in Virginia… well, no… he told me to go… yes, I know—”  

Spencer’s breath hitched, his heart clenching at your words.  

“I love him, I love my life with him,” you continued, and Spencer felt his chest ache in equal parts relief and guilt. “Obviously… I’m sure it would work, but—” You sighed deeply, the sound heavy with frustration and longing. “My answer is still no. I’m sorry.”  

Spencer’s mind raced as he processed what he’d just heard. He could feel the weight of your words pressing against his chest, a reminder of the sacrifice you were making. He knew he was the reason you were staying. You were giving up your dream for him, and as much as he loved you for it, he couldn’t let it happen.  

Hearing your footsteps approaching, Spencer quickly laid back down, shutting his eyes tight like a child pretending to sleep past their bedtime. He tried to even out his breathing, though his heart raced beneath the covers.  

You slipped back into the bedroom quietly, the dim light from the hallway casting a soft glow as you moved toward the bed. Sliding under the covers, you nestled into his side, resting your head on his chest. Your lips pressed a tender kiss over his heart, and you whispered, “I love you so much, Spencer Reid.”  

Spencer’s chest swelled at your words, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as he fought back the wave of emotions threatening to overcome him.  

As your breathing steadied and you drifted off to sleep, Spencer lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t shake the echo of your words—“I love him… he told me to go.”  

By the time sleep finally claimed him, his mind was filled with plans. He had to get you to New York. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much it scared him, he had to make sure you followed your dreams—even if it meant losing you in the process.  

—

December 2008 – Present

"Reid, are you paying attention?" Hotch’s firm yet concerned tone cut through the fog in Spencer’s mind, snapping him out of his reverie.  

Spencer’s head jerked up, his eyes meeting Hotch’s piercing gaze. "Yes, sir," he replied quickly, his voice steady though his heart wasn’t.  

"Good. Let’s keep it that way," Hotch grumbled, clearly not in the mood for distractions.  

The team was seated around the conference table in the BAU’s jet, discussing the details of their latest case. They were headed to New York, where several women had been drugged and abducted from exclusive nightclubs in the Upper East Side. The unsub’s profile was slowly taking shape, but for Spencer, focusing on the details was harder than usual.  

Even hearing the name New York was like a dagger twisting in his side. It brought with it a flood of memories he had tried and failed to suppress—memories of you.  

He could picture the night you had finally told Aubrey no, the way your voice trembled with conviction when you said you were staying in Virginia. And yet, here he was, sitting on a jet bound for the very city where you were supposed to be building your dream.  

Spencer clenched his jaw, trying to push the thoughts away. This is my job. Focus on the case. He repeated the mantra in his mind, forcing himself to look at the crime scene photos spread across the table.  

But as the jet began its descent into the city, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting to the window. The glittering skyline of New York City came into view, and his chest tightened. He wondered, not for the first time, what your life might have looked like now. Would you be walking those streets right now, thriving in a world that had always been meant for you?  

"Reid, thoughts?" JJ’s voice broke through his spiral, and Spencer quickly blinked, realizing the team was looking at him expectantly.  

"Uh…" He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. "The unsub likely uses a combination of charm and familiarity to gain the victims’ trust. Based on the timeline, he’s calculated and methodical, which suggests he’s not working impulsively. He might be using the same clubs regularly to scope out his targets."  

JJ nodded, taking notes as Morgan chimed in with his own observations. Hotch seemed satisfied that Spencer was back on track, but Spencer could still feel the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.  

As the jet landed and the team prepared to disembark, Spencer grabbed his bag and fell into step behind the others. He reminded himself that the job came first, that the women out there needed them to be focused and sharp.  

But as they exited the airport and the cold New York air hit his face, Spencer couldn’t help but feel the ghost of what could have been following close behind.  

As the team settled into the precinct, the familiar buzz of activity filled the air—phones ringing, officers shuffling papers, and the hum of conversation about the case. Spencer sat at a desk, his eyes scanning over a map as he worked on the geographical profile. On the surface, he looked focused, but internally, he was at war with himself.  

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get you out of his head. The sharp lines on the map blurred as his thoughts drifted.  

Which building do you live in? The question looped through his mind like a broken record. He knew you had moved to the Upper East Side with Aubrey when you first came to New York. But that had been months ago—almost a year, actually. Maybe you didn’t live with her anymore. Maybe you had your own place now.  

And then, more troubling thoughts crept in. Are you being safe? His chest tightened at the idea of you walking these streets, the same streets where women were being drugged and taken.  

Spencer’s eyes darted back to the photos of the nightclubs spread across the desk. He knew it was unlikely you frequented places like these. You’d never been one for the nightlife, always shying away from loud music and crowded spaces. He remembered how you used to fidget at gatherings, instinctively seeking out quieter corners where you could breathe.  

But the thought of you even being near these places, of someone seeing you, targeting you—it made his stomach churn.  

God, I hope you’re safe, Spencer thought, clenching his jaw as he tried to shake the image of you from his mind.  

“Reid, you okay?” Morgan’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, pulling him back to the present.  

Spencer blinked, his hands tightening around the edges of the map. “Yeah,” he said quickly, his voice a little too sharp. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound calmer. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just trying to piece together the unsub’s movements.”  

Morgan studied him for a moment, clearly unconvinced but deciding to let it slide. “Alright, well, let me know if you need a second pair of eyes.”  

Spencer nodded, returning his gaze to the map. But even as he tried to refocus, his mind kept drifting back to you. He hadn’t seen you in so long, hadn’t heard your voice, hadn’t even been able to convince himself to reach out.  

And yet, here he was, in your city, wondering if you were okay, if you were happy, if you were thinking about him too.  

After spending the day checking out the crime scenes and canvasing the surrounding areas, the team returned to the precinct to deliver their initial profile to the local police. Spencer sat near the back of the room, his hands clasped tightly in front of him as he tried to keep his focus on the case.  

Emily stood at the front, presenting the profile with her usual confidence. "We believe the unsub is targeting wealthy women," she explained, her tone even but firm. "Women who appear successful and independent—CEO’s, CFO’s, designers, singers, dancers, actors, chefs, etcetera. He sees them as trophies, not just victims. He uses their wealth and status to justify robbing them, taking their IDs, and eventually breaking into their homes after he’s done with them. This is about control and power, and his choice of victims reflects that."  

Spencer’s stomach churned as he listened, each word cutting deeper into his already frayed nerves. His mind was no longer on the women they were profiling; it was back on you.  

Every victim they described could have been you. Successful, talented, determined—everything about you fit the profile. You had climbed to the top of your field, a name that carried weight and admiration. You were exactly the kind of woman this unsub sought to dominate, to tear down.  

Spencer swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to the board where photos of the victims were pinned. Each face reminded him of you in some way—the confident smiles, the elegant postures, the undeniable strength that radiated from their pictures.  

He tried to push the thoughts away, to remind himself that you were likely far from this mess, probably tucked away in a luxurious apartment or a designer studio, far removed from the chaos he was immersed in.  

But the fear gnawed at him anyway. What if you weren’t safe? What if you were walking these streets late at night, lost in thought or distracted, completely unaware of the danger lurking nearby?  

Morgan’s voice pulled him back to the moment, but Spencer barely registered what was being said. He felt frozen, paralyzed by the weight of his thoughts and the eerie similarities between you and the women they were trying to protect.  

The briefing ended, and the room began to clear out, officers heading back to their tasks. Spencer stayed seated, staring blankly at the photos on the board. His chest felt tight, his mind racing with all the possibilities he didn’t want to consider.  

"Reid?" JJ’s voice broke through the haze, her expression soft as she approached him. "What’s up with you? Is something wrong?”

He blinked, forcing himself to shake his head. "No," he lied, his voice flat. "Everything is fine."  

But he wasn’t fine. Not even close. Every instinct in him screamed to find you, to check on you, to make sure you were okay. Because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the thought that this case wasn’t just about catching an unsub—it was about protecting you from a danger he couldn’t control.  

—

You were getting ready with Aubrey and the rest of your group, the energy in the room buzzing with excitement. It was Blake’s 27th birthday, and they had chosen to celebrate with a night out at the clubs.  

The leopard-print dress you wore hugged your frame perfectly, its bold design a gift from Aubrey herself. As you zipped up your deep burgundy leather boots, the rich color catching the light, you couldn’t help but glance at your reflection. The outfit was striking—you felt sexy and confident.  

“Shots!” Kurt’s voice boomed from the living room, drawing laughter and cheers from the group. You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head as you finished adjusting your boots.  

“You ready to go, superstar?” Aubrey teased, leaning in the doorway with a knowing smile. She looked impeccable, as always, her outfit radiating confidence and style.  

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with a grin, standing and smoothing out your dress.  

“Good,” Aubrey said, linking her arm with yours. “Because tonight, we’re leaving all the stress and work drama behind. It’s Blake’s night, and you, my dear, are going to have fun.”  

You laughed, letting her guide you toward the rest of the group. As the music played loudly in the background and someone handed you a shot glass, you tried to push away the unease creeping in. This wasn’t your scene, but for Blake—and with your friends by your side—you’d make the best of it.  

What’s the harm of one night out on the town?

Aubrey, with her effortless charm and impressive connections, had managed to get your group into one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. As you approached the entrance, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement as you passed the long line of people waiting to get in.  

The bouncer gave your group a once-over before glancing at his clipboard, where your names were already on the list. He nodded to the hostess, who gestured for you to follow her inside. You exchanged amused glances with Aubrey, her confident smirk making it clear she was in her element.  

The energy of the club hit you immediately—a pulsing rhythm of music, vibrant lights reflecting off chandeliers and mirrored disco balls, and the faint scent of expensive perfume mingling with the coolness of the air-conditioned space.  

You were quickly led to a private VIP lounge area, tucked away yet with a perfect view of the dance floor. The sleek leather seating, soft glow of ambient lighting, and low table with a bottle of premium alcohol chilling on ice made it clear this was luxury at its finest.  

As you settled in with the group, Aubrey leaned over with a grin. "Not bad, huh?"  

"Not bad at all," you admitted, finally starting to feel the buzz of excitement that the rest of the group had radiated all night.  

Kurt popped the cork on the bottle with a celebratory cheer, pouring out drinks as Blake laughed and raised their glass. "To the best birthday ever!" Blake called out, their joy infectious as everyone clinked their glasses together.  

You took a sip, letting the fizzy warmth spread through you, and glanced out at the dance floor, watching the kaleidoscope of lights play over the crowd. For the first time in a long while, you let yourself relax, leaning into the moment. Tonight wasn’t about anything else—it was about celebrating Blake, being with friends, and maybe, just maybe, finding some joy in the chaos.  

It wasn’t until later in the evening, as the excitement of the night wore on, that you noticed something was wrong. Analise hadn’t returned from the bathroom in a very long time. At first, you didn’t think much of it—maybe she’d gotten caught up chatting with someone or had taken a phone call. But as the minutes stretched into an hour, unease began to settle in.  

You mentioned it to Aubrey, and soon, the rest of your group was involved, searching the crowded club for her. You checked every possible place she could be—the bathroom, the dance floor, the bar. You even tried calling her phone, but it went straight to voicemail.  

A sinking feeling twisted in your gut as you decided to check with door security. Maybe she’d decided to leave early and hadn’t told anyone. But when you explained the situation, the response you got made your heart drop.  

“She left about 40 minutes ago,” the bouncer informed you, his tone matter-of-fact. “She was with a man.”  

Your blood ran cold. Analise was a married lesbian woman with children. There was no way she would leave with a man.  

“That’s impossible,” you said, your voice shaking. “She wouldn’t… she would never do that.”  

The bouncer frowned, his expression darkening as he realized the weight of your words. Aubrey, ever composed, stepped forward, her voice sharp and commanding. “We need to check the security footage. Now.”  

The staff moved quickly, pulling up the tapes as your group crowded around, watching with bated breath. And there it was—clear as day. Analise stumbling out of the bathroom, visibly dazed, as a man wrapped an arm around her, guiding her toward the exit. You could see her trying to resist, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated, but she was no match for him.  

Your stomach churned as the man led her out of the club. It was clear she’d been drugged and coerced.  

“We’re calling the police,” one of the security staff said, already reaching for his radio.  

The next thirty minutes passed in a blur. The authorities arrived swiftly, questioning the staff and reviewing the footage. Your group, shaken and worried sick, was told to wait outside. When the police finally addressed you, it was to inform you that they needed to take statements from everyone who had been with Analise that night.  

Before you knew it, you were sitting in the back of a police car, the flashing lights reflecting off the club’s exterior as it faded into the distance. Aubrey sat beside you, her normally composed demeanor fractured by worry. The rest of your group was being transported in other cars, but you all shared the same fear: What if it’s too late?  

As the car sped toward the station, you stared out the window, your mind racing with a million thoughts. Analise’s face, her laugh, her stories about her wife and kids—it all played in your mind like a reel you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was your fault, that somehow you should have noticed sooner, should have done something.  

Aubrey reached over, squeezing your hand tightly. “We’ll find her,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered.  

You nodded, but the knot in your stomach didn’t loosen. All you could do now was hope the authorities could act quickly enough. Analise’s life could depend on it.  

Your group was led into a quiet room, far from the noise and chaos of the precinct. The space felt sterile and impersonal, and the tension in the air was palpable as you waited, all of you exchanging worried glances. One by one, your friends were called out by law enforcement to give their accounts of the night’s events.  

You tried to steady your breathing, but your heart sank when one of the officers mentioned that the Behavioral Analysis Unit was on the case. The BAU, you thought, your stomach twisting into knots. That could only mean one thing—Spencer.  

Your mind raced. Please, let him be out in the field. Let him be anywhere but here, you silently begged. The idea of seeing him again, especially under these circumstances, felt overwhelming.  

But then a petite, pretty blonde woman entered the room, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to your spiraling nerves. She scanned the list in her hands before looking up and saying your name with a polite smile.  

You hesitated but stood up, smoothing your dress as you followed her down the hallway. She led you to a small interrogation room, where the walls seemed to close in just a little too tightly.  

“Have a seat,” the woman said gently, gesturing to the chair across from her. She handed you a steaming cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the room.  

“Thank you,” you murmured softly, clutching the cup between your hands as if it were a lifeline.  

The woman gave you a reassuring smile, her blue eyes warm and steady. “My name is Jennifer Jareau,” she said, her voice calm and professional. “I’m an agent with the BAU, and I just have a few questions for you. You’re not in any trouble; we’re just trying to get a clear picture of what happened tonight.”  

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.”  

JJ leaned forward slightly, her posture open and non-threatening. “I know tonight was difficult, but anything you can tell us might help us find your friend and bring her home safely.”  

You took a deep breath, letting her words settle over you. As much as you were afraid of what this moment represented, you knew you had to focus on Analise. You began recounting the evening, walking her through everything you could remember—how Analise had gone to the bathroom, how long she’d been gone, and how your group had discovered she had left the club with a man.  

JJ listened intently, taking notes but never breaking eye contact. Her steady presence made it easier to keep talking, even as your voice faltered at times.  

When you finished, she nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve been really helpful. Thank you for being so detailed—it makes a big difference.”  

You offered a small, shaky smile. “I just want her to be okay.”  

“We’re going to do everything we can,” JJ said firmly, her voice filled with quiet determination.  

You nodded again, but as she stood to leave, a new wave of anxiety washed over you. What if Spencer really is here? What if he walks through that door next? You weren’t sure you were ready for that moment. Not now. Not like this.  

—

When the call came in about a new abduction, Spencer held his breath, his stomach tightening as a familiar sense of dread crept in. For a brief, harrowing moment, he waited to hear your name. But it wasn’t.  

“Analise Bordeaux,” Penelope said over the phone, her tone efficient but tinged with urgency. “She’s a top-rated journalist for the New York Times. Married, with two kids. Her wife also reported her missing earlier tonight after she didn’t return home at a previously agreed time.”  

Spencer let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, but the relief was fleeting. Another brilliant, accomplished woman was in danger, and the unsub’s pattern was becoming even clearer.  

“Morgan, Reid,” Hotch’s voice cut through the tense moment, bringing everyone back to focus. “I want the two of you to head to the club. Talk to the staff, review the footage, and see if anyone remembers anything unusual.”  

“Got it,” Morgan replied, already grabbing his jacket.  

Spencer nodded, silently falling into step with his partner. The ride to the club was quiet, the weight of the case settling heavily between them. Spencer’s mind wandered, as it often did in moments like this, and despite his best efforts, his thoughts drifted to you. Were you okay? Were you being safe in this massive, chaotic city? The idea of something happening to you gnawed at him in a way he couldn’t shake.  

When they arrived at the club, the music still pulsed faintly in the background as staff cleaned up after the night’s events. The bouncer and several employees were waiting for them, and Derek immediately took the lead, flashing his badge and asking for access to the security footage.  

Spencer scanned the room as they worked, his sharp eyes noting every detail. The club was upscale, the kind of place that catered to high-profile clients, which fit the unsub’s victimology perfectly. He and Derek pored over the footage, watching as Analise stumbled out of the bathroom, her movements sluggish and disoriented. The man who had escorted her out didn’t seem remarkable at first glance, but Spencer’s mind was already analyzing every subtle detail—the way he scanned the room, the calculated calmness in his movements.  

“This guy fits in with the crowd,” Derek muttered, narrowing his eyes at the screen.  

Spencer nodded. “He knows exactly how to stay under the radar. He’s blending in, using the chaos of the club to his advantage.”  

After questioning staff and gathering everything they could from the scene, the two men left the club and headed back to the precinct. The weight of what they’d seen hung heavily in the air between them, but Spencer was unusually quiet.  

“You good, pretty boy?” Derek finally asked, glancing over at him.  

“Yeah,” Spencer lied, his voice quieter than usual. “Just… thinking.”  

Derek didn’t push, but Spencer could feel his partner’s eyes on him. 

When Derek and Spencer arrived back at the precinct, they headed straight to the makeshift conference area where the rest of the team was gathered. The atmosphere was tense but focused, with everyone comparing notes and piecing together the puzzle of Analise’s abduction.  

JJ was finishing up her report on the interviews she had conducted with Analise’s friends. She held a notepad in her hand, skimming through her findings as she updated the team.  

“We have a list of people Analise spent the evening with,” JJ said, holding up the notepad. “Her coworkers and a few close friends all confirmed she wasn’t acting like herself before she went to the bathroom. Said she was dazed, disoriented in the footage—classic signs of being drugged. One of them even mentioned they tried calling her, but her phone’s off now.”  

As JJ spoke, Spencer’s gaze landed on the notepad in her hand. Something about it nagged at him—a sense of urgency he couldn’t quite place.  

“Can I see that?” he asked, pointing to the list of names.  

JJ didn’t hesitate, handing the notepad over with a slight frown of curiosity. “Sure,” she said. “What are you thinking?”  

Spencer didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned the list quickly, his brain processing each name at lightning speed. And then he saw it.  

Your name.  

It hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the room seemed to tilt. His breath caught in his throat, and his grip on the notepad tightened as if he needed to steady himself.  

You’re here.  

“What is it, Reid?” JJ asked, her voice breaking through the sudden rush of emotions.  

Spencer forced himself to look up, his expression carefully neutral. “Um,” he muttered, his voice tight. “I just… wanted to see if anyone stood out.”  

He handed the notepad back to JJ, his hand trembling slightly. He hoped she didn’t notice, but Morgan, standing nearby, narrowed his eyes at him.  

Spencer’s mind raced. He hadn’t seen you in so long, hadn’t spoken to you since the night he let you go. And now, here you were, tangled up in a case involving dangerous predators and a missing woman. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the panic rising in his chest.  

“You recognize anyone?” JJ asked, her tone casual as she flipped back through the list.  

“No,” Spencer lied once more, his voice steadier this time.  

But inside, he felt like he was falling apart. Because no matter how much he tried to focus on the case, on the unsub, on finding Analise, one thought overpowered everything else: You were here.  

“What do you think, Hotch?” Rossi started, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Should we let them go?” He gestured vaguely, referring to your group still waiting in the designated room.  

“No,” Spencer said quickly, speaking up out of turn. His voice was firmer than he’d intended, and everyone turned to look at him with raised brows.  

“They’re safer here,” Spencer continued, his tone more measured now. “The unsub might have seen them. If they were with Analise all night, they could’ve been noticed, even targeted.”  

“Reid’s right,” Hotch said, nodding as he turned back to Rossi. “We’ll keep them here until we have more information. JJ, did any of them mention recognizing the unsub from the footage? Or if Analise recently changed anything in her routine that might have drawn attention?”  

JJ gently took her notepad back from Spencer, giving him another curious glance before flipping through her notes. “Uh… yes,” she said, stopping on a specific page. “One of them—Y/N Y/L—mentioned that Analise had just gotten a promotion at work. They went out to celebrate at a new restaurant last Thursday.”  

Spencer stiffened at the mention of your name, doing his best to keep his expression neutral.  

“Alright,” Hotch said decisively. “Let’s bring Y/N back into the interrogation room. She might have seen this man at the restaurant and didn’t realize it.”  

“I’ll go get her,” JJ offered, already rising from her seat and heading toward the door.  

“I’ll come too,” Spencer blurted out before he could stop himself.  

Everyone turned to look at him again, surprise flashing across their faces.  

“May—maybe a second set of ears,” Spencer stammered, quickly trying to justify his outburst. “Um, a new perspective might help.”  

Hotch studied him for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read Spencer’s motives. Then, with a curt nod, he said, “Fine. Go with her.”  

JJ gave Spencer a questioning look but said nothing, motioning for him to follow her. As they walked down the hallway toward the room where you and your friends were waiting, Spencer felt his chest tighten with every step.  

He hadn’t seen you in so long, hadn’t prepared himself for this moment. And now, he was seconds away from coming face-to-face with the person he’d never stopped thinking about.  

—

You were just starting to lose your patience, shifting in your seat and glancing at the clock for the hundredth time, when the door opened again. The same woman from before, Jennifer, stepped inside with her calm and professional demeanor.  

“Y/N?” she said with a polite smile. “Can we see you again?”  

Your friends exchanged questioning glances, murmuring words of encouragement as you stood. “Good luck,” one of them whispered as you followed JJ out of the room and down the hallway.  

You tried to steady yourself, reminding yourself this was all routine. Just more questions. Nothing out of the ordinary. But as you stepped into the cold interrogation room again, the air felt different—charged, heavy.  

And then you saw him.  

Sitting in the chair across from the table, Spencer.  

Your breath caught in your throat, and the room that had felt icy before now felt like it was a thousand degrees hotter. You froze for a moment, your mind racing to make sense of the sight in front of you. He looked the same, yet different. His hair was slightly longer, his face a little more tired, but those eyes—the same deep, thoughtful eyes you’d once adored—were unmistakable.  

Spencer’s head snapped up as you entered, and for a second, he looked just as startled as you felt. His mouth parted slightly, but no words came out.  

“Y/N,” JJ said gently, breaking the heavy silence. She gestured toward the chair across from Spencer. “Have a seat.”  

You nodded stiffly, forcing your legs to move as you crossed the room and sat down. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves, shock, or something else entirely.  

Spencer cleared his throat, his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You blinked, your throat dry as you nodded again. “Hello, agent,” you replied, equally quiet.  

JJ glanced between the two of you, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion, but she quickly masked it. “Y/N, we just have a few follow-up questions,” she said, sitting down beside Spencer and pulling out her notepad.  

But it didn’t matter what she said. The only thing you could focus on was Spencer, sitting right there in front of you, as if the years between you had suddenly disappeared.  

The questions started simply enough—where had you and your group gone to dinner? How many people were there? Did anyone stand out or seem to take special interest in you?  

“There was one person,” you said after a moment of thought, tilting your head slightly as you tried to recall the details. “He was a busboy, I believe. But he kept coming by our table to check on us.”  

Spencer, who had been taking notes alongside JJ, immediately perked up at that. “He wasn’t your server?” he asked, his voice calm but focused.  

You shook your head, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “No, our server was a woman. She was very attentive, but this guy—he kept showing up. At first, we thought he was just really good at his job, but it started to feel… I don’t know, a little strange.”  

JJ leaned forward slightly, her pen poised over her notepad. “Strange how? Did he say anything to you, or was it more about his behavior?”  

“It was mostly his behavior,” you replied, frowning as you tried to piece together the memory. “He’d clear away plates that didn’t really need to be cleared yet, or refill water glasses that were barely half-empty. And every time he came by, he’d linger for just a second too long. It was subtle, but… noticeable.”  

Spencer exchanged a quick glance with JJ before asking, “Can you describe him? Anything about his appearance that stood out?”  

You nodded, your eyes narrowing slightly as you focused on the image in your mind. “He was average height, maybe a little shorter than you,” you glanced at Spencer. “Dark hair, clean-shaven. He had this kind of… intense way of looking at people, like he was trying to figure them out.”  

Spencer scribbled furiously in his notebook, his pen moving so fast it almost blurred. “Do you remember if he wore anything unusual? Jewelry, a watch, anything like that?”  

You paused, biting your lip as you thought. “I… I think he had a tattoo on his wrist,” you said finally. “It was hard to see because of the uniform, but when he reached over to clear a plate, I noticed it. It looked like… a triangle, or something geometric.”  

“That’s good,” JJ said with a nod, giving you an encouraging smile. “That’s really helpful, Y/N.”  

But your gaze shifted to Spencer, who was still scribbling notes with an intensity you hadn’t seen from him before. When he finally looked up, his eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, the weight of everything unsaid passed between you.  

“Anything else you remember, no matter how small?” he asked softly, his voice steady but carrying an edge of something deeper—something that felt almost personal.  

You shook your head slightly. “No, I think that’s it. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now…” You trailed off, a shiver running down your spine at the realization of how close your group may have been to danger.  

Spencer nodded, his expression unreadable as he set his pen down. “Thank you,” he said quietly.  

JJ stood, glancing at her notes before giving you another reassuring smile. “We’ll follow up with the restaurant and see if anyone knows him. You’ve been really helpful, Y/N.”  

You nodded, rising from your chair, but your eyes lingered on Spencer for just a moment longer before you turned to leave the room. And as you walked back to your friends, you couldn’t help but feel like this encounter had stirred up more than just memories of the night—it had brought something long-buried between you and Spencer back to the surface.  

Before you could reach the room where your friends were waiting, you felt a gentle hand on your arm. The unexpected touch made you stop, turning instinctively.  

There he was—Spencer, standing just behind you, his face filled with an urgency that took your breath away. He looked like he was holding back a storm, his words spilling out before he could second-guess himself.  

“Can I see you before I leave?” he asked, his voice low but rushed, as if afraid you might say no.  

For a moment, you just stared at him, your mind scrambling to process the request. And before you even realized it, you nodded. “Okay,” you said softly, the word leaving your lips almost automatically.  

Relief flashed across Spencer’s face, but he didn’t linger. He simply gave you a small, grateful nod before turning back toward the team. You stood there for a second, trying to collect yourself, before heading back into the room with your friends.  

As soon as you sat down next to Aubrey, she leaned in, her sharp eyes scanning your face. “Was that Spencer?” she asked in a hushed whisper, her voice filled with curiosity and concern.  

You nodded again, unable to bring yourself to speak.  

“Are you okay?” Aubrey pressed, her hand resting lightly on your arm.  

This time, you shook your head. The motion was small, but it felt monumental, like admitting the weight of everything that had just happened. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, the sharp pressure a weak attempt to distract yourself from the knot of emotions tightening in your chest.  

Aubrey frowned, her expression softening as she studied you. “Do you want to talk about it?”  

You shook your head again, swallowing hard as you tried to push the overwhelming feelings down. “Not yet,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Aubrey nodded, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “Alright. But I’m here when you’re ready.”  

You gave her a faint smile, grateful for her understanding. But as you sat there, surrounded by your friends and the low hum of their conversations, your mind was elsewhere—focused on Spencer, and the inevitable conversation that now loomed on the horizon.  

—

Luckily, your information turned out to be exactly what the team needed. With Penelope’s tech skills and the restaurant staff’s confirmation, they were able to identify the unsub and locate Analise.  

The relief was almost overwhelming when the news came in: Analise was found unharmed, aside from the lingering effects of the drugs and the red marks on her wrists where she’d been bound. The man hadn’t had the chance to carry out his full plan—robbing her or doing worse—thanks to the swift intervention of the police and FBI.  

By the time everything was resolved, the authorities had cleared you and your friends to leave that same night. The long hours of tension melted away as you gathered your things, and your group began heading toward the precinct exit.  

You stuck close to Aubrey, practically glued to her side as you wrapped an arm around her waist. Her presence grounded you, the warmth and familiarity of her reassuring after everything you’d been through.  

“Finally,” Aubrey murmured as the two of you reached the doors, her tone light but laced with exhaustion.  

You nodded, tightening your hold on her as you pushed through the glass doors into the cool night air. But as you stepped outside, your eyes darted around instinctively, searching for a glimpse of Spencer.  

And there he was, standing just a short distance away, speaking with Morgan and Hotch. His back was to you, but even from where you stood, you could feel the weight of the moment.  

You immediately turned your head, your arm tightening around Aubrey as you kept moving. You didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to risk Spencer catching sight of you—or worse, calling out to you.  

Aubrey glanced down at you as the two of you walked quickly toward the car. “You okay?” she asked softly, her voice steady despite her own obvious fatigue.  

“Yeah,” you whispered, though your grip on her waist betrayed your nerves.  

As you slid into the car, your heart still raced. The thought of seeing Spencer again—even after everything—left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. And yet, there was a tiny, nagging part of you that wondered what would’ve happened if you’d let yourself stop.  

But for now, you were content to let an officer drive you home, the city lights blurring outside the window as you leaned against the seat, trying to process the night’s events—and the man who still had the power to shake you to your core.  

The incessant ringing of your phone jolted you awake, the sound cutting through the fog of your restless sleep. You groaned, squinting against the morning light as you reached for your phone on the nightstand.  

Your heart skipped a beat when you glanced at the screen. No name was displayed, just a number. But it was a number you could never forget, no matter how hard you’d tried.  

You had deleted Spencer’s contact months ago, telling yourself it was for the best, a necessary step in moving on. But his number was burned into your memory, a string of digits that you could recite as easily as your own name.  

For a moment, you just stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the answer button. The ringtone seemed louder, more insistent, as if demanding a decision.  

Your chest tightened, and a million thoughts ran through your mind. Why is he calling? What does he want? Can I even handle hearing his voice right now?  

But before you could overthink it any further, your thumb moved almost of its own accord, pressing the button and bringing the phone to your ear.  

“Hello?” you said softly, your voice still heavy with sleep.  

There was a pause on the other end, just long enough to make your heart race, and then you heard it—a voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime.  

“Y/N,” Spencer said, his tone cautious, almost tentative. “I… I’m sorry to call so early. I wasn’t sure if you’d pick up.”  

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “What’s going on, Spencer?” you asked, your tone carefully neutral.  

He hesitated, and you could practically hear him piecing his words together. “I just… I couldn’t leave New York without talking to you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not after last night. Not after seeing you again.”  

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, but you didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken emotions.  

“I know this isn’t fair,” Spencer continued, his words tumbling out now, “but… can we talk? Just the two of us? Please?”  

You closed your eyes, leaning back against the headboard as you exhaled slowly. You didn’t know what to say—didn’t know if you were ready to reopen wounds you’d worked so hard to heal. But the sound of his voice, the raw emotion in it, made it impossible to say no.  

“Okay,” you said quietly. “When?”  

“Now?” he asked, his voice tinged with hope and hesitation. “I can come to you, or we can meet somewhere—whatever you’re comfortable with.”  

You glanced at the clock on your bedside table, your mind still racing. “There’s a café a couple of blocks from me,” you said finally, giving him the address. “I’ll meet you there in an hour.”  

“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone. “I’ll see you soon.”  

As the call ended, you sat there for a moment, staring at the phone in your hand. Part of you wanted to crawl back into bed and pretend none of this was happening. But another part—the part that had never really let Spencer go—knew this was a conversation that was long overdue.  

—

November 2004

“Excuse me, miss?” a voice spoke from behind you, polite but a little unsure.  

You turned around, confused, to find a lanky man with slicked-back hair and glasses standing there, looking at you expectantly. He wore an awkward smile, his hands fidgeting slightly as he shifted on his feet.  

“Yes?” you asked, tilting your head, trying to place him.  

“If it’s no bother, we would really appreciate the check. We were just called into work,” he explained sheepishly, gesturing to a man sitting at the table behind him, who was watching the interaction with an amused grin.  

For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure of how to respond. “Um,” you started, your tone hesitant, “I’m sorry, but I don’t work here.”  

The man sitting across from him burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Nice going, Reid.”  

The one who had spoken—Reid, apparently—turned bright red, stumbling over his words as he tried to apologize. “I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to assume, I just—your outfit—it looks just like the uniforms the waitstaff are wearing!”  

You frowned, glancing down at your clothes—a crisp white blouse tucked into sleek black slacks. Then it clicked, and a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. “Oh, wow,” you said, grinning at him. “That’s… actually kind of funny. I designed the uniforms, so I guess I subconsciously dressed accordingly.”  

Reid blinked, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “You designed them?” he asked, his embarrassment giving way to genuine curiosity.  

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, glancing around the restaurant. “I work for the owner—well, freelance. They hired me to design uniforms that were professional but stylish.”  

“That’s… really impressive,” Reid said, his tone sincere as he adjusted his glasses. “They’re—um, they’re very nice. Clearly convincing,” he added, his cheeks still pink.  

The man at his table laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re lucky she’s nice, kid. That could’ve gone way worse.”  

You smiled, brushing off the comment. “No harm done,” you said, waving a hand. Then, looking back at Reid, you added, “Just maybe double-check next time before you assume.”  

“Noted,” he said, offering a sheepish smile. “And again, I’m really sorry.”  

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, shaking your head at the interaction. Little did you know, it was the beginning of something much bigger than a misunderstanding over a uniform.  

—

December 2008 – Present  

You sat at the small table in the café, nervously fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth with one hand while biting your thumb with the other. The café was quiet, the gentle hum of conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine creating a soothing background. Still, your nerves were anything but calm.  

You hadn’t seen Spencer yet, but you felt his presence looming, the anticipation making your chest feel tight. Your mind raced with a million thoughts—what he would say, what you should say, how this meeting would go after all the time that had passed.  

“Excuse me, miss,” a familiar voice interrupted, laced with a soft, teasing tone. “You don’t happen to work here, do you?”  

Your head snapped up, and your lips parted in surprise, only for the tension in your chest to loosen when you saw him. Spencer stood there, looking both nervous and amused, his hands tucked awkwardly into his coat pockets. His hair was slightly tousled from the cold, and his glasses caught the soft glow of the café lights.  

You couldn’t help it—amusement took over as you remembered the very first time he had said those words to you. “Seriously?” you said, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “You’re going to lead with that?”  

Spencer shrugged, his lips curving into a sheepish grin. “I figured it worked the first time,” he said, his voice soft as his eyes flickered to yours.  

Your heart stuttered at the look he gave you, and for a moment, it felt like you were back in 2005, standing in that restaurant, completely oblivious to what the future held.  

You shook your head, gesturing to the seat across from you. “Sit down, Reid,” you said, your tone light, though your voice still carried the weight of everything unsaid.  

Spencer moved carefully, as if afraid to disrupt the fragile moment between you. He slid into the chair, his hands resting on the table, fidgeting slightly with the edge of his sleeve.  

“You remembered,” you said after a beat, unable to stop yourself.  

“Of course I did,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “I remember everything about you.”  

The weight of his words settled between you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.  

“Well,” you said, breaking the silence, “I guess we have a lot to talk about.”  

Spencer nodded, his expression serious but filled with something you couldn’t quite place—hope, maybe? “Yeah,” he said. “We do.”  

And just like that, the conversation you’d both been avoiding for years finally began.  

Spencer folded his hands on the table, his long fingers twitching slightly as though unsure of where to begin. He glanced down at the tablecloth before looking back up at you, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out right away.  

You tilted your head, studying him. “You’ve never been one to struggle for words,” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension that hung thick in the air.  

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.” His voice was soft, almost tentative.  

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy—weighted with years of unanswered questions, unresolved feelings, and all the things neither of you had said when you had the chance.  

Spencer finally spoke, his voice low and earnest. “I shouldn’t have forced you to go.”  

Your heart clenched at his words, the directness of them catching you off guard. You opened your mouth to respond, but he pressed on, his words tumbling out in a rush, as though he’d been holding them back for too long.  

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said, his gaze locked on yours. “I thought I was giving you the chance to live the life you deserved, to follow your dreams without me holding you back. But all I did was hurt you. And…” He hesitated, his voice dropping even lower. “I hurt myself too.”  

You blinked, stunned by the raw honesty in his tone. You hadn’t expected him to dive in so quickly, to say the things you’d spent so long wondering if he even felt.  

“Spencer,” you began, your voice wavering slightly, “you didn’t just hurt me. You made a decision for both of us without even asking how I felt. You thought you were protecting me, but you didn’t give me a choice.”  

He flinched slightly at your words, but he didn’t look away. “I know,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I know I handled it all wrong. I’ve replayed that night a thousand times in my head, and every time, I wish I’d done it differently. I wish I’d just… trusted you.”  

You swallowed hard, the vulnerability in his words stirring something deep within you. “You think I didn’t want to go? That I didn’t think about what it could’ve meant for my career? I stayed because I loved you, Spencer. You were my dream. Not New York. Not Aubrey. You.”  

Spencer’s hands tightened on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. “And I threw it away,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “You didn’t throw it away. You made a choice. We both did. And we have to live with that.”  

He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. For a moment, you thought that might be the end of it—that he would drop it and let you both walk away again.  

But then he looked up, and his eyes were filled with something fierce, something determined. “I don’t want to live with it,” he said firmly. “Not anymore. Not if there’s even the smallest chance I can fix this—fix us.”  

Your breath caught, your heart pounding in your chest as his words hung between you. You wanted to say something, to respond, but you weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to speak.  

So instead, you just stared at him, waiting for him to keep going. And in that moment, Spencer Reid, the man who rarely hesitated to explain every detail, every fact, every statistic, did something unexpected.  

He waited too.  

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air between you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope, for any clue as to how you might respond. You could see the vulnerability etched into every line of his face, the desperation for you to believe him, to give him a chance.

“Spencer,” you began softly, your voice trembling just enough to betray the storm of emotions swirling within you. “Fix us? There is no us anymore. You made that abundantly clear when you kicked me out of my home.”

Your words were sharp, cutting through the fragile hope that had been lingering in the air. Spencer flinched as if you’d physically struck him, his face falling with the weight of your statement. He opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his lips pressing into a thin line as he struggled to find the right words.

“I didn’t—” he started, but then stopped himself, shaking his head. “I didn’t kick you out, Y/N. I thought—”  

“You thought you knew what was best for me,” you interrupted, your tone more firm now as the hurt you’d buried for so long began to surface. “You didn’t even ask me how I felt. You made a decision for both of us and expected me to just accept it. And when I didn’t? When I tried to fight for us? You pushed me away like I didn’t matter.”

“You mattered,” Spencer said quickly, his voice cracking. “You still matter. I—I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting you.”  

“Protecting me?” you repeated, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You weren’t protecting me, Spencer. You were protecting yourself. You were afraid I’d resent you, so instead, you pushed me out of your life completely. And guess what? It hurt just as much—maybe even more.”  

His shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, the gesture so familiar it made your chest ache. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was afraid. I was terrified. Not just of you resenting me, but of… of failing you. Of not being enough. I convinced myself that letting you go was the selfless thing to do, but all I did was hurt you. And myself.”

You looked at him, his confession hanging heavily in the air between you. Part of you wanted to lash out, to make him feel a fraction of the pain you’d carried for so long. But another part of you—a part you didn’t want to admit existed—still ached for him, still felt the pull of the man you’d once loved so deeply.  

“You can’t just come back now and expect to fix everything,” you said, your voice softer but no less firm. “It’s not that simple.”  

“I know,” he said quickly, his eyes pleading. “I know it’s not. But I had to try. I couldn’t leave New York without telling you how I feel, without letting you know that I’m sorry—for everything.”  

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady yourself. “And what happens after this, Spencer? What are you expecting? That I’ll just forget everything and we’ll go back to how things were?”  

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t expect that. I don’t expect anything from you, Y/N. I just…” He paused, his voice breaking as he added, “I just needed you to know that I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”  

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The sincerity in his voice, the pain in his eyes—it was all too much.  

But so was the weight of everything that had happened, the scars that hadn’t fully healed.  

“I never stopped loving you either,” you said finally, your voice trembling again. The admission felt heavy, like a weight you had been carrying for far too long, now released.  

“Really?” Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to believe it.  

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Well, it’s only been half a year, Spencer. I thought I was going to marry you. That doesn’t just go away.”  

“No,” he agreed, shaking his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “No, it doesn’t.”  

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the quiet of the café wrapping around you like a fragile cocoon. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the raw, unspoken emotions lingering between you.  

Then, Spencer shifted in his seat, his hands fumbling around in his bag as if he were searching for something. You watched him curiously, your heart pounding in your chest as he finally pulled out a small box.  

“What is that?” you choked out, your voice barely audible.  

Spencer held the box in his hand, staring at it for a moment before looking back up at you. “I bought this the day we went to the mall,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “When you asked me if I ever thought about marriage.” He paused, his fingers brushing over the edges of the box as if grounding himself. “When you went into the lingerie store, I went back and bought the ring you were staring at.”  

Your breath hitched, your mind racing. “How did you know?” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips.  

“I’m a profiler,” he said with a small, almost shy smile. “I know—knew you so well. It wasn’t hard to see which one caught your eye.”  

“It’s—the ring is in there right now?” you asked, your voice trembling.  

Spencer nodded, his expression cautious but hopeful. “Do you want to see it?” he asked tentatively, his fingers tightening slightly around the box.  

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, slowly, you nodded, unable to find the words to say anything else.  

Spencer opened the box, turning it toward you, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.  

The ring was simple yet elegant—exactly the kind of style you’d always admired. A delicate band of platinum, with a perfectly cut diamond set in the center, surrounded by smaller stones that sparkled as if they held their own light.  

“Yes,” you whispered, barely audible, your eyes never leaving the ring.  

Spencer’s head snapped up, his brows knitting together in confusion. “What?” he rushed out, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and hope.  

“Yes,” you said again, louder this time, your gaze shifting from the ring to meet his wide, questioning eyes.  

“Yes… what?” Spencer asked, his voice trembling, as if he couldn’t allow himself to believe what he thought he was hearing.  

You took a shaky breath, your emotions swelling and threatening to overflow. “I’ll marry you,” you said firmly, the words filling the space between you like a beacon.  

Spencer froze, his lips parting slightly as he processed what you’d just said. For a moment, he looked like he might cry, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as his hand tightened around the small box.  

“You will?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, full of awe and disbelief.  

“Yes,” you said again, nodding for emphasis. “I love you, Spencer. I never stopped. And I don’t want to waste any more time pretending like I don’t.”  

Spencer’s hands trembled as he reached for yours, his grip warm and steady despite his obvious emotion. “I—I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted, a nervous, breathless laugh escaping him.  

“You don’t have to say anything,” you replied, your voice soft but certain. “Just… ask me.”  

Spencer blinked, his lips curving into the smallest, most genuine smile you’d seen in years. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he slid out of his chair and knelt on one knee, still holding the box open.  

“Y/N,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”  

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks as you whispered, “Yes.”  

Spencer slid the ring onto your finger, his hands shaking as he did so, and when he stood, you launched yourself into his arms. He caught you easily, holding you tightly as you both laughed and cried, the weight of years of pain and longing finally lifting.  

In that small café, with the world around you fading into the background, the two of you found your way back to each other—against all odds, against all fears. And for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.  

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[minswriting]

KINKTOBER 7 - praise kink and corruption (spencer reid x reader)

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader

Spencer adored everything about you. Your smile, your laugh. Your ability to make any situation into a positive one. You were lovely and amazing and truthfully just all things good in the world. Which is why the two of you had become friends so easily. Spencer trusted you wholeheartedly. And you trusted him wholeheartedly. And so, when Spencer had come over and started talking to you while you guys were having a movie night, the topic of sex came into fruition and the admission that Spencer had never done it before came out in the air.

“You’ve never had sex before?” You asked, tilting your head to your handsome friend. You already knew. You could already tell. And part of you wanted to be the one that ruined him first. To see him whining, jerking his hips, moaning your name. It was a thought that never failed to send pulses down to your core. The amount of times you had fucked yourself to that thought was definitely more than you could keep track of.

Spencer shook his head no, biting his lip. “I-I know the basic science of it. The endorphins, the dopamine, the erogenous spots that can enhance pleasure. But I’ve never actually…done it,” He said nervously, licking his lips and running a hand through his hair.

And so, the words left your mouth before you could process what you were thinking. “I can show you,” as you took Spencer’s hand to your clothed breast.

Spencer gasped at the contact, looking at you with his big beautiful brown eyes. He looked nervous and scared but not in a bad way. He was intrigued. But very clearly didn’t know what he was getting himself into which made you so wet. You were the one that gets to corrupt Dr. Spencer Reid.

And so, you did.

Spencer was sitting on the couch in your living room, moaning loudly as you bounced on his cock. He was unashamed with how loud he was, reeling in the pleasure that your pussy gave him. And truth be told, you were making your own noises too. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” you moaned.

Spencer whimpered, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so he could bury his face in your shoulder. “F-feels so good,” he said against your skin.

“I’m so glad, my beautiful boy,” you replied. “Your cock feels so good inside of me.”

Spencer couldn’t help the jerk of his hips at the nickname you had given him, making his cock go deeper inside of you. The both of you were whining and moaning with each other. The boy genius pulled away from your shoulder, dipping his head to capture your left boob in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nub.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure as you continued to move your hips.

Spencer let out his moans and whines, eyes closed blissfully as he sucked on your boob. You looked at him, seeing his gorgeous brown hair being messier than usual and his cheeks flushed in color you had never really seen in him before. He looked absolutely beautiful. And it was all for you to see. Only for you.

It didn’t take long for you to feel your orgasm approaching. And by the way Spencer’s breathing got heavier, you could tell he was close as well. “Getting close for me, baby?” You asked breathlessly, never stopping your movements.

Spencer let go of your tit, nodding his head and throwing it back in pleasure. “So close,” he exclaimed.

“Go ahead, beautiful boy, cum for me. You’re doing so good.”

Spencer let out a choked moan as you clenched down on his cock, making him see stars as he felt his orgasm overtake him. “I-“ He cut himself off with a loud moan as he started cumming inside of you. You didn’t stop moving on his cock, chasing your own orgasm as Spencer filled you up. And soon after, you followed him, clenching your thighs and cumming hard.

Spencer adored everything about you. Your smile, your laugh, and now your pussy too. Because after that, he was most definitely addicted to you.

[rynbutt]

pierced. | spencer reid.

Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr

a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3

You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.

Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.

You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).

You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.

"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."

There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.

You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.

You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"

"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.

Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.

You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.

Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.

"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.

"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"

"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.

Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"

"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"

"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.

"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"

"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"

"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.

"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.

"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.

"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.

"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.

It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.

You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.

"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"

Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."

"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.

"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.

"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.

"Spencer," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.

"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."

"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."

You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.

"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"

"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.

"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.

"So... you do?" You asked.

"...No, I don't." He muttered.

"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.

"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.

"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.

"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.

"Bye, Dr. Reid!"

Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.

"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.

"Shut up!"

reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[livin4woso]

She's just a softie (aitana bonmati x buff! reader)

Summary- reader has created quite a known track record to be scary on and off the pitch with even some teammates being scared of your size. However, aitana sees you for what you really are a big softie, yet her teamates don't believe it until they see it.

Your whole life to anyone who didn't know you would suggest you lived in the gym. Your toned body speaks for itself, showing the hard work you put in each day. Then, later in life came along the tattoos that were littered across your body with a new one appearing on your skin ever so often.

All this combined left you to be scary looking person and you're naturally shy and introverted behaviour was instead mixed up with the ideas of you being cocky and arrogant towards people which was far from the truth yet people were intimidated by your presence and never tried to cross paths with it.

However there was one person who saw beyond the looks and that was aitana she was never scared of your 5,11 ft muscly tattooed build she saw you for the real you a shy nerdy girl who was a big softie. It was quite a funny site for the girls at barca when they found out you were together yet they still didn't believe you were good enough for her.

"Oh come on, aita, you can do so much better someone who isn't self obsessed and is so arrogant that she won't even talk to us," frido said when they were walking down the tunnel to training. "Look you have no idea what y/n is like and the answer is no i won't because too me she is nothing what you think she is and i will prove it too you" aitana replied storming off from her friend. She knew her friends wouldn't approve, but they had never given you the chance to even speak, and because you're too shy to speak first, you just never did.

You and aitana had been dating for around 6 months when she decided to prove everyone you were not as tough as people thought you were. It was a long day at training and secretly aitana had planned for team bonding at your shared apartment too show you were a big softie for her.

"Im tired aita please can we cuddle on the couch" you asked walked into the living room "mhm sure bebe just go shower and change then we can" she replied kissing your cheek while standing on her tip toes to reach. As you went to shower she had text for the girls too come round for an hour later and had given frido and ingrid a key to let themselves in as she knew she wouldn't be able to open the door with you lay on her.

After both of you were ready. You practically threw the smaller girl on the couch and dropped yourself on top of her. "Can you play with my hair please" you asked giving her puppy eyes that she couldn't resist. "Of course amor just relax and go to sleep I'll wake you later" she said as her fingers carded gently through your hair. It took about 10 minutes until your breaths evened out and were tickling aitanas neck.

As she sat on her phone scrolling through social media, she heard the key unlock the door when her 3 friends had opened the door. It was ingrid mapi and frido who had arrived first and walked towards the living room. However, when walking through what was once just aitanas apartment, they noticed the subtle changes of the additions of lego sets and old comics scattered across the room, which obviously didn't come from aitana. Then they reached the couch, and thats where they saw it. Your larger figure wrapped around aitana clinging onto her like she would disappear if you let go.

Frido was stood mouth agape and ingrid was pulling a similar face then mapi was so in shock she even went and took a photo of how yous were laying on the couch together. "See i told you she was a big softie, she's just really shy and a bit nerdy if you haven't caught on to the new decorations in the rooms" aitana said with a shit eating grin on her face knowing she'd proved all her friends wrong. "So you're telling me that theee y/n y/l/n is infact a massive nerd and isn't cocky but rather scared to talk to us" frido said almost in a state of shock which aitana just nodded in response.

As more piled in from the team, each with a similar reaction. The volume in the room getting gradually louder, which caused you to stir from your sleep "aita whys it so noisy in here? Have you got the tv on full volume?" You asked groggily, lifting your head from the crook of her neck to find your whole team in your living room."erm how long have yous been here?" You asked your cheeks flushing a dark shade of red in embarrassment. "Long enough to know you're not so tough as you look and aitana makes you a massive teddy bear," mapi responded, causing the room to break into laughter.

Safe to say after that day, no one questioned yours and aitanas relationship, and since then, the team realised your true self, the one aitana had seen in the first place.

[hgfictionwriter]

Discovery: Part Five - First Time

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: With the truth revealed, Jessie and you now have a chance to fully build an authentic, honest relationship. And maybe, the physical intimacy that's plagued your relationship - and Jessie's past - can finally be healed.

Warnings: G!P content. First time; oral (J receiving; R receiving); body image issues; lingering internal conflicts and themes of rejection; language.

A/N: This is SO long. I just got carried away - there was so much I felt would be going through Jessie's mind that I couldn't just skip over during their first time together, combined with all of the previous baggage. It felt much more natural to pace it this way.

"So, if I ask you to spend the night, do you think you would?"

Jessie couldn't believe the contrast between this morning and now. She'd come over to your apartment with absolute certainty that this would be the end; she'd maybe get to hold you once more and then it would be the inevitable goodbye.

Instead, here you were, cuddled into her on the couch, fingers of one hand intertwined with hers and her arm wrapped around your shoulder. Rather than a painful and heavy goodbye, you'd sat together for hours; conversation renewed, deeper, sincerer, and you were asking her to stay.

Jessie smiled at you.

"I'd love to," she told you before giving a quiet, bashful laugh. "If you asked, that is."

You chuckled and nudged her with your shoulder. "Well I'm asking."

"Then I'd love to stay," Jessie replied with a resolute nod.

"Now that I know why you were so hesitant to spend the night before," you told her with a smirk, leaving Jessie in awe that you could be so relaxed about this and that things felt so natural between you.

While Jessie's mind had been wrought with questions and worries for months, now the only question that remained was, 'What took her so long to tell you?'

You fidgeted slightly and scratched at your temple, eyes cast downward momentarily before you looked up at her.

"Just as before, even more-so now, actually, you're welcome to sleep in the bed. I-I'd like you to." A beat passed and you rushed on. "But only if you want to."

Jessie's heart felt like it was lodged in her throat, but in a good way. She would've never pictured this.

"Y-yeah," she managed to reply, voice almost wavering. "I'd like that."

You clearly were anticipating a decline, because your reaction was delayed and was one of momentary surprise before smiling broadly at her.

"Oh! Fantastic!" You said before shrinking into yourself slightly, seemingly embarrassed at your enthusiasm. Jessie found it adorable and kissed you. Your cheeks were burning pink when she pulled back. "You can, um, wear some of my clothes to bed. I'm sure I have something that'll fit."

"Sure, that sounds good," Jessie said as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Soon you led her into your room and dug through your drawers for some sleepwear for her. Jessie had been in your room a handful of times, but really only in passing. Given how physical aspects of your relationship had been so taboo prior, the bedroom had become unspoken, forbidden territory. She took this opportunity to look around and really take it in; all of your belongings, the way you had things arranged, all the things big and small that made it yours.

"These should work."

Jessie was pulled from her observations by your voice. She turned to you and gave you a belated smile as she took the items.

"Thank you."

Silence fell over you two, but it felt very different than ones previous. This time, Jessie wasn't scared.

"I know we've talked about a lot today, tonight, but I, um, just want to say again that I'm really grateful you told me everything," you said softly as you looked at her.

"Me too," Jessie returned with a gentle smile. "Again, I'm really sorry it took me so long. I can't tell you how amazing it is to have this openness with you and to be given another chance. I really do love you, and I'm so grateful that I can tell you that and to not have to hide."

You looked at her with the warmest eyes and reached out to gently take the clothes you'd just handed her and set them down on the bed. You took a step towards her, closing the space between you two and wrapped your arms around the back of her neck. Your waist pressed against her’s and Jessie inadvertently swallowed though she held your gaze.

"You shouldn't have had to hide in the first place," you said as you cupped her cheek. "Thank you for trusting me with this." Jessie nodded.

"I'm trusting you with this. My heart. My past. All sorts of things," she finished lightly, hoping for some levity but failing to come up with something witty. She settled for a silly smile that contrasted the weight of her words. You weren't fooled and continued to look at her in earnest. Jessie dropped her smile and allowed herself to sit in this moment with you instead.

Soon your lips were on hers in a slow, deep kiss. Instead of tensing up and coaching herself through it, she finally gave herself permission to relax into your kiss.

Her eyes fluttered open belatedly when you subtly pulled back from the kiss. She looked to you with mild confusion only to see a soft smile crossing your lips. You caressed the back of her neck briefly before kissing her again even deeper. Jessie barely managed to hold back a moan. She tightened her arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

That small act of confirmation seemed to spark something in you. Suddenly, your fingers were running through her hair and you kissed her harder.

It didn't take much for Jessie to feel the telltale signs of her cock starting to stiffen. You were pressed flush up against her - her movements stilled and she shifted her hips back slightly to create space.

"You don't have to," you said slightly breathless as you pulled back just enough to look at her. A moment passed and you shook your head subtly. "I don't want you to."

Jessie inadvertently swallowed. She searched your eyes, a stubborn hesitancy and doubt still lingering in the back of her mind. You caressed her cheek with your thumb and it quieted her thoughts. She pulled you close to her once more and rest her forehead against yours.

"I told you I find you very attractive," she said in a low voice with a smirk. "So much so that it's been a problem."

She saw you bite the inside of your lip.

"I don't see a problem here," you affirmed before giving a smirk of your own. "I like it."

You kissed her again and though Jessie wanted nothing more than to reciprocate, she had to ask once more.

"Are you sure? I mean - you weren't anticipating...this," Jessie finished with a near mumble as she glanced down between you purposefully before looking at you again. "And you said you preferred a strap."

You blushed, dropping eye contact, but caressed the side of her neck still.

"Well, at that time I didn't exactly know that you had anything more than a strap," you said sheepishly before forcing yourself to look up at her. This time, you spoke assuredly.

"And you're right that I wasn't anticipating this. But, I love you. And this," you gave a look mirroring Jessie's a moment ago, "is part of you, which means, I'm all for it." You gave a slight shrug. "And, you know, it's pretty sexy. Knowing...feeling, or seeing, what effect I might have on you." You finished with a shy chuckle. "I'm not upset about it. Let's put it that way."

Some other girls had made fun of her for visibly being aroused, but there was nothing malicious about your reaction. In fact, your reaction was far from it. She smiled gratefully and nodded.

"Okay. Well, I'm glad. And, um, I'm sorry in advance if there are moments - like this - where I get a little too...excited. I don't mean to ruin a moment or anything," Jessie explained as she glanced back down at the slight bulge in her pants - it wasn't anything too overt right now, but if you two carried on it certainly would be.

"You don't need to apologize," you said, mildly chiding her. "I just told you I like it." You slowed, cupping her face once more and speaking softly. "I like it," you repeated.

Any lingering concerns were snuffed out as you began kissing her once more. Slow and patient at first, before deepening. She wrapped her arms around you fully and met your kisses with equal, growing passion. Your hands began to wander down her back and after a moment of hesitation, Jessie allowed her hands to explore as well.

What was an initial arousal was now becoming full-on as your hands played with the hem of her shirt, your fingers grazing ever so lightly against her skin, and when she heard you faintly moan into your kiss, there was zero chance of her hiding the way her cock now strained fully against her boxers and pants.

When you didn't pull away, and instead pulled yourself closer to her, her fingers dug into the small of your back through your shirt, pulling another muffled moan from you.

Jessie opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she gently broke off the kiss, only now realizing she was short of breath.

"Sorry," she breathed. You frowned at her in confusion.

"What for?"

She frowned in return as she tried to conjure up some coherent thoughts.

"I'm, um, getting carried away," she eventually managed to say.

"I'm not remotely bothered," you assured her. "I'm getting carried away as well, then, too," you added with a faint grin. You looked away briefly before resting your hands on the front of her chest and pushing upwards, your hands feeling their way up her neck and into her hair as you spoke. She nearly shivered.

"I know we just said today we'd take it slow," you looked away again, "but, um, we also don't have to."

Jessie swallowed, studying you intently. "I don't want to pressure you at all. I mean, I dropped a lot on you today. I'm very happy to go at whatever pace you set. I have no expectations."

You nodded, seemingly lost in your own thoughts.

"Mhmm. And, well, we've also been together for months. And...I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you. And, maybe, based on what I'm feeling right now...you might want me, too," you finished with a tentative, but hopeful look on your face.

Jessie blushed with a lopsided grin. "I think that's safe to say."

You both looked at each other, gauging one another and waiting for the other to make the first move. It was several seconds before you grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her in for another kiss, which she readily met.

Hands wandered even more ravenously this time and you were very subtly grinding yourself against her bulge and Jessie swallowed a moan that threatened to escape. She exhaled heavily and found herself pulling you tight against her, her hand now sneaking under your shirt and you moaned in approval.

Surprise flooded Jessie system as suddenly you were pushing her towards the bed, not breaking the kiss until you pushed her down on the edge. When she looked up at you, your eyes were dark with lust and her cock throbbed at the sight.

"Wh-" Jessie's question was cut off as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of her, not dropping her gaze the entire time. You placed your hands on her thighs and moved your hands upward until your fingers snuck under her shirt to graze her abdomen.

"Is this okay?" You asked. Jessie could only nod, unable to find the words. You toyed with the hem of her shirt again. "Do you prefer clothes on or off for this?"

"I, um," Jessie stammered. "On, for now, I guess." She shook her head. “Wait, I should do stuff for you.” She went to switch places with you but you denied her.

“There’s time for that, too. I want to do this for you,” you said as your thumbs idly caressed her skin. Jessie let your words settle in and a slow smile formed across her lips. She nodded.

You smiled and began to massage her hips, your hands moving inwards until you started to unbutton her pants. She was absolutely aching with anticipation by now. Jessie's eyes were trained on you and she breathed through her lips as her mind tried to keep up with what was evolving.

"You're sure?" You asked one more time, fingers ready to unzip her pants. Jessie let out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah. I am. Um, if you are. You know you don't have to do anything, right?" You didn't break eye contact.

"I know. I want to do this. I want you," you stated and Jessie felt a flutter go through her entire body at the declaration. She frowned as you grew bashful. "I, um, haven't done this in a while though. So...bear with me. I apologize in advance," you finished with a sheepish laugh. Jessie frowned deeper.

"Don't apologize. At all. I-," she wracked her mind for the right words to say. "I'm positive it'll be great. You'll be great. I, um, just want to be with you. That's what's most important to me." You looked up at her from your spot on the floor between her legs and gave her a grateful smile. Your earlier comment caused Jessie's mind to start envisioning you in front of other people in a similar position. She didn't like it.

"And...we don't really need to talk about, you know, other times or people...at least right now," she added gently.

"Oh. Right," you said as you flushed pink. You sat back on your heels and cleared your throat before raising yourself up again and kneading her thighs. "Okay, well, what I mean is, feel free to tell me what you like...and tell me if you don't like what I'm doing."

Jessie felt a tightening in her throat and she forced a series of nods. "Okay, I will."

It probably shouldn't have been a big deal, but she was left in awe to some degree. Other girls didn't care what she liked or didn't like. It was about them - satisfying their curiosity or having a story to tell after. But that wasn't you at all.

She cleared her throat and went on. Now was not the time to get emotional.

"But please don't worry. You can see already that you're doing everything right," she said with a slight chuckle as she tucked your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheekbone with her thumb. "And same goes for you, please tell me if I'm doing anything you don't like. And please know you don't have to do anything that you aren't comfortable with."

"I know, baby," you said as your raised yourself up to kiss her on the lips.

Jessie was kissing you back, eyes closed, when your hand returned to her zipper and began to pull it down and over her aching erection. Her efforts to kiss you back stalled as your hands pushed the fabric of her pants aside and you began to caress her through her boxer briefs.

You began to kiss her neck and Jessie did her best to swallow any impending moans as you continued to feel her through the fabric. Her eyes remained closed as your fingers traced over the head of her cock before gently feeling and exploring what you could of her length.

Next, she felt you trace along a seam of the boxer briefs and her whole body stiffened as your warm hand reached in through the slit of the fabric and your delicate fingers first made contact with her cock.

"Is this okay?" You whispered into her neck as your hand stilled. She nodded. That fleeting touch alone felt incredible and she could hardly believe it was happening.

"Yeah," was all she could manage.

Assured, you gently wrapped your fingers around her length and pulled it through the slit. Now, unencumbered, her full length sprang upward in your grasp and, intentional or not, you sat back and Jessie opened her eyes to see you looking at her cock.

She registered this image of you looking down at her length that stood proudly up within your hand, a large bead of precum pooling at the tip. She wasn't 100% sure how to read your expression, it wasn't negative for sure, curiosity maybe? Either way, a rush of apprehension went through her and she pushed herself back a bit and began to stammer.

"We, um, we don't-"

You seemed to belatedly clue into Jessie's mounting anxiety and you sat up again, one hand coming to cup her cheek as you kissed her mid-sentence, effectively shushing her.

"It's okay," you whispered, kissing her sweetly once more. You urged her to look at you and she did, shoulders visibly rising and falling as her heart raced. “Do you want to stop?” You asked gently, free of judgement.

She studied you, seeing nothing but concern and care in your eyes. She began to relax and she shook her head. “No.”

You kissed her again, letting it linger this time and only pulling away once Jessie's breathing had evened. "You're beautiful," you said. You leaned in so your lips nearly brushed against her ear. "Please don't worry. I love you. And please tell me at any point if you’re uncomfortable and want to stop. That’s perfectly okay.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she told you. She swallowed her residual worries and leaned into your ear. “I want you, too.”

Jessie's jaw fell slack as the hand around her length, which had remained still the past few moments, began to slowly, lightly caress her, your thumb now patiently circling her tip.

Her shoulders rolled back as she felt your tongue flick her earlobe and your breath was hot and teasing against her ear.

"I can't wait to taste you."

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't for you to say that. She belatedly realized that her fingers were digging into her thighs. She relaxed them along with the rest of her body and you began to kiss your way down until you were resting on the back of your heels once more.

She watched as you looked up at her. You released her momentarily, eyes locked on her still as you licked your hand before wrapping your fingers around her girth again. Jessie didn't drop your gaze, but her shoulders fell at the sensation.

"You can tell me to stop at any point," you reminded her as you began to stroke her up and down. Jessie silenced another moan deep in her throat and swallowed audibly instead as she nodded.

Jessie's mouth fell open further as you dropped her gaze and bent your head towards her waiting arousal. She moved her hands to the edge of the mattress and gripped it tightly as she felt your hot tongue give a slow, teasing flick across the head of her cock. Her breath hitched in her lungs as your tongue languidly circled around the tip.

Her head fell back and her eyes focused on the ceiling as you continued to slowly explore her. Your tongue teased her head, your tongue grazed down her length and back up, your hand gripped her gently, then firmly, you stroked her and circled her.

When your lips wrapped themselves around her tip and you gave a soft, slow lick before sucking and releasing her, she white-knuckled the mattress and set her jaw so harshly it nearly hurt. When your mouth fully sank down on her length, her cock now surrounded by the warmth of your mouth, she couldn't hold back a faint gasp.

Encouraged, you continued, soon bobbing your head up and down on her length and Jessie's breathing became quick and shallow over the incredible sensations that radiated from between her legs and throughout her body.

She curled her fingers inward more, her nails audibly digging into the mattress as you took her further into your mouth, her tip now nudging the back of your throat. Her thighs flexed intermittently as she resisted the urge to move her hips in time with you - she didn't want to be pushy at all.

Her eyes snapped downward as suddenly your free hand found one of hers. She interlaced her fingers with yours and you looked up at her - an absolute sight for Jessie, seeing your mouth wrapped around her swollen cock, your other hand at her base. Again, she was caught off guard as you took her hand and guided it to the back of your head.

The look on her face must've relayed the hesitation or doubt she felt, because you gave a subtle expression of affirmation and pushed her fingers through your hair.

Jessie's breathing was uneven as you refocused on the task at hand, closing your eyes and sucking and licking her once more. Her eyes closed and her head fell back once more as the overwhelming sensations sparked all over again.

She tentatively played with your hair, her hand barely resting on the back of your head as you moved up and down her length. This carried on for a short while until your hand came back up to hers and pushed her hand firmly down on your head, her length going deeper into your throat than ever.

Jessie groaned and clutched your hair instinctually before her eyes flew open in brief panic at allowing herself such a reaction. The feeling ebbed as you continued, undeterred, your thumb actually caressing the back of her hand. She relaxed, sinking into the bed a bit and eyes falling shut once more as she now guided your head up and down.

The sensations that had been building, not just now, but a culmination really of the past several months with you, were about to reach their peak. Jessie's breathing was rapid and she bit the inside of her mouth as a familiar tightening formed between her legs. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times as she tried to center herself.

"I-I'm, I'm gonna cum soon," she told you.

You continued to suck her off and Jessie had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to not groan or curse in pleasure.

"Y/N, I'm not going to last," she tried to warn you, panting as she spoke. "I'm gonna cum."

She expected you to pull back from her, but you remained steadfast, keeping her warm in your mouth until Jessie gripped your hair tightly and tensed up underneath your ministrations. She snuffed out another moan as she began to spill herself into your mouth and down your throat. Her breath hitched as she spurt several times inside your waiting mouth.

Jessie breathed heavily as the twitching of her cock slowed and so did you. It took a few moments for her to come through the haze of her climax and when she did she looked at you in concern. You, however, simply sat back and covered your mouth briefly before swallowing. Jessie just stared at you, stunned.

You wiped your mouth and sat there on your knees before looking up at her. Jessie was still catching her breath as you both looked at each other.

"You taste good," you eventually said, causing Jessie to flush red immediately.

"You-you didn't have to do that," Jessie responded. "Um, swallow, that is." She frowned and flushed further. "Any of it, really."

You frowned in return before giving her a light shrug. "I know. I wanted to." You looked away briefly. "So, um, was it okay?"

Jessie gave you a bewildered look.

"You're joking. You couldn't tell?" She asked, unable to help but laugh a bit. She just shot a huge load down your throat, relatively quickly too - of course she liked it. Instead, you blushed.

"I guess. You were very quiet though," you said somewhat tentatively. You went on quickly. "Maybe that's just how you are - and that's totally fine. I guess I just- I don't know."

Jessie wanted to curse, and moan, and groan with pleasure as you pleasured her, but again, she'd been made fun of before. She'd been the subject of teasing and mocking in hallways or a classroom and it caused her to hold back. She studied you wordlessly for a couple of seconds before nodding.

"I really loved it. You were," she shook her head as she tried to find the words, "beyond incredible." This seemed to relax you and you rose up onto your knees and she wrapped you in a hug as you kissed her.

"Shit, sorry," she said, another blush creeping up her face as she realized her deflating cock was directly on your shirt, staining it with your spit and whatever little remained of her cum.

"Oh, don't worry," you said. You chuckled coyly, gaze flitting away for a second before returning. "We were going to get changed anyway, right?"

Oh right. She'd forgotten all about that already.

Yet again, for the nth time today, you surprised her by locking eyes with her and slowly lifting your top off in front of her. Her jaw dropped slightly and her eyebrows lifted as she took in this stunning visual of you.

"Is this okay?" You asked, your shirt now discarded next to you and your hand behind your back, poised to unhook your bra.

Jessie nodded with a goofy grin. "Yeah, completely."

You smirked and gave her a small nod. "What about you?"

Jessie didn't falter under your watchful stare. She could feel her confidence continuing to build as the barriers she'd firmly placed between you two were rapidly destroyed to discover that there was love and acceptance on the other side.

She lifted her top over her head and tossed it by yours. She reached for your arms and gently guided you up onto the bed with her, your hand still on the back of your bra. She reached behind you, adoring the smile you gave her as she did, and undid your bra for you.

Not thinking twice, Jessie dipped her head to begin trailing kisses down your chest. She cupped one of your breasts and pulled the nipple of your other in between her lips to tease it with her tongue. She grinned into you as your hands wandered and dug through her hair.

She continued to attentively discover your breasts and soon you started shimmying out of your pants and were tugging at hers. Her cock now fully alert and ready to go once more, making her even more grateful that you'd started with a blowjob; it took the edge off for her.

Jessie chuckled softly as she lifted her hips so you could remove her clothes. Yes, she was still nervous, but more than anything she felt an undercurrent of safety and affection and it was such a change. One she more than welcomed.

"Holy shit, you're gorgeous," you said as you took in her naked form. Jessie snorted and gave you a frown.

"You're gorgeous. My God, look at you," she said. She glanced down pointedly at her stiff member. "In case you needed proof that you are so fucking sexy."

Your eyes darkened once more and you pulled Jessie into a heated kiss. The kisses between you two earlier were slow and passionate, but these were hungry and needy.

Soon, you tugged gently on her arm, coaxing her up the bed and she allowed herself to be pulled down on top of you, but made sure to position herself not so precariously against you. She took this as her opportunity to start kissing down your body towards your core.

Your grasp tightened on her, urging her to not move further down.

"Stay with me up here," you said.

"Let me take care of you," Jessie said as she began kissing her way downward once more. "You got to taste me," she looked up your torso at you as she laid slow, lingering kisses down your stomach, "I should get to taste you."

You bit your lip and released her, a smirk on your face as she continued to kiss down your body. She shifted down the bed so her head was nestled between your legs. She felt a buzz, lightheaded even, as your scent filled her senses. Her cock was pressed flat against her torso as she lay on the mattress and she had to readily ignore the hints of pleasure from the friction any slight movement of hers created.

She saw the way your fingers dug into the sheets in anticipation and at a glance she could see the way your arousal pooled at your entrance. Another boost of confidence went through Jessie at seeing physical proof that the act you just performed for her wasn't a turn off, and evidently, even turned you on.

Your knees were raised, feet on the bed and she began to kiss her way down your legs, slowly, teasingly - down one side and then the next. She felt affirmed by how your hips subtly bucked up towards her mouth as she got closer and your fingers dug further into the sheets in frustration every time she pulled back.

She showed an ounce of mercy as she traced her tongue along the junction between your legs and core; staying purposefully away from your inner lips and keeping her tongue light and fleeting. She glanced up your body with a grin, pleased with how your chest visibly rose and fell already under her drawn out attention.

When she saw a bead of cum drip past your entrance and down towards the sheets, she finally delved in. She dipped her tongue down and slowly dragged it upward, capturing your dripping juices and finishing with a soft lick at your entrance. Your body tensed up and a small gasp escaped you and before you had even relaxed she placed her tongue flat against your entrance, before tracing diligently upward through your folds.

You squirmed and writhed as she took her time circling around your clit, giving it a playful flick now and then and finally latching her lips around it and sucking as she lapped at you.

"Oh fuck," you panted as you rolled your hips up into her mouth. She loved your reactions and she grinned into you, sufficiently pleased with herself.

Soon your moans grew louder and you clutched the sheets tightly in your hands. Again, Jessie smiled as she felt your legs tighten and flex around her head.

"Oh God, Jess," you breathed as your hips bucked into her face. "I'm so close." Your hands now clawed blindly at the bed.

Jessie stayed steady, ignoring how her cock absolutely throbbed with need. Every movement and sound you made, along with the way you tasted on her tongue, was driving her mad. She hated to think what state she'd be in if you hadn't given her some reprieve earlier.

Your moans reached a fever pitch and your hips began to jerk against her until you froze mid-grind, your back arching off of the bed and juices flooded Jessie's mouth. She stayed with you, wordlessly coaching you through your orgasm until you hips fell back to the bed and gave a few lingering, stuttering movements. Finally, a heavy, satisfied moan left your lips as your body relaxed and Jessie pulled back.

"Oh my God," you breathed and she smirked as you brought your hands up to your face, eventually draping one arm across your eyes and stretched one leg out as you began to recover.

Jessie watched you coming down, clearly content with her performance. She was filled with satisfaction and pride, but it also sparked a need in her to make you feel that way again. She wanted you to reach that high once more, to feel as amazing as you could, and she wanted to be the one to do it.

Old habits died hard.

This is what she did. As the years went on, one way to defend herself was to make certain there was nothing to make fun of. To be good - damn good. To know exactly what to do and how. But she learned this also had drawbacks of its own. It didn’t change how those girls felt about her. She just went from the butt of a joke to a late night call and little more.

So in time, she more or less stopped altogether. Going into this, she was worried about how rusty she was, but those concerns were quelled by the orgasm she just gave you. And now, she wanted more and to give you more.

She kissed the inside of your thigh. Soft and feathery at first before kissing her way inward again.

She gave you a tentative lick, cleaning up the juices that remained on your lips and your body twitched, an immediate whimper escaping your mouth.

Yes, she definitely wanted more.

She took her time, easing you back towards ecstasy as she gently licked and sucked at you until you were rocking up into her mouth yet again.

This time, as your hands began to grip the sheets once more she reciprocated your earlier move and grasped one of your hands and placed it on the back of her head to give you free rein. She smiled as your fingers immediately dug into her crown and gripped her hair tightly.

You didn't change her pace, and instead simply gripped her tightly as if to anchor yourself as she brought you to another high.

At one point, she pushed your legs back to give her greater access. The shift in position elicited a wanton moan from you and you palmed helplessly at your face with your free hand as she sent mounting waves of pleasure through you.

By the time your moans heightened again, Jessie starting to identify the signs of your nearing release, she had to consciously stop from grinding herself against the mattress for some hint of release.

You gripped her hair so tightly as you came that she winced, but she ducked her head to ensure you didn't see. Not that she felt you could notice even if you tried with how your cries filled the room and you writhed against the bed. Besides, she considered it a compliment.

Your body shuddered as she slowed her licks in time with the way your breathing began to calm.

"Oh-oh my God," you panted as you lay there dazed, eyes closed, the movement of your breasts catching Jessie's eyes as you worked to catch your breath. "I need a moment."

Jessie bit back a chuckle, very pleased with herself and simply laid a soft kiss on your thigh before wiping her face and moving up to lay next to you.

"Holy shit," you said when you finally managed to open your eyes and peek over at her.

"So...was it okay?" Jessie asked. She very likely knew the answer, but, you'd asked earlier and she wanted to reciprocate. And if there was something else you wanted, she wanted to know that too.

You shot her a withering stare.

"Come on," you said. Her expression must've betrayed her, because you next comment was, "Oh yeah. I see your little smirk. You know damn well how much I enjoyed that." You gave a light huff of a laugh. "And if not, I'm sure the cum on the sheets or whatever was surely dripping down your chin should've been a telltale sign."

Jessie blushed at your language and candor, but she liked it.

"Well, you asked me the same earlier and I thought it was pretty obvious how much I liked it," she countered.

You chuckled, closing your eyes once more for a couple of seconds before responding. "Well, I guess I didn't know how to read your reactions throughout. I'll learn though. My reactions? My neighbours could tell you how good you were. Which will be totally embarrassing if I run into them anytime soon, but, worth it."

Jessie tried to tamp down her smile to avoid appearing smug, but felt her face growing warmer despite whatever satisfaction she felt.

"I see you're ready to go again," you said with a lilt in your voice and a purposeful glance down at Jessie's erection.

"Oh." Jessie's face burned hotter. She shook her head mildly. "That's fine. It'll go away eventually. Or whatever."

Jessie's curiosity piqued as you studied her face for a couple of moments, before suddenly she found herself on her back with you straddling her waist.

"I can help, you know," you said lightly with a gleam in your eye. You pushed your hips back, making brief, teasing contact with her length to prove your point.

"Oh," Jessie voiced as a rush of anxiety went through her while she inadvertently dug her fingers into your hips. You took it as affirmation as rocked against her once more. If the fleeting contact with her cock wasn't enough, having your hot, wet heat rub against her abs was sending her into a daze.

"I, um," she stammered as she tried to think through the pleasure and distraction of you rocking against her body, "I didn't bring any condoms with me," she said as she stared at your waist, mesmerized by how your hips were moving. She forced herself to look you in the eye. "I had no idea this was happening tonight."

You stilled entirely and a puzzled expression slowly crossed your features.

"Condoms?" You asked. Soon you nodded as though reasoning with yourself. "For like, safety. Staying clean - all that, right?" You rolled your eyes at yourself. "Obviously. That makes total sense."

"Well...yeah," Jessie shrugged. As she started to elaborate, she found her gaze flitting away, newfound nervousness rising through her chest. "But, probably the bigger thing is, you know, birth control and all that."

"What?" You asked, clearly surprised. Jessie felt herself growing meek, but she resisted as best she could.

"Yeah," she responded, trying to sound nonchalant. "That aspect is...anatomically accurate as well."

She could practically see your mind reeling. She subconsciously began kneading your hips in some attempt to calm you.

"So, um. Yeah," she said, unable to find the right words.

She watched you carefully, vigilantly looking for any hint of what you were thinking or how you might react. The seconds passed and her heart pounded louder and louder in her ears. She looked at you with a concerned frown.

"Say something, please."

A/N: It was FAR too long to fit into one chapter. I'm working on the next part - if you've read my stuff, you know where I'm leaning with this condom situation lol - let me know your thoughts; I can still go a couple of different directions.

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[peachdues]

THE GREAT WAR — PART II (NSFW teaser)

GIYUU TOMIOKA • SECRET PREGNANCY AU

I knew tonight’s episode would send me nosediving back into my TGW obsession. So enjoy a look at our favorite dumb love birds going to town.

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • Giyuu is obsessed with the concept of the female orgasm • oral sex (f!receiving) • some cum eating (more to come)

READ PART I HERE

Giyuu sat and watched her for a moment longer, spread out across the polished wood, her kimono disheveled and her legs still trembling from the intensity of their love-making.

He clicked his tongue. He hadn’t had enough; not nearly so.

“Oomph!” Y/N squealed as Giyuu slid his arm under her and hauled her up and over his shoulder, her opened kimono barely clinging to her frame. Her hands scrambled to clutch at his back to steady herself as the engawa disappeared from below her.

“Giyuu –”

“If you think I’ve had enough of you now, then you’ve sorely underestimated me,” Giyuu cut her off, firmly. “You owe me more.”

“Owe you –” the Miko sputtered

“Yes,” Giyuu replied simply. “You owe me more of your pleasure. I’ve not yet had my fill of it.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded, nudging the door to his — their — bedroom open with his foot. “Or perhaps I’m simply a man who was forced to hold himself back from the woman he loves for far too long.”

Though his movements were perhaps slower in the absence of his right arm, Giyuu nonetheless managed to carefully lay his blushing fiance out upon their futon. He sat back, his hand sliding between her knees to urge her thighs apart and make room for him as he settled between them.

“And I want to consummate our impending union.”

Y/N flushed crimson as he began pressing slow, teasing kisses along the inside of her thigh as he made his way down to where she was already aching for him once more.

She fought against the moan building in her throat. “Consummation is for those who have already wed, and you took liberties well before you ever proposed betrothal.”

“Have I not made my intention to marry you quite clear?” Giyuu hummed against her skin, those lapis eyes flicking up to hers, narrowing in on the way she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth.

“N-no,” and Giyuu smirked at the pitchiness of her tone and how her chest heaved beneath his ministrations. “Nor have you given me my sword, as you prom — oh.”

The shrine maiden’s head thudded back against the padding of the bed as Giyuu traced the tip of his tongue along her slit, gathering what remained of both his and her pleasure into his mouth with a low groan.

He pulled back just enough that only his lips grazed the outside of her cunt. “You still talk too much,” he murmured and then he latched his mouth to her core, his tongue sliding smoothly into her entrance, and Y/N fell silent once more.

wait til y’all see him accidentally make her squirt lmao

[evergone]

Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?

Too Friendly

Theodore Nott x reader

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.

Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.

Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala

“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.

“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.

“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.

Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.

Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).

The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.

She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”

He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”

“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.

“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.

Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.

“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”

Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.

Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.

“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.

“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.

“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”

His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”

Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.

“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.

“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.

“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.

“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”

“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.

You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”

When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.

A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”

Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.

“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.

“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”

“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.

“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.

He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.

“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.

“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”

For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.

“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.

“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

hey ley… 35 year old university professor (mommy) wanda goes to a strip club for her friends hen do and sees reader, her 21 year old student working there. wandas friends watch wanda watching reader dance for hours and decide to pay for her lap dance. how does this end up?

sorry if this isn’t explained right english isn’t my native language

Strip That Down

Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Student!Stripper!fem!reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Lap dance, strip club, fluff, angst, happy ending

A/N: This took on a life of it's own

Wanda Maximoff, a university professor, found herself reluctantly at a strip club, all thanks to her friend's insistence on celebrating her bachelorette party in the most unconventional way possible. The loud music, flashing lights, and the wild atmosphere were far from her usual quiet and academic environment.

Her friends were having a blast, cheering and laughing, while Wanda sipped her drink, trying to blend into the background. That was until her eyes caught sight of one of the dancers stepping onto the stage. The dancer moved with a grace and confidence that captivated the audience, but what really caught Wanda’s attention was the familiar face.

It was you, her student. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. You were mesmerizing, your movements fluid and enchanting. Wanda watched in awe, her mind racing with a mix of surprise, curiosity, and something else she couldn’t quite place.

Hours passed, but it felt like minutes. Wanda's friends, noticing her unwavering focus on you, began to whisper among themselves. They exchanged knowing glances and mischievous smiles.

"Hey, Wanda," one of them nudged her playfully, "You seem really interested in that dancer. Why don't we make this night even more unforgettable?"

Before Wanda could protest, they pooled their money and called over one of the staff members. Moments later, you were stepping off the stage and being guided toward a private room, where Wanda was already seated, her heart pounding in her chest.

You entered the room, your eyes widening slightly in recognition. “Professor Maximoff?” you asked, clearly surprised but maintaining your professional composure.

“Please, call me Wanda,” she replied, her voice a bit shaky.

You nodded, stepping closer, your movements still graceful and hypnotic. “Alright, Wanda. Let’s make this an experience you’ll never forget.”

As the music started, you began your dance, your eyes locked onto hers. The air was thick with tension, the boundaries of your usual professor-student relationship blurring with each passing second. Wanda’s friends watched from a distance, giggling and whispering, knowing they had given her a night she would remember for a long time.

As the music ended and the dance came to a close, you lingered for a moment, meeting Wanda's gaze with an intensity that left her breathless. The atmosphere in the private room was charged with an undeniable tension, and Wanda found herself at a loss for words.

"Thank you," she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "That was...incredible."

You smiled, a hint of shyness now breaking through your confident demeanor. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Wanda."

There was an awkward pause, both of you unsure of how to proceed. The professional lines had been blurred, and it was difficult to revert back to your usual roles.

"Do you want to talk for a bit?" you offered, sensing her discomfort but also wanting to prolong this unexpected encounter.

Wanda nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "Yes, that would be nice."

You sat down next to her, the ambiance still buzzing with the aftermath of the dance. Wanda's friends had moved on to other entertainment, giving you both some privacy.

"I had no idea you worked here," Wanda began, trying to navigate the delicate conversation. "I mean, it's not something you'd normally share in class, but..."

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's definitely a part of my life I keep separate from my studies. It helps pay for school and other expenses."

Wanda nodded, appreciating your honesty. "I understand. It's just...I never expected to see you here."

"Likewise," you replied, your eyes meeting hers again. "But I have to admit, it's nice to see a familiar face, even in such an unexpected place."

The two of you talked for a while longer, the conversation flowing more easily as you shared stories and learned more about each other outside the confines of the classroom. Wanda was surprised at how comfortable she felt, the initial shock giving way to a genuine connection.

Eventually, you both realized it was getting late. Wanda's friends were starting to gather, signaling that it was time to head home.

"It was really nice talking to you, Wanda," you said, standing up and offering her a warm smile.

"Likewise," she replied, feeling a strange mix of emotions. "I hope to see you in class on Monday."

You nodded. "Definitely. And if you ever want to talk again, you know where to find me."

With that, Wanda rejoined her friends, who were eager to hear about her experience. As they left the club, Wanda couldn't help but reflect on the night's events, her thoughts lingering on you and the unexpected connection you had formed. She knew things might be different in class now, but she also felt a sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing you again, both as her student and as someone who had made a lasting impression on her.

============

The week went by in a blur for Wanda. Lectures, meetings, and grading papers filled her days, but there was a constant undercurrent of distraction whenever she thought of you. In class, the air was thick with an unspoken tension. Every time your eyes met hers, a blush crept up Wanda's face, and she found it hard to concentrate on her usual authoritative demeanor.

By the time Friday arrived, Wanda's curiosity and the inexplicable pull she felt toward you had grown too strong to ignore. That evening, she found herself back at the strip club, her heart pounding with anticipation. She paid for a private dance again, but this time, her intentions were different.

As you stepped into the room and saw her, a warm smile spread across your face. "You want another dance, Professor?" you asked, your tone playful.

Wanda hesitated, then shook her head. "No...well, yes, but not right now. I just wanted to talk for a bit, if that's okay?"

You sat down next to her on the couch, giving her your full attention. "Of course, Wanda. We can talk about anything you want."

The conversation started off tentatively, but as the minutes passed, Wanda found herself opening up more. She talked about her week, the pressures of academia, and even some personal anecdotes she wouldn't normally share with a student. You listened intently, your presence calming and reassuring.

As the night wore on, Wanda felt a sense of contentment she hadn't experienced in a long time. Before she left, you reached into your bra, pulling out a sharpie. You always kept one on you. You took her arm, holding it against your chest as you wrote down your number on her hand.

"I don't want you to have to pay if you just want to talk, Professor. You can call me up and maybe we can talk over coffee and when I'm in normal clothes, okay?" you said, you looked up at her.

Wanda stared at her hand, her heart racing. "Y-yeah, we can do that...um, I know you're working late tonight, so maybe tomorrow afternoon?"

You smiled, nodding. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect. I'll look forward to it."

Wanda left the club that night with a flutter in her chest, clutching the piece of paper with your number like a lifeline. The boundaries she was crossing were clear, but the need to know more about you and the connection she felt was undeniable.

=================

Wanda arrived at the café a bit early, her nerves on edge. She chose a cozy corner table, away from the hustle and bustle, and ordered a cappuccino, hoping the warm drink would calm her jitters. The café had a quaint charm, with its mismatched furniture, local artwork on the walls, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. She glanced at the door every few minutes, her anticipation growing with each passing second.

Finally, you walked in, immediately spotting her in the corner. You looked different from the night before, dressed casually in jeans and a soft, navy-blue sweater, your hair down and free. Wanda felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over her as you approached.

"Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile.

"Hi," she replied, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. "Please, have a seat."

You sat down across from her, and for a moment, there was a comfortable silence as you both took in the shift from your last meeting's setting.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Wanda asked, trying to ease the initial awkwardness.

"Sure, I'll have a latte," you replied, and she flagged down a barista to place the order.

"So," you started, leaning forward slightly, "how was the rest of your night after the club?"

Wanda chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It was uneventful compared to the start. I went home, did some reading, and tried to process everything."

"Understandable," you said with a nod. "I can imagine it was a lot to take in."

The barista brought over your latte, and you both took a moment to sip your drinks, the initial awkwardness beginning to fade.

"What about you?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious. "How was the rest of your night?"

"Pretty typical," you said with a shrug. "Worked until closing, then headed home. Nothing as interesting as our encounter, though."

Wanda smiled, feeling more at ease. "It's still a bit surreal, seeing you here, outside of the club and the classroom."

"Yeah, it is," you agreed, your eyes meeting hers. "But I like it. It's nice to talk to you in a different setting."

The conversation began to flow more naturally. You talked about your studies, your interests, and the challenges of balancing work and school. Wanda found herself opening up more about her life as well, sharing stories from her university days and her experiences as a professor.

"So, what made you decide to become a professor?" you asked, genuinely interested.

Wanda smiled thoughtfully. "I've always loved literature and teaching. There's something incredibly rewarding about helping students discover their own passion for it. Plus, it keeps me constantly learning and growing."

"That's really inspiring," you said, your admiration evident. "I can see why you're such a great professor."

Wanda blushed at the compliment, feeling a warmth spread through her. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

The conversation took on a lighter tone as you both shared more personal anecdotes. Wanda found herself laughing more than she had in a long time, the tension and formality melting away.

"Do you have any hobbies outside of work and school?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious about your life beyond what she already knew.

"Well, I love dancing, obviously," you said with a grin. "But I also enjoy painting. It's a great way to relax and express myself."

"Really? I'd love to see some of your work sometime," Wanda said, intrigued.

"I'd like that," you replied, your smile widening. "What about you? Any hobbies?"

"I enjoy reading, of course, and gardening. There's something very therapeutic about taking care of plants," Wanda shared.

"I can see that," you said thoughtfully. "It sounds peaceful."

The afternoon flew by as you continued to talk, the initial nervousness long gone. There was a genuine connection between you, a chemistry that neither of you could deny.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the café windows, you realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably get going," you said reluctantly. "I have a shift tonight."

Wanda nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Of course. Thank you for meeting me. This was... really nice."

"It was," you agreed, standing up and gathering your things. "Let's do it again sometime."

"Absolutely," Wanda said, standing up as well. "I'll call you soon."

You exchanged one last smile before parting ways, both of you feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation for what lay ahead. The boundaries had been crossed, but what you had found was something real and promising, a connection that neither of you could ignore.

==========================

The weeks following your coffee shop date with Wanda were filled with subtle yet palpable tension. Each class was an exercise in restraint as you both tried to maintain a professional demeanor. Yet, every glance, every accidental touch, and every shared smile hinted at the underlying attraction that was growing stronger by the day.

One late afternoon, after most of the students had left, you found yourself lingering in the classroom, gathering your things. You needed to ask Wanda about an upcoming assignment, but the real reason you stayed behind was the undeniable urge to be close to her, even if just for a moment.

Wanda was at her desk, engrossed in grading papers. Her glasses perched on her nose, and a strand of hair fell across her face, which she absentmindedly pushed back. You approached her desk, your heart pounding.

"Professor Maximoff, could I ask you something about the assignment?" you asked, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Wanda looked up, a warm smile spreading across her face when she saw you. "Of course, what do you need help with?"

You leaned over her desk, pointing to your notes, but as you explained your question, Wanda's focus began to drift. Her eyes traced the curve of your jaw, the way your hair framed your face, and the subtle scent of your perfume. She found herself entranced, her mind clouded with thoughts she struggled to keep at bay.

You noticed her distraction and paused, your eyes meeting hers. "Professor?"

Wanda blinked, snapping back to reality. "Sorry, I... I got distracted."

Before you could respond, she reached out and took your hand, her grip firm but gentle. The electricity between you was undeniable, and as if drawn by an invisible force, Wanda leaned forward, closing the distance between you.

In a heartbeat, her lips were on yours, soft and insistent. The kiss was filled with a mixture of longing and relief, as if you both had been holding back for far too long. You responded eagerly, your free hand cupping her cheek as the kiss deepened.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Wanda's eyes were filled with a mix of fear and desire. "I know I'm your professor, but I can't stop thinking about you," she confessed, her voice trembling.

You searched her eyes, finding the same vulnerability mirrored in your own. "I can't either," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda took a deep breath, her hand still holding yours. "This is complicated. We both know that. But... I don't want to fight it anymore."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "Neither do I."

The air between you was thick with unspoken promises and a shared understanding of the risks involved. But in that moment, none of it seemed to matter. What mattered was the connection you had, the feelings you shared, and the undeniable chemistry that had brought you to this point.

======================

A few weeks had passed since that night at Wanda's apartment. The warmth and comfort of those moments now seemed like a distant memory. The reality of your relationship's complications began to weigh heavily on both of you, and the excitement of secrecy was gradually replaced by the fear of discovery.

It all came to a head one Thursday afternoon. You had stayed after class to ask Wanda about an upcoming project, but the atmosphere was different. There was a tension in the air, an unspoken strain that neither of you could ignore.

Wanda looked up from her desk as you approached, her eyes tired and filled with something you couldn't quite place. "What do you need help with?" she asked, her voice lacking its usual warmth.

You hesitated, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. "I wanted to discuss the project, but... is everything okay, Wanda?"

She sighed, removing her glasses and rubbing her temples. "Honestly? No, it's not. This... whatever this is between us, it's becoming too much. The hiding, the secrecy... I can't keep doing this."

Your heart sank. You had known this conversation was coming, but it didn't make it any easier. "I know it's hard, but we can figure it out. We just need to be careful."

"It's not just about being careful," Wanda said, her frustration evident. "I'm your professor. There's a power imbalance here, and if anyone finds out, it could ruin both our careers. I can't risk that. And I can't ask you to risk that either."

"But I don't care about the risks," you insisted, your voice breaking. "I care about you."

Wanda stood up, her expression conflicted. "I care about you too. More than I should. But that's exactly why we have to stop this. It's not fair to either of us."

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "So, what are you saying? Are you ending this?"

"I don't want to," Wanda said, her voice softening. "But I think we have to. At least until the semester is over. Then maybe we can figure out where to go from there."

The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock. You could see the pain in Wanda's eyes, mirroring your own. "I understand," you said quietly, fighting back tears. "But it doesn't make it any less painful."

Wanda reached out, taking your hand in hers. "I'm sorry. This isn't what I wanted. But I think it's what's best for both of us right now."

You nodded, squeezing her hand one last time before letting go. "I should go," you said, your voice trembling. "I'll see you in class."

As you walked out of her office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. The once-bright future you had imagined with Wanda now seemed uncertain and distant. The days that followed were filled with a hollow ache, each class a reminder of what you had lost.

Wanda, too, felt the strain. Her lectures were more subdued, her smiles less frequent. The connection that had once brought you both so much joy now felt like a source of pain and regret.

Yet, amid the heartbreak, there was a glimmer of hope. The semester would eventually end, and with it, the constraints of your current roles. Until then, you both would have to navigate the difficult path ahead, holding onto the promise that perhaps, one day, things could be different.

====================

The days after Wanda broke things off were a blur of emptiness and despair. You found it increasingly difficult to muster the energy to attend classes, let alone participate. When you did manage to show up, your mind wandered, unable to focus on the lectures or assignments. Wanda's presence at the front of the classroom was a constant reminder of what you had lost, and it was unbearable.

Your grades began to slip, and the once-promising future you had envisioned seemed to crumble before your eyes. Your friends noticed the change in you, their concerned inquiries met with forced smiles and half-hearted reassurances. But the truth was, you were struggling to find a reason to keep going.

Your job at the club, once a place where you could escape and express yourself, became another source of frustration. Your boss, a stern but fair man named Tony, had been patient at first, giving you the benefit of the doubt. But as weeks passed and your performances grew lackluster, his patience wore thin.

One night, after another uninspired shift, Tony called you into his office. The room was dimly lit, the walls adorned with framed photos of past performances and performers. He sat behind his desk, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.

"Close the door," he said, his voice firm. You did as he asked, taking a seat across from him.

Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "What's going on with you? You've been off your game for weeks now. Customers are noticing, and it's starting to affect business."

You looked down at your hands, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, Tony. I've just been dealing with some personal stuff."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. Everyone goes through tough times. But you need to snap out of it. You're a great dancer, and I've seen what you can do when you're at your best. But right now, you're not even close."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them away, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I just... I don't see the point anymore."

Tony's expression softened, and he leaned back in his chair. "Life's going to throw a lot of crap your way, kid. But you can't let it break you. You have to find something to hold onto, something that makes it worth pushing through."

His words hit home, and you realized that you had been letting your grief consume you. You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "I'll try, Tony. I promise."

"That's all I'm asking," he said, offering a small, encouraging smile. "Take the weekend to clear your head. Come back Monday ready to give it your all."

You left his office feeling a mix of guilt and determination. The walk home was filled with a thousand thoughts racing through your mind, but one stood out above the rest: you needed to find a way to move forward.

Over the weekend, you forced yourself to confront your feelings head-on. You spent hours journaling, trying to make sense of the tangled emotions inside you. You reached out to friends, admitting that you were struggling and accepting their offers of support. Slowly, the fog of despair began to lift, and a sense of clarity emerged.

When Monday came, you walked into the club with a renewed sense of purpose. Tony gave you an approving nod as you prepared for your shift, and you felt a spark of hope ignite within you. The night went better than it had in weeks, and while it wasn't perfect, it was a step in the right direction.

In class, you made a conscious effort to engage, to focus on the material despite the pain of seeing Wanda. It wasn't easy, and there were moments when the hurt threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed through, determined to reclaim some semblance of normalcy.

Wanda noticed the change in you, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and pride. She knew how difficult it was for you, and she respected the strength it took to keep going.

==========================

The semester was drawing to a close, but the weight of everything felt heavier than ever. You had done your best to keep pushing forward, but the cumulative stress and heartbreak had finally reached a breaking point. That night, after another rough shift at the club, you found yourself standing outside Wanda's apartment, drenched from the pouring rain. Without thinking, you pounded on her door, the desperate need for comfort overriding any lingering hesitation.

When Wanda opened the door, her eyes widened in shock at the sight of you. Your makeup was smeared from tears and rain, your hair plastered to your face, and your stage outfit clung to your soaked skin. Without a word, she pulled you inside, the warmth of her apartment a stark contrast to the cold outside.

"Come here," she said gently, guiding you towards the bathroom. Her voice was soft, filled with concern, as she grabbed a towel and began to dry you off. "Let's get you out of these clothes."

You didn't resist as she helped you out of your wet stage outfit, her touch tender and careful. Wanda filled the tub with hot water, and you sank into it, drawing your knees to your chest. The heat enveloped you, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside.

Wanda rolled up her sleeves and took a cloth, dipping it in the water before gently washing your back. "What happened, sweetie?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a mix of worry and tenderness.

Tears welled up again, and you struggled to find the words. "I just... I couldn't take it anymore. Everything feels so overwhelming. I feel like I'm drowning."

Wanda continued to wash your back, her movements slow and soothing. "It's okay," she murmured. "You're safe here. Take your time."

You took a shaky breath, the warmth of the bath and Wanda's presence slowly starting to calm you. "I miss you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to move on, to focus on my classes and my job, but it's been so hard without you."

Wanda's hand paused for a moment before resuming its gentle strokes. "I miss you too," she confessed, her voice breaking slightly. "Every day has been a struggle, knowing that I hurt you and that we're both suffering because of this."

You turned your head to look at her, the vulnerability in her eyes mirroring your own. "I don't know what to do, Wanda. I feel so lost."

She put the cloth aside and leaned in, wrapping her arms around you from behind, her cheek resting against your wet hair. "We'll figure it out together," she said softly. "I don't have all the answers, but I know we can't keep going like this. Maybe we need to find a way to make this work, despite everything."

You closed your eyes, leaning into her embrace, the warmth of her body providing a comfort you had been desperately missing. "But how? The risks... they're still there."

"I know," Wanda replied, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "But maybe we can find a way to manage them. We don't have to have all the answers right now. We just need to take it one step at a time."

You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in weeks. "I want that. I want to be with you, no matter what it takes."

Wanda tightened her embrace, her lips brushing against your temple. "Then we'll find a way," she whispered. "We'll take it slow, be careful, and support each other. We don't have to face this alone."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, the warmth of the bath and Wanda's comforting presence easing the pain that had been weighing on your heart.

After the bath, Wanda helped you into one of her shirts and a pair of soft shorts. The fabric was warm and comforting, carrying her familiar scent that enveloped you like a gentle hug. As you stood there, feeling the weight of the evening slowly lifting, Wanda led you to the living room.

She sat you down on the couch, then disappeared briefly into the kitchen, returning with two mugs of hot tea. Handing one to you, she settled beside you, her presence a reassuring anchor.

"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. The steam rising from the tea provided a soothing balm for your frazzled nerves.

Wanda smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I hate seeing you like this."

You took a sip of the tea, letting its warmth seep into you. "It's just been so hard. Everything feels like it's falling apart."

Wanda reached out, taking your hand in hers. "I know. I’m sorry that it had to be like this. It truly was the last thing I wanted."

Her words brought a lump to your throat. "It just feels like…I don’t even know…I’ve never felt like this before."

Wanda squeezed your hand gently. "Then we take it one day at a time. We support each other, and we figure it out as we go. It's not going to be easy, but I believe we can make it work."

You looked into her eyes, finding a strength there that you desperately needed. "I want to believe that too," you whispered. "I want to be with you, no matter what."

Wanda leaned in, her forehead resting against yours. "We'll get through this. I know we will darling."

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, the steady rhythm of your breaths synchronizing. The pain and uncertainty were still there, but they felt more manageable with Wanda by your side. 

You checked your phone looking at the time it was already three in the morning.

Eventually, she pulled away slightly, her eyes searching yours. "Why don't we watch something? Distract ourselves for a bit."

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Okay. What do you have in mind?"

Wanda smiled, reaching for the remote. "How about we start with an episode of Bob's Burgers? I did promise, after all."

You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine smile breaking through the lingering sadness. "I'd like that."

She turned on the TV, and as the familiar opening theme of Bob's Burgers filled the room, you shifted with her until you were laying on top of her, feeling a sense of peace you hadn't felt in weeks. She pulled a blanket over the two of you.

As the episode played, you found yourself laughing along with the antics of the Belcher family. Wanda's arm around you and the warmth of her presence made everything feel a little bit better. The future was still uncertain, but in that moment, you knew you had someone who cared about you deeply, someone who was willing to face the challenges with you.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that things could get better. One step at a time, with Wanda by your side.

========================

One year later, your life looked completely different. The hardships and uncertainties of the past had given way to a future filled with promise and happiness. You and Wanda had navigated through the complexities of your relationship, emerging stronger and more connected than ever.

The apartment you shared was a cozy, vibrant space that reflected both of your personalities. The walls were adorned with a mix of Wanda's favorite vintage posters and your collection of quirky art. Plants thrived in every corner, adding a touch of nature to your urban sanctuary. The smell of fresh coffee and Wanda's homemade pastries often filled the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort.

It was a Saturday morning, and the sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the living room. You were curled up on the couch, a stack of textbooks and notes spread out before you as you prepared for your final exams. Wanda was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast.

"How's the studying going?" Wanda called out, her voice cheerful and light.

You looked up from your notes, smiling. "It's going well. Just a few more chapters to review, and I think I'll be ready."

Wanda appeared in the doorway, a plate of pancakes in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She set them down on the coffee table in front of you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "I know you'll do great. You've worked so hard."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "I couldn't have done it without you."

She sat down beside you, her hand finding yours. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

You nodded, squeezing her hand. "We really have. It's hard to believe how different things are now."

Wanda smiled, her eyes filled with love and pride. "I'm so proud of you. You're about to graduate, and you've accomplished so much. And I'm so happy we took a chance on us."

Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked at her. "Me too. I can't imagine my life without you."

=================

The months leading up to your graduation were a whirlwind of activity and excitement. Wanda was there every step of the way, supporting you through the stress of final exams and celebrating each milestone with you. You both balanced your lives between work, study, and nurturing your relationship, finding joy in the little moments you shared.

Graduation day arrived, and the sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Dressed in your cap and gown, you stood in the crowd of graduates, scanning the audience for Wanda. When your name was called, and you walked across the stage to receive your diploma, the cheers and applause seemed to fade into the background as you locked eyes with her, her smile brighter than ever.

After the ceremony, you found her waiting for you, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. "Congratulations, graduate," she said, her voice choked with emotion.

You took the flowers, pulling her into a tight embrace. "We did it," you whispered, feeling tears of happiness welling up.

Wanda pulled back slightly, her hands cupping your face. "You did it. And I'm so incredibly proud of you."

The celebration continued into the evening, with friends and family joining you both for a party at your apartment. Laughter and music filled the air, and as the night wore on, you found yourself standing on the balcony with Wanda, the city lights twinkling below.

"It's been quite a journey," you said, leaning against the railing, Wanda's arms wrapped around you from behind.

"It has," she agreed, resting her chin on your shoulder. "And it's just the beginning. We have so much ahead of us."

You turned to face her, your eyes filled with love and gratitude. "I can't wait to see what the future holds, as long as I'm with you."

Wanda smiled, her eyes shining with the same love and commitment. "Me too. Here's to our future, together."

[fanficlolsblog]

THE CO-STAR PART 2

back to my main masterlist

pairing: actress!reader x jenna ortega

summary: the day after a tense kiss scene, Y/N and jenna ortega face awkwardness on set. jenna's avoidance creates discomfort, but a heartfelt conversation helps clarify the situation. jenna reveals she's dealing with personal issues, easing the tension and allowing them to start rebuilding their professional rapport.

warnings: personal and professional tension, emotion discomfort and awkwardness, strained relationships and personal issues which are not implied.

a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.

part 1

The second day of filming after that infamous kiss scene was a tightrope walk between professionalism and personal tension. I arrived at the set, my stomach a knot of nerves, hoping the awkwardness from yesterday would fade into a distant memory. Instead, the atmosphere was thicker with discomfort than I'd anticipated.

Jenna had been distant since that intense scene. While we managed to exchange polite nods and forced smiles, every interaction felt strained, like an unspoken barrier had been erected between us. I caught her glancing my way occasionally, but whenever our eyes met, she quickly looked away, as if afraid to reveal whatever thoughts were tumbling through her head.

The day began with a quick wardrobe check. I tried to ignore the prickle of tension as Jenna walked in, her movements precise and focused. I offered a friendly “Good morning,” but she responded with a curt nod, her eyes already focused on the script in her hands. I followed suit, trying to bury my anxiety in the lines and stage directions.

Our first scene of the day was an emotionally charged dialogue. As Jenna and I took our positions, I couldn’t help but notice how she maintained a physical distance, avoiding any inadvertent touches or brushes of our shoulders. It was odd, given that we had shared such an intimate scene yesterday, and now even the smallest gesture seemed to be scrutinized.

The scene played out with an almost mechanical efficiency, the rawness of yesterday replaced by a clinical detachment. After the director called “cut,” I tried to make small talk, hoping to bridge the gap that had formed. “That was good, right?” I asked, offering a half-hearted smile.

Jenna’s response was a brief, “Yeah. It was fine.” She didn’t elaborate, and the silence that followed felt heavier than the lines we had just delivered. I wanted to ask her if everything was okay, but the look she gave me—half guarded, half apprehensive—made me hesitate.

Later, during a break, I watched as Jenna mingled with the rest of the cast and crew. She seemed engaged and animated with them, but when it came to me, she was avoidant. I understood, of course, that the kiss scene had been charged, but I didn’t expect the fallout to be so personal.

As the day wore on, I found myself increasingly disheartened. Jenna’s avoidance left me feeling exposed and uncertain, wondering if I had somehow crossed a line or made a mistake. The directors and crew members went about their work with the usual efficiency, but I was preoccupied with Jenna’s discomfort and my own lingering embarrassment.

During one particularly long stretch of waiting, I sat alone in the green room, trying to focus on my lines. Jenna walked in, and for a moment, our eyes met. I saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—before she turned her gaze away and took a seat on the opposite side of the room.

I took a deep breath and decided to approach her. It was a risk, but I needed to clear the air. “Jenna, can we talk for a minute?” I asked softly.

She looked up, her expression a mixture of surprise and wariness. “Sure,” she replied quietly.

I sat down across from her, the distance between us palpable. “I know things have been a bit tense since yesterday, and I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay. I mean, if I did something—”

“No, it’s not you,” Jenna interrupted, her voice steady but tinged with fatigue. “It’s just... I’ve been dealing with some stuff on my own. It’s been hard to separate personal feelings from work lately.”

I nodded, trying to process her words. “I get that. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Our scenes are really important to me, and I want them to be as authentic as possible.”

Jenna looked relieved, though still uncertain. “I appreciate that. I do. It’s just been... a lot. I’ll try to do better. It’s not about you.”

We shared a tentative smile, the unspoken understanding bringing a measure of relief. It wasn’t a complete resolution, but it was a start. As we returned to our respective places on set, the atmosphere felt a little lighter. We still had a long way to go, but acknowledging the tension was the first step towards mending our strained relationship.

As the day progressed, Jenna and I managed to find a new rhythm. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. The scenes felt less mechanical and more genuine, and I clung to that as a sign that we might, with time, navigate this awkward period and find our way back to a more comfortable place. Even be somewhat friends…

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Feat their son, Jack. Them fighting over him bad mouthing and not doing anything to help Lewis for this season. And she's very disappointed. She's giving him silent treatment, no kisses/hugs. Maybe he'll do everything to fix it. Fluff/suggestive/angst. Tag me later!!! Thanks!! :)))

The soft hum of Jack’s cartoons played in the background, barely cutting through the tense silence in the Wolff household. You stood at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables with precise, almost robotic movements, while Jack sat cross-legged on the living room floor, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing between his parents.

Toto had been trying to catch your attention all morning. You had perfected the art of the silent treatment, replying to his occasional attempts at conversation with curt nods or monosyllabic hums. It was killing him.

"Darling," Toto began for the third time that morning, his Austrian accent heavier than usual, a sure sign he was stressed. "Can we talk about this?"

You didn’t even glance his way, placing the chopped vegetables into a bowl with an audible clatter. The tension in your shoulders was palpable, and it made his chest ache.

"Jack, go wash your hands for lunch, sweetheart," you said softly, turning to your son with a gentle smile. Jack bounded up the stairs, leaving his parents alone in the thick, uncomfortable quiet.

Once Jack was out of earshot, you turned to Toto, crossing your arms. "Talk about what, exactly?" Your tone was calm but carried a blade’s edge, and Toto flinched.

"About this—about us. About what you’re upset with me about," he said, gesturing helplessly.

You scoffed. "You know exactly what I’m upset about, Toto. Don’t pretend you don’t."

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Is this about Lewis?"

"Of course, it’s about Lewis," you snapped, finally unleashing the anger you’d been bottling up. "Lewis has given his heart and soul to Mercedes, to you, and this is how you repay him? By letting him leave without so much as a fight? By standing there while people drag him through the mud as if he hasn’t brought you seven constructors’ championships?"

Toto opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off.

"And what have you done to support him this season? Nothing! You’ve let him shoulder the blame for a car that wasn’t even his fault. Do you know what it’s like to watch him get torn apart while you just… stand there? It’s shameful, Toto."

He winced at your words, your disappointment cutting deeper than any accusation ever could. "I—"

"No," you interrupted, your voice wavering slightly. "I don’t want to hear your excuses. I trusted you to have his back, and you let him down. You let me down."

Toto took a hesitant step toward you, but you held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "You don’t get to touch me right now, Toto. Not until you fix this."

His heart sank. For all your years together, your relationship had been built on mutual respect and trust. Seeing you so hurt, so distant, was almost unbearable.

"I’ll fix it," he promised, his voice firm despite the lump in his throat. "I’ll do whatever it takes."

You turned back to the counter, blinking back tears. "You’d better," you muttered, barely above a whisper.

The next few days passed in a strained truce. Toto made good on his promise to fix things, spending long hours on calls and in meetings, but the tension between you remained. He missed your warmth, your touch, the easy laughter that usually filled your home.

Jack, perceptive even at his young age, noticed the shift. "Why is Mama mad at you, Papa?" he asked one evening as they played with toy cars on the floor.

Toto sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because I made a mistake, Jack. A big one."

"Are you gonna say sorry?"

"I’m trying, buddy," he said, ruffling Jack’s hair. "But sometimes, saying sorry isn’t enough. You have to show you’re sorry too."

Jack seemed to consider this, then nodded solemnly. "Okay. Good luck, Papa."

Two weeks later, Toto walked into the house with a rare spring in his step. He found you in the living room, curled up with a book while Jack built a Lego tower nearby.

"Can we talk?" he asked cautiously, and you set your book down with a sigh, gesturing for Jack to give you a moment.

Once Jack was out of the room, Toto sat down beside you, close but not touching. "I’ve spoken to Lewis," he began. "And to the team. We’re working on a proper send-off for him—something that reflects everything he’s done for Mercedes."

You raised an eyebrow, but he wasn’t done.

"I’ve also made a statement publicly, addressing the issues from this season. I’ve taken accountability for the car’s performance and defended Lewis’ contributions. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start."

You studied him for a long moment, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. "And Lewis?"

"He understands why I handled things the way I did, but he also knows I regret not doing more earlier. We’ve agreed to stay close, even after he moves to Ferrari. He’ll always be family."

Your shoulders relaxed slightly, and Toto dared to reach for your hand. This time, you didn’t pull away.

"I hate fighting with you," he admitted, his voice soft. "I hate knowing I’ve disappointed you. You’re my compass, mein Liebling. When you’re upset with me, I feel… lost."

Your heart softened at his words, and you squeezed his hand. "I just want you to do the right thing, Toto. For Lewis, for the team, for us."

"I will," he promised, leaning in closer. "I’ll always strive to be better. For you. For our family."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you leaned in and kissed him. It was soft and slow, a reminder of everything you’d built together and everything you still had to fight for.

When you pulled away, Toto rested his forehead against yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Does this mean I’m forgiven?"

"Not completely," you teased, but the warmth in your eyes told him he was well on his way.

From the doorway, Jack peeked in, grinning. "Mama and Papa are friends again!" he exclaimed, running over to join you.

You both laughed, pulling him into a tight hug. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together—just as you always had.

@pear-1206

[zvdvdlvr]

single ma!reader and si continued!! 🤍

     Simon had given you his phone number with a ‘let me know when you both get home safe’. Surprisingly, the conversation you both had over coffee (with Annalise waddling from your lap to Simon’s mid-conversation) had gone extremely well. Simon loved the smile you gave him, completely unaware of the deeds he’d done and throats he’d torn apart. Simon loved the way your eyes softened when Annalise babbled nonesense as you proved yet again how great and mother and woman you were.

     Simon was finally settling down to take a cup of tea a few hours later when his phone dinged.

Unknown Number: Hi! It’s y/n from the café! I wanted to let you know we made it home okay and that Anna had a fun time with you. Thank you so much for being patient with her (and me!)

     Simon’s big thumbs moved across the keyboard in record time- and he had to pull back and spell check his text before he clicked send.

Simon: Very good. It was no problem. That girl you have is a good one. You’re doing well with her. I enjoyed today too. Thanks again for the drink. Glad you made it home safe and sound.

     After sending Simon added your contact to his personal cell. He took care to spell your name right and saved. You texted back with:

Y/n: Thank you for telling me that! It gets hard some days by myself, but I try my best for her. That little girl has saved me as much as I’ve saved her (if that makes any sense haha)

Y/n: What about you? Did you make it home alright?

     Simon knew how challenging it was to raise a kid by yourself- let alone raise one well. And Simon knew what you meant. He found himself smiling at the little glowing box in his hands. You kept the conversation flowing and Simon had no problems with talking to you for as long as you wanted.

Simon: I know exactly what you mean, y/n. And yes, I got home fine. Still deciding what I want for dinner tonight.

     You replied before Simon had time to worry if his response was… boring.

Y/n: Us too! Annalise wants some Italian but we’re all out of noodles! :( I’m thinking about taking her out to the pasta place a few blocks downtown, but the poor thing hasn’t had a nap today so I don’t know how she’ll be if we stay for more than half an hour

Simon: Italian sounds good. Anna has good taste. Is the place new? I never noticed it.

Y/n: It’s pretty new, yeah. They opened it like two months ago and it’s PHENOMENAL. Like, amazing

Y/n: Do you want to come with us?

Y/n: If not, that’s ok. I just figured Anna would like to see you again and if you haven’t gone yet it would be a good time to try it now

Y/n: But yeah, if not, that’s fine too!

Y/n: Sorry if I’m textinf too much

     Your typo didn’t escape Simon. His heart raced as fast your fingers were on the screen. He re-read the text.

Simon: Just Annalise wants to see me?

     Simon shut his phone off and turned it upside down on the couch beside him and looked rapidly around the room. He didn’t know if he was reading the situation wrong.

Y/n: I would love to see you again too if that’s what you’re asking

Simon: Send me your address and what time you want me to pick you up. I would also like to see you both again tonight. :).

🏷️: @tillnever644 @the-palelady @vlads-dracula3 @raf3sbby @mysterybabe

[wileys-russo]

maternal instinct (4) II a.russo

(1) (2) (3) maternal instinct (4) II a.russo

"thanks for the shirt big foot! i like red." bella beamed as alessia began to unbuckle her from the car seat with a smile, clad in a small arsenal jersey on top of the hoodie and sweats alessia had to fight her to put on underneath given the cooler weather.

"good. red is the best!" alessia winked, honking the five year olds nose and making her giggle before helping her out of the seat. "i can carry it! you have your bag already." bella held her arms out for her backpack as alessia assisted her to shrug it on, tugging her hood out from beneath it.

"i've never watched a football game! mummy doesn't like sports and my daddy prefers cricket which is so boring. is football boring? whats it like?" bella asked, bouncing excitedly on the heels of her feet as alessia popped the trunk and grabbed out her own bags.

"definitely not boring!" the blonde promised slinging her gymbag over her shoulder and pushing the trunk closed before holding her hand out for bella.

"so there's two teams-" alessia began to explain football, simplifying it as much as she could for the small girl tightly clinging onto her hand who hung off of her every word.

"-and then whatever team scores the most goals, wins." alessia finished her story right as she arrived inside, having taken the long route through from the back of the stadium to avoid anyone seeing bella, knowing how seriously you took her privacy.

"ohhh, and that will be you!" bella grinned as alessia chuckled. "i hope so. when i score i've been told i make airplane arms, like this-" alessia let go of her hand and straightened her arms out like a plane, bella collapsing into giggles at the sight.

"she does! air russo we call her." alessia looked up at the new voice, leah appearing from one of the physio rooms with laura in tow, the two of them with fresh strapping on their knees. "leah!" bella waved happily, pausing for a moment to look up at alessia.

"you can go say hi." alessia murmured with a nod, patting the girls back in encouragement as she skipped forward. "i'm isabella but everyone calls me bella!" she greeted laura who seemed a bit taken aback, looking between the five year old and alessia with a confused frown.

"would you like to come see the change rooms?" leah offered, addressing alessia more so than bella, the blonde quickly checking the time and nodding. you were due to meet them in around a half hour, before pitch inspection and before the crowds all really came rolling into meadow park.

"is she-" laura started as leah took bella's hand and continued on forward, alessia shaking her head with an amused smile. "no, she's my friends kid, i've been babysitting for the weekend." alessia explained as the austrian nodded in understanding, the pair falling into conversation as they followed where leah had gone.

not at all to alessia's surprise by the time she arrived to the change room bella was busy talking a few of the girls ears off who listened eagerly, the blonde wincing slightly as she realised bella was recounting the story of her head lice.

she'd of course already checked with you as many things ahead of time as she could think of, going as far as to type out a list of questions and sending them to you around one in the morning last night, getting a reply not long after eight this morning with some answers and that you were just leaving.

you understood bella would be around her team and her friends and had no issues with this, assuring alessia repeatedly that you trusted her and knew bella was in safe hands, still finding her nerves and uncertainty endearing as always.

which is how you found her a little while later, eyes canning the horizon nervously, bella chattering away as usual but you could see the blonde wasn't really listening.

then, she spotted you, relief flooding her features as her body visibly sagged a little and she squatted down, pointing you out to your daughter whose whole face brightened making you grin.

you were still a fair few metres away but bella cleared them in seconds flat, throwing herself at you as you caught her easily and spun her around like you did when she was much younger and smaller.

"i missed you so so so so so so so so so-" bella started as you threw your head back with a laugh. "babe breathe!" you tickled as she paused and inhaled deeply. "-so much!" she finished as you attacked her face with kisses, her giggling filling the air as you headed over toward alessia.

"hi." you greeted the footballer, eyes quickly raking up and down taking her in in her uniform, smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"hi." the blonde echoed back with a slightly shy smile of her own, the pair of you hugging as well as you could with bella dangling off your hip who wound up joining in, looping an arm around either of your necks.

"mummy leah said i could inspect the pitch with her. can i?" bella asked, busting out her best puppy dog eyes which you always struggled to really say no to. "yeah you can go, but come right back here after so we can find our seats." you placed her down, watching as she raced over to a blonde stood a few feet away, tugging on her hand.

you caught the girls eye and she raised her hand in a wave which you returned. "thats leah, the pizza thief and gatecrasher from the other night. i think bella might even like her more than me!" alessia rolled her eyes playfully as your daughter headed onto the field with a couple of unfamiliar girls all in the same uniform as the blonde in front of you.

"so should i take her to dinner tonight instead?" you questioned with a smile, alessia's mouth widening into a small o. "not funny, seriously not funny." the taller girl warned as you shook your head, tugging her in for another hug now you didn't have a five year old hanging off you.

"thank you so much for looking after her less, seriously. it takes a lot for me to trust someone like that and you just proved me right to trust you." you mumbled, feeling her squeeze you a little tighter.

"thank you for trusting me." alessia mumbled back, hand rubbing circles on your back as you nearly melted into her. "and the head lice! god i am so sorry about the head lice." you winced as the pair of you pulled away causing the taller girl to laugh.

"hey no need to apologize, my hairs never been cleaner."

~

"-and then which ever team scores most, wins." bella finished recounting how football worked to you, after the game had finished with arsenal winning 3-1. "oh really? well thank you bell, i finally understand now!" you sighed hitting your palm against your forehead.

at alessia's request you were waiting for her to come find the pair of you, since she still had bella's booster seat you'd left your car back at your apartment and ubered to the game.

you'd been given a lanyard by the blonde earlier on, a family and friends pass that meant you were able to wait by the players lot, sending slightly nervous smiles to those who passed you clearly a little wary of who you were.

though it was obvious bella had made her splash with more than a few of the players coming to say bye as they made their way to the cars, not that it surprised you given bella was a chronic chatterbox, something she got from her father.

"hey bell." you sat down beside her on the railing you were hanging by waiting for alessia, the girl looking up from where she was pretending a stick was a magic wand, kicking rocks about and chanting at them.

"so you know how daddy and olivia live together." you started, referring to her fathers long term girlfriend, your daughter nodding. "you like olivia right? you guys are friends?" you continued as bella nodded yeah. "yeah and she's daddys special friend." bella chirped as you now nodded.

"well. what would you think if alessia was mummys special friend?" you asked a little nervously, looking at her as the girl seemed to pause and tick things over. "would she come live with us?" she asked with a small frown.

"no, she'd still live across the hall. but it means she would come over more, maybe sometimes she might have sleepovers, we could all go do fun stuff together the three of us." you explained gently as bella nodded slowly.

"like what?" "mm well like go to the movies, go for dinner, go to the park, go bowling. whatever we want! but it means she would be around a lot more, and if you don't want that i need you to tell me okay? i won't be upset." you promised sincerely, always ready to put your daughters needs above your own much as it might hurt.

"i like big foot. but if she's your special friend, does that mean i can't be friends with her anymore?" bella asked, standing and going back to poking at rocks with her stick. "not at all, the two of you still get to be friends, and spend even more time together. did you have a good time with her this weekend?" you asked, watching with a small chuckle as she waved her stick around with a yell and a dance.

"yeah really fun! we got to wear special hats, i flew a rocket, we made pizza and watched bluey, and she even gave my teddys a bath and taught them how to breathe underwater!" bella glanced at you with a face eating grin which you couldn't help but mirror.

"sounds very cool. so, you're okay if alessia and i are special friends?" you confirmed, bella nodding with a hum and swinging her stick around, hitting it into the railing and groaning as it snapped in half.

though as she picked up one half and hurried off to grab the other someone beat her to it. "woah mutant! you didn't tell me you knew magic?" alessia gasped holding the snapped stick in her hand.

"she calls me mutant, its my nickname like hers is big feet." bella explained to you over her shoulder as you pulled a face and nodded in understanding.

"bella have i ever told you how i got these big feet?" alessia quirked an eyebrow dramatically as you stood and grabbed your daughters bag.

"...from a spell that went horribly wrong!" you smiled as alessia lunged at the five year old who squealed and raced off, the blonde chasing after her as they both used their snapped sticks to cast pretend spells at one another.

"great, guess i'm going to dinner with my kid and my big kid." you chuckled to yourself, following after them to the car as they hid behind things trying to shoot one another with their newfound magic.

~

"i could have carried her less, you just played a full ninety minutes." you whispered quietly where the three of you stood together in the elevator headed on up to your floor.

"i told you its fine, and that i could have taken her and my bag." the blonde smiled nodding to her arsenal gym bag slung over your shoulder, both of you pausing for a moment as bella stirred but didn't move.

the two of you fell silent as you reached your floor, your keys plucked from your pocket as alessia very carefully carried bella inside once the door was unlocked, following after you to her bedroom once it was closed.

tugging down the covers with one hand alessia lowered the five year old into bed with the other, moving aside so you could tuck her in, flicking on the star lamp by the base of her bed.

you brushed bella's hair out of her face and chuckled at the way her mouth hung open as she slept soundly with a shake of your head, kissing her forehead and backing up, alessia stepping out of the way as you both hovered in the door frame for a moment.

"she's so perfect." you sighed with a soft smile, alessia mirroring it beside you. "yeah, must get that from her dad." you gave her a playful side eye and pushed her, very slowly pulling the door shut with the quietest of clicks.

"safe." you sighed after pausing by her door for a minute, no little footsteps or voice crying out your name meaning bella was indeed out like a light.

"you know for a tiny girl she packs away food, must be that ghastly tummy monster." alessia tutted as the pair of you returned to the living room.

"well you did a pretty good job working up her appetite with all those magic spells, one of them must have been for hunger!" you teased, grinning at the way the strikers cheeks blushed.

"don't apologize, it was cute. very cute." you cut her off before she could speak, arms winding around her neck as you looked up at the taller girl with a fond smile, pecking her lips a few times.

"you're really good with her less, and she really likes you. which is why-" you let her go with a small sigh. "i'm giving you once more chance to walk away. if all of this is too much for you, i would understand, and i'd never hold it against you." you promised sincerely taking a little step back.

"honestly?" alessia questioned as you nodded. "honestly."

"well honestly-" the footballer took a step forward clearing the gap you'd just made. "-i am absolutely crazy about both of you, and i'm in, all in. if you'll have me." the girl chewed her bottom lip, apprehension filling her features.

"yeah? "yeah. so..." the girls hands settled themselves on your hips as she paused to take a deep breath, bright blue eyes locked with yours.

"will you be my girlfriend?" "i'd be honoured."

~

"but what do you mean you've not seen man on fire?" alessia scoffed, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at you where she stood in the kitchen awaiting the popcorn to finish.

"exactly that. i've not seen it!" you laughed, having repeated yourself five times now much to the strikers horror each time. "well that simply won't do. we're watching it, its on prime!" the blonde nodded toward the tv.

"but what about anyone but you? babe we were supposed to have a cheesy rom com night!" you protested from the lounge, raising an eyebrow at her as she pulled the popcorn out, opening the bag and yanking her head back as hot air pillowed out.

"change of plans. you need a movie education my girl!" alessia tutted, pouring the popcorn into a bowl as you groaned. "if i knew you were such a film bro it might have changed my answer when you asked me out." you muttered, grabbing the remote none the less.

"hey! i'm not a film bro, i don't even know what that means!" the blonde gasped in offence, grabbing the snacks and moving back to the lounge. "wait! get me a hoodie." you held a hand up after she'd placed the food down and was about to flop herself down on top of you.

"get you a hoodie..." "...now?"

"mother mutant!" alessia rolled her eyes, flicking a piece of popcorn at you but heading off to fulfill your wishes none the less. with bella at her dads for the weekend it meant the two of you could spend some quality time together.

which meant you got your girlfriend to yourself for once without her teaming up with your own daughter against you, the two having become quite the inseparable pair and alessia loving nothing more than teasing you about it.

though as much as she might be a big kid at heart you really couldn't deny the way alessia had stepped up to help you with bella too.

she hadn't missed a single school event since the two of you started going out, a bright smiling face bella always found easily in the crowd when you were often needed backstage given you were a teacher yourself.

she came along to any doctors appointments knowing how nervous they made bella, distracting her with silly voices and made up games while you pretended not to notice the chocolates slipped from her pocket.

there was no good cop bad cop routine either.

at first the blonde did struggle a little to find where she sat with discipline, never doing anything without consulting you or checking in but with time and trust she grew into her own relationship with bella as more than just your special friend.

and her insticts grew too.

you were in alessia's apartment for dinner, pizza night a much loved and somewhat demanded routine every friday night now, and nothing made you melt more than watching how kind and patient alessia was with bella when they cooked together.

you were sat at the island plugging away at your yearly class reports, bopping your head along to the music alessia had floating around the apartment as her and bella prepped.

"mummy what do you want on your pizza!" you felt a tug on your hoodie and looked down, laughing as bella handed you a piece of paper with a bunch of ingredients listed with small tick boxes.

"her idea, i just helped." alessia winked seeing you send her a smile at the little menu. "here." bella handed you a pen as you booped her on the nose with it and ticked off a few things, placing both back into her eager hands.

"thank you!" the girl bowed making you laugh before scurrying off into the kitchen where alessia was waiting. you'd gone back to your laptop, assuming the blonde had everything under control.

"bella no!" was all you heard, looking up to see a blonde blur sprint across the room, scooping up your daughter out of the way as the knife block toppled and they all fell right where she'd been standing.

"i'm sorry! i just wanted to get the tray for you." bella's bottom lip began to wobble as alessia exhaled shakily and sat her up on the counter as you appeared and very carefully picked up the knives.

"hey hey hey no mutant don't cry. i'm sorry for yelling, you just scared me a little bit but i know you didn't mean to." alessia engulfed the girl into a hug, rubbing her back as tiny sniffles sounded and you met the blondes panicked gaze.

"its okay, she's okay. thank you!" you mouthed, nodding reassuringly as alessia sighed, still holding your daughter tightly as her own heart rate steadied itself, trying not to think of what might have happened if she wasn't paying attention.

bella had even signed up for her very first team sport, which of course just so happened to be football.

alessia drove her to and stayed at every single practice, making arrangements with her own team to leave training early every wednesday to do so, and arriving late on saturday mornings so she could be at as many of the games as she could.

though much to her hidden heartbreak bella was following down more of a defensive pathway rather than like the striker alessia had tried tirelessly to build her up to be.

then after around nine months of the two of you dating and not long after alessia had ended her lease and finally moved in, it happened.

you were at one of bella's games, alessia's taller form pressed tightly behind you, both of you wearing a multitude of layers and hugging tightly as the chilly winter frost nipped at your noses.

much to her dismay alessia had wrestled bella into an undershirt, though you could already see how bright red her nose was getting as you prayed she wouldn't get sick.

it had all happened too fast for anyone to really process, bella played in an all girls league but with their opposition short one of the girls brothers was filling in, a year younger but a head taller than all of them.

you knew deep down he hadn't meant to do it, likely only trying to copy one of his footballing idols he'd seen do the same thing every week on tv in the premier league, but still it happened.

bella was dribbling the ball down the right side as everyone else hovered right by her, you and alessia often quietly joking they were like a little pack of seagulls chasing a chip the way they hovered together in a tight little huddle.

but the boy had gone sliding in for the ball, only it was very poorly timed and he collected bella instead, sending her crashing down to the ground as a gasp echoed through the crowd.

your eyes widened and you felt alessia's arms clamp even tighter around you, her own sharp inhale of breath heard right by your ear.

then came the crying, and the yelling, and the same word repeated over and over.

"mama! mama! mama!" you'd gone into fight or flight mode ready to race onto the tiny pitch, but then it clicked, that wasn't you, you were mummy, it wasn't you she was calling for.

"go, less go!" you pulled away from your girlfriend who gave you a confused look. "she's not calling for me, she wants you. go!" you pushed her with a nod, alessia opening and closing her mouth like a stunned fish but stumbling over none the less.

now of course a part of you had been jealous, it was you bella was supposed to want when she was hurt, you who were supposed to comfort her, you were her mother.

but there was a larger part that just felt something much warmer, softer, tinglier. the feeling that now bella had two of you to look out for her, two of you she trusted to comfort her when upset and help bandage her up while hurt.

you were finally a family.