#Pretty girls 28 years old | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidmarieprentiss · 10 days ago

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Depollute Me

Summary: You join the BAU and Spencer is a smitten kitten.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: mentions of morgue details from a case, mentions of struggle from a case, alcohol consumptions

Word count: 7.2k

a/n: lol so this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS i have not read it since then but i feel so bad for never posting anymore so please accept this while i get my life together !!!

Spencer walked into the bullpen on what seemed to be a very typical Monday morning. The hum of chatter and the rhythmic clicking of keyboards filled the air, as it usually did. Without much thought, he placed his well-worn satchel down on his desk, the familiar weight leaving his shoulder as he began his habitual routine. His focus was singular: getting to the breakroom for his morning coffee. The scent of freshly brewed coffee guided him, and within moments, he returned to his desk, ready to dive into the day's work.

As he settled into his chair, Spencer reached for a stack of files when a voice interrupted his concentration. "Reid, did you not notice the new girl?" Morgan's tone was laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement, causing Spencer to pause mid-motion.

“Huh?” Spencer finally looked up, his mind still partially entangled in the tasks he was about to undertake. His routine had been so ingrained that he hadn’t even glanced around the room.

Morgan smirked, nodding towards the far side of the bullpen. "Over by JJ’s office."

Spencer's gaze followed the direction Morgan indicated, and for the first time, he noticed you. A young woman, probably in her mid twenties, was standing near JJ's office, dressed in a sharp, well-tailored pantsuit that hugged her figure in a way that was both professional and undeniably flattering. Your presence was commanding, yet you seemed approachable with an air of confidence.

“Who is that?” Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued as he observed the new arrival with a mixture of intrigue and surprise.

Before Morgan could answer, Hotch, who happened to be walking by at that moment, interjected in his usual calm, authoritative manner. “Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” he informed them, his tone as steady as ever. “She’s from the Sex Crimes Unit, a promising young agent.”

Morgan, ever the one to tease, leaned back in his chair with a playful grin. “Looks like you’re not the baby anymore, pretty boy.”

Spencer, though still focused on the new agent, managed to respond with a slight shrug. “I’m okay with that.” His voice was soft, but there was a hint of relief in his words. Perhaps the idea of no longer being the youngest on the team was a comforting thought.

Hotch, who was moving on to another task, paused briefly to add one more detail, as if to settle any lingering questions. “She’s older than you, Reid. Actually.”

Morgan, not missing a beat, raised an eyebrow. “How old? She looks good,” he remarked, his eyes still on you, appreciating your composed demeanor and striking appearance.

Hotch, always the voice of reason and decorum, shot Morgan a warning look. “Morgan,” he cautioned, before continuing, “she’s 28.”

“I’m almost 28…” Spencer mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, as if to rationalize his place on the team.

“Okay, baby,” Morgan teased, chuckling as he reached over to playfully ruffle Spencer’s hair. The affectionate gesture was a typical part of their dynamic, one that Spencer had grown accustomed to over the years.

Spencer gave a small smile, shaking his head slightly at Morgan's teasing, but his mind was already drifting back to the new agent. There was something about you that intrigued him, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to work alongside you. The idea of no longer being the youngest wasn’t as unsettling as it once might have been.

“Agents, round table, five minutes,” Hotch’s voice cut through the usual hum of activity in the bullpen. The announcement was direct, as always, leaving no room for delay or distraction. Spencer, along with the rest of the team, immediately began to gather their things, each of them accustomed to the rhythm of their work.

As the team filed into the conference room and took their usual seats around the round table, there was an undercurrent of curiosity in the air. Eyes subtly darted towards the new face at the table, though the attempts at being inconspicuous were, in truth, anything but. It was clear that everyone was eager to learn more about the person who would be joining their tight-knit group.

Hotch, standing at the head of the table, wasted no time in addressing the elephant in the room. “As you have all noticed, we have a new member joining the team,” he began, his voice steady as he motioned towards you. “This is Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She’s joining us from Sex Crimes.”

A chorus of greetings filled the room, each team member offering their version of “hello” or “welcome.” Despite the collective effort to make you feel at ease, Spencer couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. His usual reserved nature gave way to an inexplicable fascination with your confident yet soft demeanor. The way you met each person’s eyes with a small, genuine smile only deepened his curiosity.

As Hotch briefed the team, Spencer’s thoughts kept drifting back to you. He noticed how attentively you listened, your calm focus suggesting you were already a step ahead. His mind wandered, wondering about your experiences, your approach, and who you were beyond the BAU walls.

When your eyes briefly met his, Spencer felt a jolt of something unfamiliar. The room seemed to fade as he quickly looked down, warmth creeping up his neck. It was unusual for him to be so distracted during a briefing, but there was something about you that he couldn’t quite place.

As the team dispersed, Spencer hesitated, glancing at you again. He wondered if you had noticed his lapse in concentration, but your calm, professional expression gave nothing away. Now, he couldn’t help but feel both eager and off balance, curious about how you would fit into the team—and what that might mean for him.

—

It was your first away case with the team, and as you boarded the jet, the weight of newness settled on your shoulders. The BAU team moved with the ease of seasoned travelers, each member instinctively knowing their place and routine. You, on the other hand, hesitated, unsure of where to sit, not wanting to take anyone's usual spot and disrupt the unspoken order.

As you stood there, trying to decide, Emily caught your eye and offered you a warm, reassuring smile. "Hey, why don't you sit next to me?" she suggested kindly, patting the seat beside her.

Grateful for her understanding, you nodded and made your way over, sliding into the seat she had saved for you. The small gesture of kindness made the moment feel a little less daunting, easing the nervousness that had been creeping in since you’d learned about the case.

As the team engaged in a lively discussion about the case, you tried to focus on the file in front of you, but a strange sensation crept over you—a shiver that ran down your spine, leaving a trail of unease in its wake. It felt as though someone was watching you, and the thought was impossible to ignore.

Lifting your eyes from the file, you glanced toward the couch on the jet. There he was, Doctor Spencer Reid, as you'd been introduced to him earlier. His gaze was unmistakably fixed on you, a quiet intensity in his eyes that you could feel even from across the cabin. The moment your eyes met, his gaze snapped away, almost too quickly, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

It was curious, to say the least.

—

The team had just settled into the bustling Milwaukee precinct, the air thick with the tension of a new case and the quiet hum of police activity around them. Hotch stood at the center of the room, efficiently handing out assignments with his usual calm authority.

“Reid, Y/L/N, you go to the morgue,” Hotch instructed, his voice steady as he looked between the two of you.

Spencer felt a jolt of nervousness shoot through him at the assignment. The idea of spending time alone with you set his mind racing. His thoughts spiraled through a thousand different scenarios—what he would say, how he would act, whether you would notice his awkwardness. He tried to hide his unease, but the tightening in his chest betrayed how out of sorts he felt.

You, on the other hand, felt a surge of excitement at the prospect. The morgue wasn’t exactly a thrilling destination, but the chance to spend time with Spencer, the quiet and enigmatic doctor, piqued your interest. You’d been curious about him since you joined the team, drawn to the way his mind seemed to work in layers, each one more complex than the last. This was an opportunity to maybe get to know him better, to see beyond the brilliant profiler and into the person behind those thoughtful eyes.

As the two of you gathered your things and prepared to head out, Spencer gave you a small, tentative smile, his nerves still bubbling just beneath the surface. You returned the smile with genuine warmth, hoping to ease the tension you sensed in him.

“Ready to go?” you asked, your tone light and encouraging.

Spencer nodded, his voice just a little tight as he replied, “Yeah, let’s do this.”

As you both made your way out of the precinct, the silence between you was comfortable, filled with the potential of what this small assignment could reveal. For Spencer, it was a chance to navigate the unfamiliar territory of getting to know someone new; for you, it was an exciting step toward understanding the mystery that was Doctor Spencer Reid.

“Do you, um, do you mind driving?” Spencer asked, his voice carrying a slight edge of hesitation as the two of you stood by the car.

You smiled, already finding his nervousness endearing. “No, not at all. Do you not like to drive?” you asked as you unlocked the car.

“I find it helps me focus more on the case if I don’t also have to focus on the road,” he explained, his words coming out in a rush as if he was worried about how you might take it.

You couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Oh, so I don’t need to focus as much as you?” you joked, throwing him a playful glance as you slid into the driver’s seat.

But Spencer, usually taking things quite literally, didn’t catch on to your teasing. His eyes widened slightly as he quickly tried to clarify. “No, no, not at all. I only meant that my mind is so busy all the time, and I—I just, I need to think a lot and—” His words tumbled out, his voice growing a bit more frantic as he tried to explain.

You immediately felt a pang of guilt for having flustered him. “Doctor Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you out,” you said softly, cutting off his rambling. “I was only joking.”

There was a moment of silence, then Spencer took a small breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Spencer,” he corrected gently, his tone more composed now. “You can call me Spencer.”

You smiled, nodding as you started the car. “Alright, Spencer,” you agreed, feeling the ice between you start to melt just a little as you pulled out of the parking lot.

—

The sterile, cold air of the morgue enveloped you both as you walked through the doors, the metallic scent of antiseptic mingling with the faint, almost imperceptible odor of decay. The medical examiner, a middle-aged man with weary eyes, greeted you with a curt nod before leading you to the body you were there to examine.

As the examiner began to explain the preliminary findings, you focused intently on the details, your eyes scanning the body and the evidence laid out on the stainless steel table. Spencer stood beside you, his attention divided between listening to the examiner and observing your reactions.

As the examiner pointed out a series of bruises on the victim’s torso, you leaned in slightly, narrowing your eyes at the pattern. Something about it struck you as odd, but familiar. “These bruises,” you started, gesturing to them, “they’re not random. They look like they could be the result of a struggle, but not just any struggle—these marks here,” you pointed to a specific set, “they’re consistent with someone trying to defend themselves against a chokehold. The position and depth suggest they were made by the victim’s own hands, trying to pry off an attacker.”

The examiner paused, blinking in surprise. “I hadn’t considered that,” he admitted, clearly impressed by your quick assessment.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his curiosity piqued by your insight. He leaned in closer to examine the bruises, following the line of your observation. “You’re right,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and intrigue. “That makes sense, given the angle and the force. It would explain the bruising pattern on the victim’s neck as well.”

He looked up at you, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “That was a good catch,” he said, his tone genuinely appreciative. It wasn’t often that someone impressed him with such a sharp, on-the-spot observation, especially in an area where his own expertise usually dominated.

You smiled back, feeling a warm flush of pride at his acknowledgment. “Thanks, Spencer,” you replied, the use of his first name feeling more natural now, as if that small barrier had already begun to dissolve.

—

As you and Spencer drove back to the precinct, the earlier tension from the morgue had dissipated, leaving behind a more relaxed atmosphere.

“So, Spencer,” you began, glancing over at him with a playful smile, “I have to ask, how did you get so good at noticing the smallest details? I mean, do you practice in your free time? Like, do you just walk around analyzing random people for fun?”

Spencer chuckled softly, clearly amused by the question. “Not exactly,” he replied, his tone light. “It’s more of a habit at this point. I’ve always been observant, even when I was a kid. I guess it just… developed naturally over time.”

You tilted your head, pretending to be impressed. “Naturally, huh? So, it’s like a superpower then? I bet you can tell all kinds of things about a person just by looking at them.”

Spencer smiled, his gaze flickering between you and the road. “It’s not quite that dramatic,” he said, modest as ever. “But, yeah, I can usually pick up on a lot of details that others might miss.”

You decided to push the playful banter a little further. “So, what about me, then? What details have you picked up?” you teased, leaning in slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Spencer blinked, taken aback by the question. He clearly hadn’t expected you to turn the tables on him like that. “Um, well,” he stammered, his mind racing to formulate a response that wouldn’t sound too personal or invasive. “I’ve noticed that you’re very passionate about your work, that you’re observant, and that you care a lot about doing the right thing.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his answer, even though it was far more earnest than you’d intended. “That’s sweet, Spencer,” you said softly. “But I was thinking more along the lines of what color my eyes are, or how you noticed I always play with my jewelry when I’m thinking.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly as he processed your words, clearly not catching on to the flirtatious undertone. “Oh, well, your eyes are a very nice shade of y/e/c,” he said earnestly. “And I did notice that you play with your jewelry sometimes when you’re concentrating. It’s a subconscious gesture, probably something you do without realizing it.”

You bit back a laugh, charmed by his obliviousness. “You really are good, Doctor Reid,” you teased lightly. “But I was just messing with you. I didn’t expect you to take me so seriously.”

Spencer looked over at you, a bit of confusion in his expression, though it quickly gave way to a small, sheepish smile. “Oh… I guess I missed that,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in that endearing way he did when he was flustered.

You grinned, feeling a strange sense of affection for his sincerity. “It’s okay, Spencer. It just means you’re genuine—and I like that.”

As the car pulled into the precinct parking lot, the playful exchange left both of you feeling a little lighter. Spencer might have missed the flirtation, but in the process, you’d managed to break down some of the walls between you, leaving the door open for more conversations, more connections, and maybe, just maybe, something more down the line.

—

Penelope had extended one of her famously warm invitations to the entire team, promising a night of lively conversation, good food, and the kind of camaraderie that only the BAU could understand. Her apartment, as always, was a bright and eclectic haven, filled with quirky decorations, cozy seating areas, and the unmistakable aroma of something delicious wafting from the kitchen.

As the evening wore on, the sound of laughter and animated chatter filled the room. Drinks were poured, stories were shared, and the general atmosphere was one of relaxation and enjoyment. Penelope, ever the gracious host, moved through the crowd like a butterfly, making sure everyone was comfortable and having a good time.

You found yourself in the middle of a conversation with JJ and Emily, the three of you discussing everything from recent cases to more lighthearted topics. Spencer, meanwhile, was across the room, engaged in a deep discussion with Hotch and Rossi. Yet, despite the separate conversations, you couldn’t help but notice how often your gaze drifted toward him—and how, more than once, you caught him glancing back at you.

It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed. As the evening continued, you began to pick up on a subtle undercurrent among the team, a shared look or knowing smile exchanged between your colleagues whenever you and Spencer were in close proximity. It was as if everyone had collectively decided that tonight was the night to push the two of you a little closer together.

“Hey, Y/N,” Emily said, her voice carrying a hint of mischief as she casually steered you toward the couch where Spencer had just sat down. “Why don’t you grab a seat? Looks like there’s plenty of room.”

You shot her a playful glare, fully aware of what she was doing, but you didn’t resist. With a small smile, you took the spot next to Spencer, who glanced up at you with a shy, yet pleased expression.

“Hi, Spencer,” you greeted him, settling into the seat and feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice soft but with a touch of warmth that made you feel at ease. The two of you exchanged a small smile, and for a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background.

Before you could say anything more, Morgan appeared out of nowhere, a wide grin on his face as he handed both you and Spencer a drink. “There you go, pretty boy, Y/N. You two look like you could use a refill,” he said, his tone far too innocent to be sincere.

You accepted the drink with a raised eyebrow. “Thanks, Morgan,” you replied, your tone matching his in playful suspicion. You knew exactly what he was up to, but you decided to play along, taking a sip of your drink as you glanced at Spencer.

Spencer, for his part, seemed slightly oblivious to the team’s not-so-subtle matchmaking attempts, though there was a faint blush on his cheeks as he took his drink from Morgan. “Thanks, Derek,” he mumbled, clearly trying to avoid the knowing look in Morgan’s eyes.

The team's subtle matchmaking efforts became more apparent, each of them playing their part with a touch of mischief. Rossi, always one for a good story, managed to draw you into a conversation about a particularly tricky case the team had solved a few years back.

“So, Y/N,” Rossi began, a twinkle in his eye, “have you ever encountered a case where the suspect used historical ciphers to communicate with their victims?”

You tilted your head, intrigued but knowing exactly where this was going. “No, I have not. Why do you ask?”

Rossi leaned back, gesturing towards Spencer with a grin. “Because our very own Dr. Reid is an expert in ciphers, and I’d bet he could tell you all about the time he cracked one in record time.”

Spencer, who had been quietly listening, perked up at the mention of his expertise. “Oh, well, it wasn’t exactly record time,” he said modestly, but Rossi’s encouragement had already drawn him in. “But it was a fascinating case. The unsub used a modified version of the Zodiac cipher, which was particularly challenging because—”

As Spencer launched into a detailed explanation, you couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly Rossi had managed to pull you both into the conversation. The discussion flowed naturally from there, and you found yourself genuinely interested in Spencer’s insights, occasionally offering your own thoughts, which Spencer seemed to appreciate.

Not long after, Penelope gathered everyone together for a game she had prepared. “Alright, everyone, time for a little fun! We’re playing ‘Celebrity!’” she announced, holding up a bowl filled with slips of paper. “And wouldn’t you know it, Y/N, you and Spencer are on the same team!”

You caught Penelope’s wink as she handed you the bowl, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “What are the odds?” you joked, taking your seat next to Spencer.

Spencer looked a little surprised but quickly smiled, clearly pleased by the arrangement. “I guess we’ll have to work together,” he said, his tone light.

Throughout the game, the team’s delight in pairing the two of you together was obvious, with Emily and Morgan offering exaggerated praise whenever you and Spencer managed to score points. “Great teamwork, you two!” Emily called out with a grin. “It’s like you can read each other’s minds!”

Spencer flushed slightly at the comment, but he seemed to enjoy the playful camaraderie, even if he wasn’t entirely sure why everyone was making such a big deal out of it.

Later, even Hotch joined in on the subtle matchmaking, calling both you and Spencer into the kitchen to help with an entirely unnecessary task. “I need a hand in here,” Hotch said, waving you both over. “This cake isn’t going to cut itself.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the already-cut cake sitting on the counter, but you went along with it, smiling as you grabbed a knife. “Looks like we’ve been drafted,” you quipped.

Spencer smiled awkwardly but followed your lead, picking up a plate. “Yeah, it’s… good to be useful,” he said, his tone a little unsure but genuine.

The two of you worked side by side, the conversation light and easy. You couldn’t help but notice how comfortable it felt to be around him, even in the most mundane tasks. And as you laughed together over something trivial, you caught Hotch’s subtle nod of approval from the corner of your eye.

As the party began to wind down and people started to gather their things to leave, you and Spencer found yourselves standing near the door, alone for the first time that evening. The energy of the night had brought you closer, and the playful encouragement from the team had only served to make that connection feel more natural.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you said, your voice soft as you turned to Spencer.

He looked at you with a gentle smile, his nervousness from earlier in the night long gone. “I did too,” he replied, his tone sincere. “It was nice… spending time with you.”

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest at his words. “I think we make a pretty good team, don’t you?” you teased lightly, echoing Emily’s earlier comment.

Spencer’s smile widened just a little, though he still seemed a bit oblivious to the underlying meaning. “Yeah, I think we do,” he agreed, his eyes meeting yours in a way that felt significant.

There was a brief moment of silence between you, comfortable and filled with possibility. The evening had left you with a sense of warmth, the connection between you and Spencer deepening in ways that felt both unexpected and natural. “Goodnight, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice lingering with a hint of something more, your eyes meeting his in a way that made the simple farewell feel like it carried more weight.

Spencer hesitated for a second, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes before he spoke. “Can I, um, can I drive you home?” he asked, his tone a little shy but hopeful, as if he wasn’t quite sure if it was okay to ask.

You blinked in surprise, then remembered that you had seen him with a drink earlier in the evening. “You were drinking too, Spencer,” you pointed out gently, not wanting to put him in an uncomfortable position.

Spencer’s lips quirked up in a small smile as he shook his head. “I don’t drink alcohol,” he explained, his voice calm and reassuring. “They were nonalcoholic.”

You felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth, warmth spreading through you at his thoughtfulness. “Oh, well in that case,” you said, your voice softening as you looked at him, “I’d really like that.”

His eyes brightened at your response, and he gave a small, almost relieved nod. “Great,” he said, the awkwardness from earlier replaced by a quiet confidence. “Let me just grab my keys.”

As you waited for him, you couldn’t help but feel that this simple offer—this small, thoughtful gesture—was a sign of something more, something that might grow between you. And as the two of you walked out together, the night air cool against your skin, you found yourself looking forward to the drive, and to whatever might come next.

—

While guests began to filter out of Penelope's apartment, Hotch and Rossi found themselves lingering in the cozy living room, the buzz of the evening winding down. The two men exchanged a glance as they noticed you and Spencer leaving together, Spencer opening the car door for you with his usual quiet charm.

Rossi chuckled softly, taking a sip of his drink as he watched the scene unfold. “You know, Aaron,” he began, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I think those two might just be good for each other.”

Hotch followed Rossi’s gaze a small, rare smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, his tone thoughtful. “They would make a nice pair.”

Rossi nodded, setting his glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Spencer needs someone like Y/N—someone patient, who sees the world a little differently, but isn’t afraid to challenge him.”

Hotch tilted his head slightly, considering Rossi’s words. “And anyone could use someone like Spencer,” he added.

Rossi smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “It’s not often you see something like that—a connection that just feels… natural.”

Hotch chuckled softly, a sound that was more a breath than a laugh. “It’s about time Spencer found someone who really gets him.”

Rossi raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “And maybe someone who can keep up with that brain of his.”

Hotch’s smile grew a little wider at that. “She’s got her work cut out for her, then.”

They shared a knowing look, they’d both be quietly rooting for you and Spencer.

—

As Spencer opened the car door for you, you slid into the passenger seat with a smile, appreciating the small but considerate gesture. He walked around to the driver’s side and settled in, adjusting the mirrors and checking the controls with his usual meticulousness. The quiet hum of the engine filled the space as he started the car, and soon enough, you were on the road, the city lights passing by in a soft blur.

For a few moments, the two of you were content with the silence, letting the calm of the evening settle over you. But then, curiosity got the better of you, and you turned slightly in your seat to look at Spencer, your gaze soft but inquisitive.

“So, Spencer,” you began, your tone light, “you don’t drink alcohol at all? Or just not tonight?”

Spencer glanced over at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not at all, actually,” he admitted. “I’ve never really liked the way it makes me feel. Plus, it’s kind of a personal choice—helps me stay sharp, especially with work.”

You nodded, finding that very much in line with what you’d learned about him so far. “That makes sense,” you replied, your voice warm. “I can see how that would be important for you. You always seem so… focused.”

Spencer chuckled softly, a touch of bashfulness in his tone. “I try to be,” he said. “But it’s not always easy. My mind tends to wander a lot.”

You smiled at that, sensing an opportunity to tease him just a little. “Wander? You? I would’ve never guessed,” you said with playful exaggeration, giving him a sideways glance.

He laughed, the sound quiet but genuine. “Yeah, well, it happens more often than you’d think. Especially when I’m trying to solve a problem or figure something out. My brain just… runs in all these different directions.”

“I’d love to see that in action,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. When you realized how it might sound, you quickly added, “I mean, it must be fascinating to see how your mind works.”

Spencer glanced at you again, this time with a slightly more serious expression, though there was still a hint of that shy smile. “I guess I’ve just always been wired that way. It’s part of why I love what I do. But it can be… isolating sometimes, you know? People don’t always get it.”

You nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well. “Yeah, I can relate to that,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “I think a lot of us in this line of work feel that way at times. It’s hard for people outside of it to really understand what we go through, what we see.”

There was a moment of shared silence, both of you reflecting on what you’d said. Then, wanting to lighten the mood a bit, you turned the conversation back to something a little more playful.

“So, what do you do for fun, Spencer? When you’re not solving crimes and noticing everything that no one else does?” you asked with a teasing lilt to your voice.

Spencer seemed to relax a bit more, the serious tone easing as he thought about your question. “Well,” he began, “I like to read, obviously. I’m a bit of a collector when it comes to rare books. And, um, I also enjoy magic tricks.”

“Magic tricks?” you repeated, intrigued and a little surprised. “I didn’t expect that.”

Spencer smiled, the warmth in his expression growing. “Yeah, I picked it up as a kid. It’s something that stuck with me. I guess I like the challenge of it—figuring out how to manipulate perception, how to create something that seems impossible.”

You leaned in a little, genuinely fascinated. “That’s actually really cool. You’ll have to show me a trick sometime.”

He glanced at you, a spark of excitement in his eyes at the idea. “I’d like that,” he said simply.

As the conversation continued, the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, exchanging stories and little details about your lives. You learned that Spencer had an insatiable curiosity for nearly everything, and that he was just as eager to hear about your interests and experiences. There were moments of gentle teasing, of light laughter, and as the night wore on, it felt as though the distance between you was closing, replaced by a budding connection that was both comfortable and exciting.

By the time Spencer pulled up in front of your place, you felt like you’d gotten to know him in a way that few probably had—a glimpse beneath the layers of the brilliant, sometimes awkward genius to the kind, thoughtful person underneath.

“Thank you for the ride, Spencer,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt, turning to face him. “And for the conversation. I really enjoyed tonight.”

Spencer’s smile was warm, and this time, there was a hint of confidence in it. “I did too,” he replied, his voice soft. “Maybe we could do it again sometime?”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the suggestion, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d like that,” you said, letting the sincerity of your words hang in the air for a moment.

With one last smile, you stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing your skin as you walked to your door. Glancing back, you caught Spencer’s eyes; he gave a shy wave before driving off without hesitation. As you unlocked your door, it struck you—you’d never met a man who didn’t try to make a move in such a moment.

It was refreshing, and his sincerity left you smiling. There was something deeply endearing about how content he seemed just to share your company. As you settled in for the night, a warm feeling lingered.

—

Monday morning arrived with the usual hum of activity in the bullpen, but there was a new kind of energy in the air—one that had you exchanging sweet, shy glances with Spencer across the room. Every time your eyes met, it was like a quiet acknowledgment of the evening you had shared, a soft connection that lingered between you.

As you settled into your desk, organizing your files and preparing for the day ahead, you were pleasantly surprised when Spencer walked by, gently placing a mug of coffee on your desk. The familiar aroma wafted up, and you immediately recognized it as your favorite blend, made just the way you liked it.

“Spencer… thank you,” you said softly, picking up the mug and taking a tentative sip. It was perfect, just as you expected. You looked up at him, curiosity tinged with warmth in your eyes. “How did you know?”

Spencer’s lips curled into a small, almost bashful smile, his hands fidgeting slightly. “I pay attention,” he replied simply, his voice just above a whisper, as if the words held more meaning than they seemed.

Your heart fluttered at his response, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. There was something incredibly endearing about how Spencer had noticed something so small, yet so personal. It wasn’t just the coffee—it was the care and thoughtfulness behind the gesture that made your heart skip a beat.

Smitten might have been an understatement for how you felt in that moment. You held his gaze for a moment longer, the unspoken understanding between you growing stronger with each passing second.

“Thank you,” you repeated, your voice soft and full of appreciation.

Spencer gave a quick, shy nod before retreating to his desk, his own heart racing from the brief but meaningful exchange.

—

Wednesday morning, you made your way to Spencer’s desk. In your hand, you held a donut topped with colorful sprinkles, a small token of your growing affection.

Reaching Spencer’s desk, you gently placed the donut in front of him, your hand brushing against his arm ever so slightly. The brief contact sent a spark through you, a tiny thrill that lingered as you stepped back.

Spencer looked up, surprise flickering across his face before it softened into a smile. “Y/N? Thank you,” he said, his voice tinged with both gratitude and a hint of that shyness you found so endearing.

You smiled back, your eyes meeting his. “A sweet treat for a sweet man,” you replied, your tone light yet full of sincerity.

For a moment, Spencer just stared at you, his cheeks flushing slightly as he took in your words. It wasn’t often that he received compliments like that, especially not from someone who meant as much to him as you were beginning to.

“Thank you,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were trying to savor the moment.

You gave him a soft smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his reaction. It was such a small gesture, but the way he looked at you made it feel like so much more. As you walked back to your desk, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, catching him as he carefully picked up the donut, a faint smile playing on his lips.

—

“I think I’m going to ask her on a date,” Spencer said, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and nervousness as he spoke to Penelope in the breakroom.

“Y/N?” Penelope’s eyes lit up with excitement, a grin spreading across her face. She had been hoping for this moment for a while now.

Spencer paused for a moment, then, with a rare touch of humor, he replied, “No, Emily.”

Penelope blinked, caught off guard by his response, before quickly catching on to his teasing. She narrowed her eyes playfully at him, placing a hand on her hip. “I don’t think that would go over well, my love.”

Spencer couldn’t help but smile, feeling a bit more at ease with the banter. “Y/N or Emily?” he asked, his tone just as playful, though there was a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

Penelope laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think Y/N or Emily would take well to you asking Emily on a date,” she said, her voice softening. “But, Y/n would be over the moon if you asked her out, Spencer. Trust me.”

Spencer nodded, a bit more confidence building inside him as he imagined what it might be like to take that step. “Yeah,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Penelope. “I think you’re right.”

Penelope gave him an encouraging smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement for her friend. “Go get her, Reid,” she said gently, patting his arm. “You’ve got this.”

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling both the weight and the thrill of the decision he was about to make. “Thanks, Penelope,” he said, giving her a grateful look before heading back to his desk, his mind now focused on how he was going to ask you out.

—

You stood in front of the elevator, the thought of a relaxing Friday evening at home making you eager to get out of the office. Your couch was practically calling your name, promising comfort after a long week. Just as the elevator doors began to slide open, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Y/N, wait up!”

You turned with a smile, spotting Spencer hurrying toward you. “I’m not moving, Spencer,” you giggled, teasing him lightly. “I’m waiting for the elevator.”

“Right… right,” he stammered, laughing awkwardly as he reached you, his hand instinctively going to the back of his neck, a gesture you had come to find endearing.

“What's up, weirdo?” you asked, still smiling as you watched him struggle to find his words.

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with determination and nervousness. “Will you go out with me?” he blurted out, the words tumbling out faster than he intended.

You didn’t hesitate for even a second. “Yes.”

Spencer blinked, clearly caught off guard by how quickly you responded. “I don’t want to make things awkward, but I love spending time with you and—wait, what?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, his genuine surprise making the moment even sweeter. “I said yes, Spencer,” you repeated, your voice warm and reassuring.

Spencer’s eyes widened, a mixture of relief and joy flooding his expression. “You did? I mean, you did!” he stammered, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Wow, okay… this is great!”

The elevator doors opened just as he finished speaking, and you both stepped inside, the excitement of the moment bubbling between you. As the doors closed, Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, and neither could you.

“So, where are we going?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him as the elevator began its descent.

Spencer glanced at you, his smile softening into something more tender. “Anywhere you want,” he said quietly.

—

The evening unfolded exactly as you had hoped, with one delightful twist. You and Spencer ended up on your couch, both of you dressed in comfortable pajamas, a warm pizza box resting on the coffee table in front of you. The aroma of melted cheese and spices filled the room, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

Spencer was leaning back into the cushions, a slice of pizza in hand, his long legs stretched out comfortably. You were nestled beside him, your feet tucked under a soft blanket, feeling utterly content. It was the relaxing Friday evening you had been craving, only now it was even better with Spencer there beside you.

“This is nice,” Spencer said softly, breaking the comfortable silence as he took another bite of his pizza.

You glanced over at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “It really is,” you agreed, reaching for your own slice. “Exactly what I needed after this week.”

He looked at you, his eyes warm and a little shy, as if he couldn’t quite believe that this was happening. “I can’t believe this is what you wanted to do tonight,” he admitted, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “But I’m really glad it is.”

You laughed softly, nudging him with your elbow. “Spencer, this is perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted—good food, good company, and no pressure to do anything but relax.”

He smiled at that, clearly relieved and happy. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, his voice gentle as he looked at you with that familiar, earnest gaze.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed easily between bites of pizza and sips of soda. You talked about everything and nothing—cases, hobbies, favorite books, and the little things that made each of you laugh. It felt natural, effortless, like this was where you both were meant to be.

Eventually, you found yourself leaning into Spencer’s side, your head resting on his shoulder as you both watched the TV, a movie playing softly in the background. He wrapped his arm around you, his touch light and careful, as if he were still marveling at how right this felt.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you. It was the relaxing Friday evening you had wanted, with the added bonus of the guy you wanted right there with you. As you snuggled closer, a contented sigh escaped your lips.

This was perfect.

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

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jensettermandu · 10 months ago

Text

birthday wish - jennie kim

genre; smut, slight angst, fluff, smut with some plot

pairing; jennie x g!p reader

content; breeding kink, oral (reader giving), spanking, rough sex, degrading, humiliation, creampie (?), brattiness, probably missed something

synopsis; it's her birthday and she only has one wish

wc; 17k+

masterlist

a/n: this was written in two days, sorry if it is not up to standard with my usual writing. i forgot about the bday since i don't usually write for anything special for them

Loud music, drinks (many free ones), dancing, and partying in a way she hadn’t been able to do in a couple of months. She was finally able to party like a teen which had been hard. Jennie had turned 28 and was reaching her peak yet at some point everything had turned sour and bitter in her life. It wasn’t unusual, things would always go up and down and she was old enough to accept it.

What was a lot harder to accept was the break-up she had with her ex-girlfriend about four months ago. The concept of not being good for each other, that loving wasn’t enough if they brought out these bad sides of jealousy, possessiveness, and the fights it would cause. It was a tough fall to break up with someone who she had started seeing when she was in her early 20s–22 to be exact and broken up with later on. That was someone she had spent half of her tweenies with.

That person who she had been at a peak with, who always made her feel like a teen in love. Who flew her through the sky, into a new universe and now had her crash back down to earth after a high that lasted for five years. Five years had been bumpy, but it didn’t matter if they had been trying all the time. There was only so long they could go off of feeling like teens when they were adults. At some point the fun had to be limited, or did it have to be? Did she have to grow up?

It was her Birthday.

Jennie and her friends had pre-gamed before they went bar hopping.

The idea?

They couldn’t wait for Jennie to get laid now that she was over her ex-girlfriend who they liked to call an asshole. Jennie would argue about that because she wasn’t an asshole. She just loved too hard and so did Jennie. An asshole wouldn’t be able to give Jennie the best years of her life despite having many more to come, nor would an asshole be able to give her mind-blowing sex.

The sex.

Jennie had found herself horny for the past month.

Jennie had found herself pathetically wasting money on sex toys that sufficed for the moment, but not long term.

All that, but she hadn’t been able to go out and meet someone to hook up with.

She was scared she would get disappointed and feel like only one person could satisfy her truly.

The woman wasn’t supposed to be running back to her ex after crying for two months straight, and then managing to slowly start functioning normally on the third and now was the fourth and she was out partying–looking to get laid and fully forget her ex by finding someone who could fuck her good enough.

Fuck it out of her mind, leave her memories a blur.

It was the third place they had been to.

“Anyone hot yet? We’re not leaving until you leave first because you’re going to drop your panties for a stranger.” Lisa was right by her ear as she spoke, shot still in her hand as the dozen girlfriends that Jennie was with had just been served another round.

“You have to lose your post-breakup virginity, babe.” Jisoo came from the other side and spoke into her ear, making Jennie giggle at the slurred words of the drunk woman.

“I’m literally on it, I’ve been standing and looking pretty the whole night,” Jennie argued as she wasn’t the one to walk up to someone.

“To sex!” Lisa’s words earned squeals and shouts from the other girls, Jennie drowned herself in yet another shot. Her world was slowly starting to spin, knowing that in three more shots, she would be perfectly drunk. That type that left her euphoric and not blackout drunk.

“I will be back.” Jennie found herself making it to the bathrooms, there was no line fortunately for her as she walked in. The music was still making her body vibrate despite being muffled in the bathroom that was filled with the chatter of girls in the cubicles and by the sink.

She was trying her best, but it was difficult to just throw herself back out there. There were plenty of fish in the sea, but the deep waters would always be scary and she had just managed to dip herself in it.

She reached into her purse after finishing her quick business as her phone had started to buzz. Her eyes squinted to read the texts that were a tinge blurry, all she could tell was that they were from her friends who had spammed the group chat and made it hard to understand what the topic was or why they were texting incoherent words to begin with.

“Jesus!” Jennie exclaimed at the bang that came on her door, making her shut her phone off right away. Her heart jumped at how scared she got and she planted her hand against the door for safety even if there were other people in the bathroom.

“Knock knock.” Her heart jumped much higher now.

“Y/n?” She questioned the voice that was all too familiar and made her whole body feel like jelly from the second she heard it.

“Hey, sexy.”

“No, definitely not, Y/n–get the fuck away from me.” It was like a disease if Y/n touched her. She would get infected right away.

Fun fact: Jennie lied to her friends when she said that she was over Y/n.

“Happy Birthday, Jen–”

“Please, we’re over, I do not want to see you and you know it, Y/n.” Jennie was desperate for the girl to leave. Her night had been perfect and now that Y/n had appeared from nowhere, she knew what mistakes she would make and how the night would get better because she missed Y/n. The easiest fish to catch for Y/n was Jennie, she reeled her in with ease.

It never was a messy breakup as they agreed on it, but it still took a toll because despite knowing that they at times were no good for each other, they still loved strongly. They loved each other stronger than anyone else, even their families didn't get that kind of love and Jennie loved her mother dearly. Which also made it an easy decision that was hard to go through with.

“Do I? I know that I want to see you, Jennie. I am quite sure you want to see me too.” Jennie heaved a sigh, staring at the stall door while fighting all these urges. She wanted to convince herself that she would stand in this cubicle until her death just to avoid Y/n. That if she walked out of it she would walk right past her and not look back because they were supposed to be looking at their future.

This was the woman Jennie had planned a future with.

She would let Y/n spit that addicting poison right back into her mouth, there were still remnants of it left as she hadn’t moved on.

She unlocked the cubicle.

God, Jennie was weak, as in literally and metaphorically.

Y/n blocked the way as she stepped inside the cubicle and closed it before locking it too. She leaned back against the door and her eyes took in Jennie to the fullest.

The brunette widened her eyes and looked up at the girl who was younger by a few months as she had that usual enigmatic smile that always made Jennie curious about what she was thinking. That always drew Jennie in and made her cling to her and ask about it all, the answers were always the best. Her face was still as perfect as when they met, those eyes that would always gaze with adoration, perfectly plump lips, upturned nose, her slim figure, and all that Jennie always was attracted to when it came to her looks. Although, it had always been far more than just her looks that Jennie was attracted to.

“Sexy was no joke–” Y/n stopped talking, realising that she hadn’t seen her in four months after seeing each other every day for the past five years and living together for the past three and a half. The cubicle was getting Jennie’s scent trapped, the one that made it possible to sleep at night and Y/n had to spray her sheets with it unless she wanted more sleepless nights. The woman was dressed simply yet she made it look complicated with her beauty, a backless top, and black cargos, her figure shown off. Black had always been her colour and Y/n had always loved her in black, from clothes to lingerie.

Neither of them was over the other.

“Y/n.” Jennie said and her hands came up to plant themselves against Y/n's stomach when she stepped closer. Y/n smiled, her hand brushing over Jennie’s bare arm and it was enough to send shocks of familiarity and longing through the kitten's whole body. It was like it was shaking her from how electric it was, it was as if her body was charged right back up and coming back to life.

She sighed and suddenly took the few steps back that were needed for her back to touch the stall and make her somewhat squirm at how cold it was against her shoulder blades. It was overwhelming to have Y/n so close to her, their eyes stuck right together, those emotions of longing, and sadness, yet so much happiness at the back of it all of seeing one another again.

“It was so different waking up today with an empty bed and no Jennie to spoil from morning to night—it was more than an empty bed.” Y/n’s tone fell, one that was loud enough just for Jennie to hear. The slender fingers reached up to the face that held home on it, fingers running along Jennie’s jaw. It was still the same woman, the one Y/n fell in love with.

This was so bad for the Jennie who had lied about moving on.

This was so good for the Jennie who never wanted to move on.

Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand and removed it from her face, although she didn’t let go of it. It felt too good to hold her again. “How did you know I would be here? You weren’t looking for me, were you?” A sly and cheeky smile graced Y/n’s lips at the question. Out of the whole nightlife of Seoul she still somehow managed to run into her. It was the popular area in Gangnam, one they used to head to all the time, but still.

“No, not much better to do on weekends than to go out with friends now that I don’t have you. I knew it was your birthday, so all I did was hope that you would show up at this club at some point.” She had hoped she would at least catch a glimpse of her. It was shot in the dark as Seoul was big and it had been hours since they went out, but all she did was hope that Jennie would head out for her birthday–hopefully without anyone new.

“I’ve missed you–a lot.” Y/n was the first to admit it, her fingers intertwined with Jennie’s as she had never let go of her hand. She raised it before pinning it beside her head, taking that small step that left them dangerously close to each other. Jennie gripped Y/n’s black sweatshirt, unsure if she wanted to push her away or drag her closer.

“I’ve missed you too.” There wasn’t a single nerve in her body that could make her hold back on those words. Jennie looked down at Y/n’s lips as she had licked them. God knew how much she had missed her. It couldn't have been healthy. It made Jennie act out in way she hadn't done before. It made her feel crazy.

“Are you here with someone?” Y/n knew the question could have many answers, she was praying for one that didn’t involve someone who had replaced her. Could anyone replace her?

“With–” The answer came before Jennie could utter it herself.

“Jennie?” It was Jisoo.

Followed by Lisa. “Are you here?”

“You think she just left?” Chaeyoung questioned.

“Check the stalls?”

The two looked at each other. It would be bad news for Jennie if she was seen with Y/n in the same cubicle right now. There was no way she would be able to explain herself and even if she would be able to–was it bad that she didn’t want to leave just yet? Maybe the best gift she could have received on her birthday was to fill that hole that had been left after an important part of her life had left. Even for one night.

Their silent communication worked wonders still after being away for four months. Y/n stepped back, grabbing hold of the top of the stall as she got on top of the toilet seat while helping Jennie up by pulling her by her hand. The two somehow managed to squeeze on that seat, holding onto one another to not fall.

Even if it was just for a night, it would still make it another memorable birthday.

Jennie didn’t have to tell her friends about it.

“I swear to God if she left with her.” The two looked at each other at what Chaeyoung said.

“Are you sure it was Y/n?”

“Yes, I could recognise that little shithead from miles away.”

“What did you tell them–” Jennie covered Y/n’s mouth so they wouldn’t be heard by accident. It was baffling to the girl to hear Chaeyoung talk about her like that. Had they both agreed to a breakup if Jennie had talked bad about Y/n to relieve her gloom and anger?

“She’s over her.”

“Who knows anymore? It’s like she’s someone completely different without her and it’s not even in a good way.” Y/n’s eyes softened at the words that left Jisoo and Jennie hid her face in her arm as she was still covering Y/n’s mouth.

“Maybe she found a hookup and forgot to text–just send another message because she’s not here.”

The two waited for a good minute before they climbed down the toilet seat and Jennie opened her phone to see the text in the group chat. This time she scrolled up to see that they were all saying how Y/n was at the bar and they were waiting for Jennie so they could leave for a new one. She decided to text them about finding a hookup.

“What did you tell them to hate me so much?” Y/n questioned again and Jennie put her phone away.

“I was pissed okay–cut me some slack if you were the one to walk out the door,” Jennie grumbled and opened the stall as she walked out of it at last. Y/n followed right after her, picking up in her pace as the shorter girl took quick steps until she got to the countertop with the sinks.

“Hey, hey, I thought it was a mutual agreement to break up.” Now Y/n was confused because despite it feeling almost impossible to leave they agreed on it. She thought they both left with the same intentions and the same mindset. They loved each other, but at times it felt like they did love too much and it held them back.

“Yeah, it felt like I had no other choice but to agree when you suggested that we break up.” Jennie had tried to force that mindset on herself, to be on the same page because she knew what the problem was of being together and still living in the past. They needed to grow up. It was stupid, she did want to grow up, but she didn’t want to grow apart. It caused her temporary depression, anger, and frustrations which she took out by bad-mouthing Y/n to her friends. It hurt her to see the woman she had spent five years with just walk out the door as if Jennie hadn’t been a major part of her life.

“Are you angry at me because you didn’t tell me how you felt?”

“Yes, I am because what would it change if I said no? I thought you knew me well enough to understand that I didn’t want any of this, Y/n.” The latter was in disbelief at the words as she stood behind Jennie who was furiously washing her hands. It went quiet between the two of them, the only thing filling the silence was the muffled music and chatter of people around them. No one around them mattered though, they never did when they were together. It was like they were in a different world with each other.

Jennie stopped and held onto the counter, a frown on her face as she looked at Y/n through the mirror. She felt like a fool for being the only one, for thinking that Y/n would be able to read her mind. She knew that it was her fault too because it had been a suggestion and she agreed when she felt like there was no other choice. There was a reason why she had suggested it and Jennie knew that it was valid. She just didn’t want to go through with it and stupidly expected for Y/n to read her mind like some idiot.

“Come on.” Y/n didn’t answer the question. She couldn’t answer it because she didn’t want to hurt Jennie by making her realise the time they wasted away from each other. Y/n would have stayed. She only suggested what she thought would benefit them both, it did in one way as it let them realise what they truly needed.

They needed each other.

She grabbed her hand and Jennie was led through the club. She just let her steal her away. It was how they met and she would always let Y/n drag her anywhere like the first time they met at a party where Y/n dragged her away from it only to give her the most memorable night of her life by showing her how to let go.

“Jacket, why do you not have a jacket?” Y/n questioned as they stepped out of the bar and were met by the cold night of January with snow lying around.

“I left it in the car we came in.” Y/n shook her head while exhaling through her nose and removing the oversized leather jacket she had on.

“You’re being stupid–What’re you even planning to do?” Jennie questioned, Y/n was now left in the black loose sweatshirt as she moved behind Jennie. The girl looked back while putting her arms through the sleeves. She was confused, but she couldn’t just walk away. She had no idea what Y/n was planning on doing. They weren’t together, they were supposed to live their own lives, and she had no clue why she had stayed. What was the plan if they were broken up?

“It would feel wrong to run into you and not give you a gift on your birthday,” Y/n argued, coming back around and bending her knees slightly to grab the ends of the jacket to zip it up. Jennie was drowning in the warmth that Y/n had left after her together with the scent that she wanted to bury her face in. It felt like she would maybe regret it afterwards because she was quite sure they would go back to their new lives right after parting ways again. It would feel like the break-up all over again.

“I do not expect anything from you if we aren’t toge–” Y/n didn’t seem to listen to Jennie when she grabbed her hand and made her walk beside her. She didn’t hold her hand like they always used to do, but her palm rested against Jennie’s lower back to make sure that she wasn’t getting lost anywhere.

It was crowded with people, they were flooding from everywhere and Y/n kept walking without a stop. She was stuck with her gaze on Y/n who looked down at her with a small smile. It was enough to make Jennie’s world blind and her heart bounce in a familiar beat. Had she just broken Jennie’s walls down once again, but even quicker than she did the first time? It was frustrating. She let Y/n in so easily when she should lock her out, put up millions of walls, higher than the sky, with no way in or out.

“Y/n?”

There was so much she could tell her right now and she couldn’t tell how Y/n would respond to any of it.

“I know it’s a lot to ask for after everything, but could you do one thing for me, Jennie? To just forget everything for two hours, three tops.” Y/n interrupted all the questions Jennie would like to ask. She felt horrible to know the truth that they both agreed to something they thought the other wanted. Y/n never wanted to break up with her, but neither did she want to be an obstacle in Jennie’s life. The stupid little fights they had still hurt them both, the last thing Y/n ever wanted was to hurt Jennie, but she still somehow did.

She knew that she should have known, and maybe she did at the back of her head since she had known Jennie for over five years. Things sometimes just didn’t go as planned.

It wasn’t hard to forget when she was with her again. Y/n made everything bad go away.

“Fine, Y/n,” she still trusted her with her life. She'd jump right back into those deep waters where her only safety was Y/n.

“Okay, sit down right here and do not run away,” Y/n said after they had entered a convenience store. She pulled the stool out and guided Jennie to sit on it who was still busy figuring out what the girl was doing and why they had to pass so many other stores and stop at this one. With no other choice, Jennie sat and only glanced back at Y/n who disappeared between the shelves. There was slight anticipation growing in her the whole time, she stayed fiddling with her fingers as she rested her hands atop the table.

She stopped for a moment, grabbed the collar of the jacket that was oversized and pulled it up to her nose. The scent had washed off of her clothes at home, the clothes Y/n had left behind had been worn to where the scent no longer lingered on them and she had to wash them. It made Jennie curious how Y/n went through it.

Had she also been pathetically looking through endless photos in her gallery?

Drowned herself in Jennie’s scent?

Had Y/n finished the season finale of the series they had been watching together, but broke up right when the finale came out. Jennie had been waiting even if they weren’t together and would never get to know the end.

Had she been dwelling in all their plans for the future that now only was a past?

Had she been hurting just as much?

Jennie heaved a sigh and let go of the collar, reaching her hands up to her eyes as she knew that she wasn’t over Y/n. She was holding on, she was even out with Y/n even if it would feel like the break up all over again once Y/n would leave. Her fingers gently patted away the wetness that had warmed in her eyes. How did she let go of something that was securing her from falling off the ride?

It was time to stop dwelling when Y/n sat down right beside her on the vacant stool.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” The girl sucked air through her teeth and quickly put the noodle bowl down that was steaming. Jennie looked at what more she somehow managed to carry when she leaned over and dropped the things on the table.

“Since I am no chef, this is the best I could do and the ramen is how you like it.” She started while taking the ice cup and opening it. Jennie slid it over to herself and peeled off the lid fully. It was just ramen with Y/n making it fancier and better by adding more toppings; Jennie was desperate as she could never get it right since Y/n always made it for her the way Jennie loved it. It was just instant ramen, but it was her comfort food which hadn’t been the comfort she had been looking for. It would somehow suffice for now.

“Thanks.” She was a bit more than thankful, but she wasn’t sure how else she should thank her.

“Don’t thank me, it’s your birthday.” Jennie chuckled at that as she grabbed the chopsticks and looked at Y/n who poured the mango-flavoured iced tea into the cup with ice.

“Very thoughtful to drag me to a convenience store.” Y/n shook her head and picked up the cup, taking two big gulps before placing it back down.

“Yeah, God forbid I drag you to a fancy restaurant–don’t worry though…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie moved back slightly when she reached over to her. She smiled at Jennie, her face just a few inches away from Jennie’s as she reached over to the other side. Y/n’s hand reached into the right pocket of her jacket that Jennie had on while sitting on her left.

Jennie wasn’t sure what she wanted when Y/n was so close to her. One thing she was certain of was that she missed all of Y/n’s loving and caring touches, the ones that always touched her soul. Jennie missed being held in her arms, falling asleep with them around her. She missed the safety, the security that came from being in them, and the feeling of not having to be afraid to be herself because she trusted Y/n so much.

She grabbed what she was looking for with a sly grin as she pulled away. “If you celebrate, you have to celebrate right, don’t you?” Y/n let out in a more hushed tone that was still honeyed and Jennie could listen to her talking all day. That was something she had done because Y/n always had something to talk about.

The kitten parted her lips at the flask Y/n had taken out of her pocket, taking the cup down and placing it between her thighs. “Since when do you carry a flask around?” Jennie questioned, the last time she had seen Y/n with one was when they were still in college. It kind of worried her that maybe the girl had started drinking. Y/n let out a breathless chuckle, unscrewing the steel flask before filling the iced tea back up to the brim, but this time with tequila.

“Only today.” She reassured Jennie and lolled her head to the side to look at Jennie. That smile did not leave as she put the lock on, the flask back in the left pocket instead and she put the straw through the lock before mixing it up.

Jennie rolled her eyes as she, at last, started to eat the instant ramen that tasted better than most things she had ever eaten simply because it was made by Y/n. It also was something that killed all her cravings that were caused by the alcohol and food had simply never tasted better. Y/n always knew just what Jennie needed by looking at her. Yet she had somehow missed how Jennie never truly wanted to part ways.

“Just don’t inhale everything, I want a bite before you do.” Y/n laughed when Jennie elbowed her, making Y/n squirm away. “God, you’re rude.”

“Stop being a little piece of shit, Y/n.” Jennie seriously said and looked at Y/n who was already looking at her through her lashes with the straw in her mouth. “Not cute.”

“I tried.” Y/n said in defeat and handed the large plastic cup to Jennie who slid the ramen over to her with the chopsticks. “Oh, my bite is gonna come with extra flavours since there are Jennie germs in it.” Jennie hurt her throat when she swallowed the lump of iced tea with tequila before she could spit it out because she felt that huff before she giggled.

“Stop acting imbecilic.”

“Imbecilic, big words for a 28-year-old. I can say that I’m proud of you.” Jennie rolled her eyes and watched Y/n slurp up a bite of noodles with a hum after. “So good–”

“Don’t.” Jennie stopped her before she could say something stupid again and pulled the ramen back to herself. It was all coming right back, just being with Y/n for a few minutes, starting a conversation, and she was reminded all again why she loved her so much. How she made her feel so good about herself, how she cut Jennie slack by being herself which let Jennie drop all her guards down right away and be herself too. How she was back to feeling ten years younger and like she could just be herself for the night or whenever she got back home to Y/n–used to.

“Here, the monster is coming for your mouth, Jennie.”

“You did not just say that out loud Y/n.” Jennie giggled, the younger girl holding the gimbap and guiding it towards her mouth as it was still in one piece. Y/n gasped and looked at Jennie in disbelief. “Ew, why are you being dirty-minded, Jen.” She slapped Y/n’s shoulder, her cheeks hurting from how much she had been smiling and giggling. It didn’t matter if Y/n had asked her to forget everything for a few hours, Y/n automatically made her forget everything.

“You are, I didn’t say that I had something dirty in mind.” She defended herself. The two did not care about the rest of the people who went in and out of the store, or the people passing by the window. The radio played the most recent K-pop songs to fill the store, but all they could focus on were each other's words, giggles, and stares which were numbing all the pain.

Y/n grinned and shot her eyebrows up in a manner that suggested that the next words to leave her mouth would be far from appropriate as she still held the gimbap up ready to feed the feline. “Well, you can surely open wide enough for it to fit–” Y/n squeaked at the pain when Jennie this time hit her thigh, hitting a nerve because the pain made her hunch over.

“Not fitting at all.” Y/n chuckled at the words that came from Jennie and she looked up at her as she was still hunched over. “Is the joke not fitting or the gimbap?” Jennie groaned at that and Y/n sat up straight.

“Okay, here comes the train–Better?” Y/n asked.

Jennie hummed and opened her mouth as Y/n went back to trying to feed her a bite after they both devoured the noodles together. She grabbed hold of Y/n’s writs to make sure she aimed right and at last managed to bite off a piece. The latter reached over to Jennie’s face whose cheeks were fluffed out from having her mouth full.

Her finger brushed the corner of Jennie’s lips who only turned her head more to Y/n as she was used to it. The girl always fed her, always wiped her mouth, always knew what to order, what was needed in which mood. She scooped up the grain of rice and licked it off her thumb before poking Jennie’s cheek who whined.

“You’re still as cute when you eat, God I could squish the literal life out of you until there’s a bloody explosion.”

“That raises many warnings, Y/n,” Jennie mumbled as she swallowed the food at last and watched Y/n take a bite herself while Jennie took a sip of the iced tea that they had drunk a third off. It had made Jennie more than just a bit tipsy now, the drunk slowly incoming, but she didn’t mind as she could tell that Y/n was in the same state.

“It should because if I were to use enough pressure to squeeze you, you’d die.”

Jennie widened her eyes and slowly turned her head to the side to glance at Y/n.

“Why are you saying these things?” She questioned and Y/n fed her another bite.

“I don’t know, they are just these impulsive things that leave my mouth so be careful if they become actual gestures.” Jennie shoved Y/n who was laughing yet again.

The girl always did the most random gestures of affection towards Jennie. Say these words that were somewhere between cute and concerning, but Jennie loved it all. The way she would do more than just buy her flowers, all these small things Jennie had always taken notice of. She’d go as far as to perfectly place Jennie’s slippers beside the bed so she could slip them on right away when she woke up. Now Jennie’s slippers were mostly discarded messily because she always kicked them off when getting into bed with no Y/n to fix them.

“Hold on, or we will get there next week.” Y/n stopped and let go of Jennie’s hand that was clasped with hers, the older one swaying them back and forth as she was walking in a mix of steps, skips, and whatever else she was doing with her feet, dancing her way to the next destination which was slowing them down. Y/n needed to be there on time.

“You got me drunk.” Jennie sang out, shuffling in place with her feet.

“We’re in the same boat, Miss Kim.” The said girl giggled as she had been slowing them down by doing everything but walking. Y/n pulled Jennie to her by the jacket and she crashed into her.

“Where are you taking me?” Jennie questioned and Y/n turned around.

“Get on my back first.” She ushered and bent her knees.

“Want me to mount you like a stallion?” Y/n snorted at that.

“Who is dirty-minded now?”

“It’s a disease carried by you,” Jennie replied and grabbed hold of Y/n’s shoulders with her hands. She huffed and Y/n stumbled a step before managing to stabilise herself with her arms wrapping around Jennie’s thighs.

“Now I’m carrying a parasite–ouch.” Y/n winced when she got gently bonked at the top of her head before she looked to her side. Jennie peeked in with a smile on her lips, her arms loosely wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders whose eyes were creasing from her smile.

“Well? Walk, horsie.” Jennie ordered and gently nudged Y/n with her heel as if she were an actual horse.

She did start walking, making it out of the Gangnam district much quicker despite her legs needing some stabilising to not fall as her coordination was slightly off and she was carrying Jennie. The girl on her back rested her cheek against the side of her head, snuggling closer to Y/n to keep her warm as she still had her jacket on. She had already planned how to end up with the jacket at home because she knew that Y/n would walk her to the entrance of her apartment building at the end of the night. She never let Jennie walk alone at night, she’d always pick her up with the car if Jennie didn’t drive, or she’d walk with her. It didn't matter if Jennie was with friends or if Y/n was busy, she would always get there.

“Y/n…” Jennie mumbled, looking ahead as they continued to walk, Y/n adjusted the girl on her back as they were close to the destination. She hummed, glancing down at Jennie’s fingers to see the girl tugging on them and she could tell that whatever it was it was something that made Jennie worried or uneasy. “Did you–did you try seeing anyone during these four months?” She asked, dreading the answer because she had no clue how Y/n had spent these past four months. If she had spent two whole months crying, a month trying to leave the house without bags under her eyes or if she skipped all of it.

Y/n chuckled, giving her thigh a squeeze that made Jennie whine at the ticklish sensation. “God no, I’ve been staying with my mum at this big age and working from home. I didn’t leave the house and just stayed with mum even if she continuously scolded me.” She admitted. She hadn’t even thought about another woman aside from Jennie. Y/n couldn’t tell how many hours she spent in bed crying while listening to the 'Disintegration album by The Cure'.

Jennie felt relief wash over her to know that she hadn’t been the only one. It made her feel less of a fool and made her feel better. It was confirmation that they both took it hard because they both loved each other.

“What was she scolding you for?” She curiously asked.

“Not obvious for your little pea brain?” Y/n questioned.

“Never mind then,” Jennie grumbled, rolling her eyes and Y/n stopped walking.

“Get off me now–” Y/n wiggled Jennie off of her, the girl sliding back down onto her feet, her hands letting go of Y/n’s shoulders when she was fully off. It felt cold and if they were both honest neither of them wanted to pull away. “She scolded me for leaving you and said that I would never get the family ring to propose to the next girl I would meet because you were the only right one and worthy of having it.” It made Jennie’s heart drop as Y/n grabbed her hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. It hurt, it hurt them both badly to know that the planned future was in the past.

They had both agreed to wait for marriage and a family until they were at a perfect place in their lives. There was no such thing as a perfect place in their lives when it had been perfect ever since they met. The only thing they had to wait for was to finish studying and have stable enough jobs to start a family. Nothing could have been more perfect and they had waited long enough for a perfect moment to never come now.

Jennie sighed and looked down at her feet as she walked in sync with Y/n. The realisation of actually being 28 now hit her, and if she would ever move on, she’d be too old to start that family of two kids. Unless she would rush into it all. The anxiety started to eat at her as she had never processed what being 28 meant. What did it matter if she was working her dream job if she was earning money that let her live comfortably, if she was in a stable place in her life? When she wasn’t even close to stable in her love life that was dead.

“We’re here.” Jennie looked up from the void under her that was ready to swallow her as it had started to drag her down and had invited her to suffer with endless anticipatory fear. Over the five years she had spent her birthdays with Y/n, she had managed to forget how depressing they were. How anxious they had always made her. Another year had just passed by and there were things Jennie had yet to do. She had forgotten how much she hated birthdays.

Y/n took out her phone and looked at the time it was 11:09 P.M. and Jennie gasped when Y/n tugged on her. “Quick before it’s too late.” Jennie found herself running towards the Banpodaegyo bridge whose neon lights were glowing. People were walking along the bridge, but Jennie and Y/n were running like their lives depended on it.

“I’m gonna fall,” Jennie whined as her legs were barely keeping up with Y/n’s longer ones, to add she was still under the influence and her running felt bumpy and very unsteady. They made it onto the bridge, Jennie tried to slow down, but Y/n did not let her and continued to run. “Y/n!” The girl let out in panic, making Y/n look over her shoulder at Jennie who was doing her best to keep up. The two were too occupied to care about anyone who would glance their way. Her shorter legs were messily trying to run and she was sure she'd run into something if Y/n wasn't guiding her as she felt herself leaning to one side more.

It soon turned into giggles and Y/n finally stopped, letting Jennie crash into her when she turned around and yanked her into her. Her arms wrapped around the panting girl as they made it to the middle of the bridge. “I could have died.” She tiredly complained, heaving for breath as she was not the best athlete after drinking. Y/n chuckled and grabbed hold of Jennie’s waist, gently pulling her away and looking down at her as she looked up.

“You’re being dramatic–” Y/n said and turned Jennie to face the Han River, the kitten leaned against the railing and looked over the dark river where the moon was being illuminated. She let out a sigh, taking in the scenery while fog left her mouth from the small pants of air.

The younger one busied herself with digging through the pocket of her loose jeans. She got nothing and put her hand into the left one and finally stumbled upon what she was looking for. “Okay, here–you have to throw the coin into the water and make a wish, it’s about to be 11:11 and it’s your birthday so whatever you wish for has to come true.” Jennie turned her head and looked at Y/n with some confusion before letting her eyes fall onto the coin in Y/n’s palm.

“Y/n, I’m not five–” She was cut off by Y/n who took Jennie’s hand and put the cold coin in her hold.

“You are never too old for wishes, I have never heard of that law.” The younger seriously said and Jennie sighed as she turned back to the river. She looked down at the coin in her palm before she clutched it in her hand while Y/n leaned beside her and waited patiently. “Make sure to close your eyes, it’s 11 now.” She reminded her and watched how Jennie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Despite trying to protest at first she seemed to be in deep thought as her brows creased slightly and she was focusing hard.

Jennie threw the coin and opened her eyes as she stood on her toes to follow it with her eyes, but lost sight after a second as it got swallowed by the darkness. “When will it come true?” She asked and looked to her side at Y/n who was also looking over the railing too.

“You have to wait and it will come, could be in the next hour, day, week, or years, but at some point, it will come true.” Y/n reassured her before she pulled away from the railing. This time she took out her earphones, putting one in her ear.

Jennie frowned as she now was invested in the whole ordeal and wanted to see if it really would come true. Would she have to wait years?

“Come on,” Y/n grabbed hold of Jennie’s hand and the girl was somewhat hesitant to leave now that she had made a wish. Scared it wouldn’t come true if she left.

“But it will come true, right?” She asked to make sure while taking the one earphone that was handed to her.

“It’s the best day to make a wish since it’s your birthday, so obviously yes.” Jennie took one last glance before she clung to Y/n’s arm.

‘L$D - A$AP Rocky’

The two walked in silence through the rest of the bridge, rather admiring the moment in silence than filling it with chatter while listening to the music. The peace still managed to create memories as Jennie felt nostalgic and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was walking with Y/n again or not. Her side leaned into Y/n who put her arm around her shoulders as they walked instead. By the time they made it to the end of the bridge, the next song started playing and Jennie was so familiar with them that it confused her.

‘As Long as You Follow - Fleetwood Mac’

“You won’t mind if I take you to one more place?” Y/n questioned and Jennie looked up at her with docile eyes. She blinked them as they had glossed over and there was a lump in her throat for whatever reason. God, she did not want it to end. Jennie wanted this night to last forever. If she could somehow make it last forever she would do just that. Everything to not have Y/n leave her by the end of the night. Jennie shook her head as Y/n could take her to the edge of the world and she wouldn’t mind, she could drag her across all continents and she would be content.

The song was warming Jennie's soul, the lump pushing itself in her throat and she couldn't get over it. She almost wanted to curse Y/n out for playing Fleetwood Mac as they always listened to the band together. Y/n especially loved them. It was as if Y/n wanted to make her cry by playing this song and Jennie was forcing the tears back despite a few strays falling only to what she thought was her knowledge, forgetting that Y/n noticed everything about her. Her lips quivered and her heart thudded heavily.

Y/n hauled a cab and opened the door for Jennie who was citing all the songs.

‘Wot’s…Uh the Deal - Pink Floyd’

All of them weren’t necessarily songs Jennie listened to, but what Y/n listened to as she had a wide range of music tastes. She could still remember how excited Y/n would get to play them to Jennie on the guitar, acoustic or electric, it didn’t matter. She would sit down with Jennie and teach her how to play certain songs and help the girl get better at the string instrument. Sit right behind her and teach her each fret, tab, and chord that had to be played. She would always be so patient.

‘10:37 - Beach House’

Her eyes gazed through the window as she held onto Y/n’s hand who had her arm around her shoulders. The night slowly passed, people still roamed the streets, and lights turned red before turning green, Jennie only watched how the time passed while the car moved through the streets of Seoul.

‘Five String Serenade - Mazzy Star’

If she couldn’t make this night last forever, she would like time the time to pass by slowly. To make it last as long as possible, or for the road to never end and sit in Y/n’s arms her whole life. That way all her worries about her uncertain future would disappear. She would disappear in these songs while loving whatever simple things came to her as long as they were from Y/n.

‘What kind of love - Childish Gambino’

“Where are we going?” Jennie asked at last as she hadn’t heard where Y/n was taking them. She just followed. Y/n gave her a cheeky smile as she looked down at Jennie. Her hand untangled itself from Jennie’s two and she used it to brush away some of the hair that was falling in her face before letting her hand fall back down as it was resting around Jennie. The girl clung back onto it, playing with Y/n’s fingers. “You will see in a second ‘cause we’re almost there.” Jennie pouted at that and rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

‘Teenager - Deftones’

She started to feel like she had been thrown in a time capsule as the view of the Seoul tower was much more clear now. Jennie moved from Y/n’s hold and looked closer at where exactly they were heading. Her sight was somewhat blurry from the alcohol that she had consumed, but she knew that she wasn’t drunk enough to be this delusional.

‘Bel Air - Lana Del Rey’

“Why are we stopping by the cable cars?” She questioned and looked back at Y/n who paid the man who had driven them from the bridge to the cable cars that went up to the tower. Jennie wouldn’t be questioning it all too much if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was closed.

“I rather take a cable car than walk a dark trail at night, Jen,” Y/n said with a chuckle and opened the door before getting out. She held it open and Jennie got out with the girl’s help, bidding one last goodbye to the driver before closing the door to the car. With that she led the way, still dragging a confused Jennie with her.

“It’s closed though.” She deadpanned. It closed at 11 P.M. and it was 11:45 P.M. and Jennie’s birthday was almost over. She was starting to feel like Cinderella and soon enough she’d leave and leave everything behind her. Maybe this would be her last time with Y/n. It didn’t add up in her head and she didn’t want it. Although she felt like she wasn’t the one to make this decision, she was too scared to do it. What if she would get rejected?

“I helped a client invest and win a lot of money. He’s connected to the news Channel who owns it and since he was going to give me a bonus I asked if he could instead fix this for me.” Y/n explained and the girl frowned.

‘When the Sun Hits - Slowdive’

“Okay, and how did you time it all so well that it happened to be now that you ran into me?” Jennie questioned with some suspicion. Y/n chuckled, the kitten looking at her to see the dimples showing and she squeezed her smaller hand.

“Hey, I told you that I hoped I would run into you earlier and so with that hope, I picked this date and if I hadn’t run into you, I would have gone with one of my friends or alone.” Y/n shrugged it off as she knew that Jennie would realise soon enough as the strongest effects of the alcohol had slowly started to subside. They were approached by a guard and Y/n confirmed her identity as Jennie was digging in her blurry brain for what it exactly was.

It wasn’t long until they had made it up the stairs and the cable car was open and waiting. Y/n let Jennie get on first before getting on after the door closed. It was in queue when the next song started playing and Y/n laughed.

‘How You Remind Me - Nickelback’

“It doesn’t count if you aren’t screaming the lyrics Jennie—And this is how you remind me.”

“Y/n…”Jennie shied away like she always did.

“Come on, it’s just us—” Jennie looked unconvinced for a second as they sat in the cable car that was riding up over the dark forest, over the empty road. She giggled as Y/n pulled out the invincible guitar as the pre-chorus started. It was somewhat between childish, but also freeing as Y/n turned up the volume. “Sing or you are flying out.” Y/n threatened.

There truly never were any reasons to hold back when she was with Y/n and they always screamed songs until they lost their voices.

“It’s not like you to say sorry!”

Maybe it was because she was still under the influence, but it could be Y/n’s influence or the alcohol. She found herself singing the whole song with Y/n, knowing every word of it while sharing the invincible microphone with Y/n. The second Y/n laid her eyes on Jennie the girl had that big gummy smile that she adored so much. It was a smile she always wanted to be the cause of and she knew that it wouldn’t be possible if they were away. Unless Jennie still smiled this big whenever she looked back at the memories they had made together.

It was that feeling of being back in college, of being back together with Y/n. Screaming songs, wandering nights, getting lost in what love was for them. It was overwhelmingly good and it was sentimental whenever she looked back at those times. They had never been lost as she knew that Y/n let her live it all over and over again, but that was when they were together. Love was something only Y/n could make her feel on this type of level. The one that healed all the time, surely forgetting all the suffering she had done the past four months.

“All we need to do now is start a band together,” she found herself giggling at Y/n’s words, burying her face in her shoulder as they took out the earphones. She wrapped her arm around Jennie, rubbing her back and unable to even try to let the smile fall. Compared to the Jennie she first cornered in the bathroom, it was like seeing the Jennie she left, being able to bring her right back to life. The Jennie she never should have left even if they both agreed that it would be better. At times there is no such thing as the right thing to do, but possibly people could forgive the mistake when all she had in mind was the best for the girl.

Jennie heaved a sigh and suddenly, as if lightning struck her and woke her up, she realised what it was. Her lips parted, but before she could say anything they had reached the top and their fingers intertwined as they walked out. With a man from staff, they were led to the tower and then to the elevator.

Y/n looked down at Jennie, she kind of figured that the woman had figured it out by now. She looked almost devastated as her gaze was on the floor.

She felt like crying, she wanted to hate Y/n for doing something like this to her, but she couldn’t. This was probably the best gift she could have received, but the biggest problem was that she didn’t have Y/n. They walked out of the elevator, it was silent with just the two of them and Jennie let go of Y/n’s hand as she walked over to the windows. The whole thing was overwhelming as she was keeping her tears at bay and bit her lower lip, taking in a shaky breath as she looked over the view of Seoul at night in the tower that was closed to everyone but them…again.

Y/n put her hands in her pockets to warm them and stood just a step behind Jennie, being able to catch the woman’s reflection in the window. She had realised and Y/n had been expecting Jennie to get emotional because she was always a soft and emotional kitten.

“Those were all the songs we listened to that night in the exact order.” Jennie pointed out as she realised why the songs brought her so much nostalgia and why the order of them rang so many bells in her head. She wouldn’t have noticed otherwise, but the order was just right and now they had screamed the lyrics in that cable car once again while reaching the top. It all came rushing to Jennie.

“I know,” the taller girl simply replied, but she had hoped the whole night that Jennie would realise.

Now it made sense why they walked past so many convenience stores before they at last walked into that specific one.

“But you said that you put on shuffle with over 5k songs in your liked ones,” Jennie mumbled and lifted her head to catch Y/n’s reflection. The view was mesmerising, but what Y/n had done, what she had given her as a birthday present was much more meaningful and mesmerising than the view. It made Jennie turn around to look at her, a pout resting on her lips as her cheeks were stained with a few tear streaks.

“I made sure to put them all in a playlist until we stopped listening, which was when we left the cable car back in 2018, January 16th when we first met and I stole you from a club.”

Jennie jutted out her lower lip as Y/n had always been thoughtful, had always done small gestures that meant the world to her, and had been loving and caring. She hated that she had to be all those things when they weren’t together. It wasn’t fair. “Why?” Her voice cracked and her nose pricked before the tears won and spilled over her eyes.

Y/n gave her a soft and gentle smile, taking her hands out of her pockets. Her hands came up to Jennie’s face as she cupped her cheeks which were cold and soft in her hold, wet with tears that were warm on her cold skin that was tinted a light pink like her nose. She leaned into her hold with a sniffle, the ice on her skin melting at how good it felt to be in the warmth that was home.

“I kind of figured out that night that I would marry you and you seemed to be in bliss because of the night—so I thought that if I were to mess up big along the way I could replay the night for you and make it good again by doing exactly what I did the first time we met and then got together shortly after.” The girl admitted. She had regretted every moment away from Jennie because what she thought was right truly wasn’t. Her last hope was to show Jennie what they were together and hope that even if she suggested it, Jennie would want her right back. It was a stupid mistake, but everyone made them. Y/n just hoped that it wasn’t too late to fix what was broken.

She at least didn't want Jennie to hate her, hoping all she could leave were good memories after her.

Nothing was broken though. They were only broken away from each other, but it was like kintsugi the second they were right by each other again.

“I regret even suggesting it but I was thinking of you—” Jennie didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t blame Y/n. She had seen it from Y/n’s point of view and she knew how she always put Jennie first.

“I know that you were. I think we needed to be away from each other to truly realise how much we need one another to never take the other for granted or do anything to lose each other. To remember how much good we brought each other.” Jennie mumbled and Y/n huffed in relief through her nose as Jennie had always been understanding of her thinking and how she didn’t mean to make things more complicated than needed. It was enough for Jennie to forget the bad and only remember how much good they had brought, how much that had changed their lives in only good ways and she would forever cherish that.

She let go of Jennie and pulled her in for a hug, the shorter girl wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist. She shed her last tears into her shoulder while Y/n soothed her, kissing the side of her head, and rubbing her back while holding her firmly. Jennie couldn’t tell what she was crying over anymore, but the relief made it impossible not to cry. She was still trying to comprehend how they after six years did everything they did the first time they met on Jennie’s birthday.

How Y/n somehow convinced Jennie to leave the club with her (she forgot safety the second she saw the girl).

She had dragged Jennie to that exact convenience store where they ate the same things, and Y/n mixed mango iced tea with tequila that they shared.

When they left and got to the bridge where Jennie made the wish and threw a coin in. A wish that came true because her drunk self wished for Y/n to ask her out despite meeting just an hour prior.

How they listened to music after (those exact tracks) and took a cab.

The only difference was that Y/n had managed to lie their way into letting them take the cable car and be in the tower for just a few minutes.

After that, Y/n walked Jennie to her college dorm and got her number before they parted ways.

They had taken a cab back to the place they used to share where Jennie stayed alone now. Y/n took the elevator up with Jennie who was now opening the door and as she did– “My baby boy.” Y/n cooed as Kuma ran out barking and jumping at her legs as she hadn’t seen him in four whole months. She picked him up, moving her face away as he tried to lick at her.

“I feel bad for even saying this, but he stayed every day whining by the door and waiting for you,” Jennie admitted as she stood in the door frame, removing her sneakers and pushing them aside. She looked at Y/n who was crouched on the floor with the dog going crazy in her arms. The little puppy they had gotten together because they had still been young and wanted some kind of family together.

“I am so sorry, Kuma.” She apologised, feeling almost just as bad for leaving him as she did with Jennie.

Jennie bit her lower lip, watching the two as Y/n put him down, but he started to run around her and barked some more. Kuma wasn’t letting Y/n go, just like Jennie didn’t want to let go. “You could come in, Y/n…” She suggested and Y/n looked from the floor, a glint in her eyes as they trailed from Jennie’s legs, over her whole body before they got to her eyes.

“Nightcap?”

“Yes, just get inside.” Y/n chuckled and picked up the dog before stepping inside the familiar apartment. It was a home, it used to be at least, but what made it a home was Jennie. She slid off her shoes as Jennie walked further inside. Her feet led her to the living room that still looked the same and the other woman wasn’t there yet as she trailed to another part of the apartment. She slumped down onto the couch and put Kuma in her lap.

Her eyes landed on the marble coffee table and she leaned closer while petting the dog. She chuckled at the thought that came to her mind. “Jennie?” She called for the woman, and the sound of her light footsteps came from behind as she left the kitchen. She hummed and Y/n turned to her, taking the whiskey on the rocks that Jennie handed her. “Did you manifest this?” She questioned and looked back down at the Polaroid photo of her right by the candles.

Jennie groaned at that as she saw how it looked. “No! I did not. I like candles and it just happened that I left it there before leaving the apartment.” She explained in her defence. The photo had been behind her phone case for all those months until she left today with the plan to hook up with someone. God forbid one of her friends would see her still carrying that picture after she purposely made Y/n look like she was a jerk behind closed doors—she wasn’t. Now it was lying by the candles and looked like she had been sitting and manifesting all of this.

“So, I’m the only one?” Y/n questioned as she took out her phone and placed it upside down on the coffee table. A polaroid of Jennie in the case and she took a sip of the cold hard liquor while glancing at Jennie who walked around to sit on the couch. The jacket she got to borrow was discarded as she left it in the kitchen just to make sure that Y/n would forget it.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest before taking a sip of the golden brown liquid that hit her taste buds. It made her somewhat wince as she was always between liking and hating whiskey depending on the brand. “First of all, I took it out today, second, I'm not obliged to carry it around,” Y/n gave her a look as she knew that Jennie was trying to get on her nerves. She loved playing those little games where Y/n would piss her off and she’d do it back. Part of why she told her friends things that weren’t true.

Jennie loved being petty like that and was getting back at Y/n right now.

“So, you’re not going to put it back?” She questioned, taking sips from the crystal whiskey glass, the ice clanked around in their glasses while they looked at each other.

“Nope, it would get in the way, wouldn’t it?” Y/n helped Kuma down on the floor before she reached back for her phone. Jennie watched the girl with intensity and felt something boil in her when she saw Y/n open her case. “What’re you doing?” She seriously asked. Through the months just the thoughts of Y/n seeing someone else made Jennie kick and scream in emotions that were green and red. She was ready to pay people to stay away from her and hire people to pull every person Y/n would try to be with apart.

“Your picture will get in the way.” She shrugged, quickly taking yet another sip of the whiskey and putting the glass down. It let her use both her hands and Jennie found herself placing her glass down too. It was boiling inside Jennie and she wanted to strangle Y/n for even uttering those words.

“No, you don’t get to do that.” Her tone went into that angry one that Y/n knew. Not angry even, emotions she only felt when it came to Y/n who she couldn’t stand thinking about being with anyone but her. She would be jealous, she’d die in jealousy, she lost it when she saw Y/n being approached by women who had clear intentions of flirting–she knew that Y/n at times gave in to the flirting just to see Jennie jealous and angry.

“I think I do if I want to find someone to hook up with–” Jennie clenched her jaw and moved onto her knees as she faced Y/n. She tried to reach for her phone but the girl held it away from her, making Jennie crawl to get closer and try to reach for it. “Weren’t those your intentions tonight when you went out and took out my picture? Oh, I clearly remember what Lisa said in that bathroom.”

“Stop that.” Jennie snapped as Y/n was reaching to remove the polaroid. It made Jennie grab hold of her arm with both hands and tackle it down onto the couch.

“You little bitch.” Y/n grumbled as Jennie snatched the phone out of her hold, lying across her lap. She tried to reach for it with her right hand since Jennie was lying with her upper body on her left one. The kitten bit Y/n’s hand when she tried to take it, busy adjusting the picture so it would be back in place. She hissed and pulled away to see a bite mark on her skin right under the knuckle of her thumb.

“Hey!” Y/n exclaimed.

“Hey.” Jennie mocked and tried to open Y/n’s phone only for her face ID to not work. She gasped as her face ID had been removed, she tried the pin, but it wasn’t working either.

“Jennie.”

“Give me my phone before you block it.”

“Give me my phone before you block it. Who do you have on here that you changed your PIN and removed my face ID?” Jennie continued to push Y/n’s buttons who had been pushing hers. That brattiness came right out as she was ready to give her attitude because she couldn’t phantom that Y/n had done these things. Furiously, she continued to guess the pin with all the important dates and numbers Y/n liked.

“I told you something.” Y/n tried to reach for it again while trying to wiggle out her other hand that Jennie had in a death grip. It only got smacked away.

“I told you something. How ‘bout you do something about it?” Jennie pushed and looked over her shoulder with a frown to ask about the pincode. “What’s–Ahh, Y/n.” She whined when the palm collided against her ass making her squirm at the pain. Jennie had almost forgotten about how horny she had been until that pain shot to her clit instead. She felt somewhat embarrassed and her head fell as she kicked her feet with another whine. It was so unexpected that she had no clue how to react or feel.

“Stop being a pain in the ass.”

It went silent and Y/n waited for what Jennie would say or do. That smack just came naturally and she hadn’t controlled it. Whether Jennie was pissed or not, that spanking wasn’t something she could take responsibility for when Jennie worked her nerves so well.

“Stop being a pain in the ass.” She mocked once again, imitating Y/n who groaned. The little giggle that came from Jennie who lifted her head didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you laughing?”

“Are you laughing?” Jennie knew exactly how much Y/n hated it when she would imitate her without an end. The thoughts made her lift her ass slightly, wriggling in Y/n’s lap as she pushed it out. There was a tension between her legs and she wanted it gone.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re so annoying. Cry about it, Y/n.” She hissed at the girl. It was soon followed by something that was between a groan and a moan as Y/n spanked her ass once more which made Jennie raise her hips and writhe into the couch cushion. That sensation made her cunt throb and slowly start leaking as she clenched her thighs for some relief. It was hard to control as her ass purposely tried to invite Y/n for more as it was turning her on.

“Tell me what it is, Jennie. Why do you need this?” Y/n questioned and looked at Jennie who was still clutching the phone. She huffed and lifted her head, looking over her shoulder and at Y/n. A little smile on her lips, one that was mischievous.

“I did some things you wouldn’t be happy about–been a very bad girl.”

Y/n gripped at the underside of her thigh just under her ass, squeezing it and making Jennie squirm at how ticklish it was on her sensitive thighs.

“You have?” Jennie bit her lower lip and nodded her head.

“What did you do?”

Jennie purposely lifted her hips and arched her back, being on her knees with her hands stretched out in front of her, chest pressing into the couch. She let go of the phone, Y/n’s eyes on the ass that was in the air and she moved her hand up to it. The kitten jutted her lower lip out in feigned despair. “I’ve been out the whole night looking for someone who would fuck my needy little pussy because the toys haven’t been able to satisfy me…” She looked even sadder now as if she's been having the hardest time of her life because of these things and what she said after seemed to be even more devastating for her. “There hasn’t been any cum in me for so long, no one to fill me, breed me, no cum for me to clean up–I’ve been feeling so useless and empty.” She mumbled, with tears brimming in her eyes.

“So, it’s not my fault for looking for someone to do it,” Jennie added in her defence. The heat shot right to her clit again, her ass burned in the best way possible as she could only moan when Y/n spanked her again.

“Y/n, it’s not fair!” She cried out despite enjoying it. The latter was growing hard, thinking about Jennie’s snug and pink pussy that she’s missed being inside of. The one she missed abusing, filling with cum, if not her other holes. Jennie loved it all, she especially loved cleaning up the cum that leaked out of her after.

“How is it not fair? I’m not the one who's been walking around like I’m in heat and looking for strangers to fuck me.” Her hand ran over Jennie’s inner thighs before she made it to the girl’s pussy which was covered by the black cargo pants. It was enough to make Jennie whine and try to rub her throbbing cunt against the hand that cupped her heat. Y/n’s other hand stroked along Jennie’s bare spine which was warm and arched to show off her ridges.

“It’s my birthday.” Jennie slyly pointed out.

“I’m supposed to give in because of that? Give you a free pass?” Y/n asked, gently rubbing Jennie’s clothed cunt. The girl desperately tried to push her hips more into the hand that removed pressure every time she tried. It was keeping her on the edge as she pathetically continued to try and hump at Y/n's hand.

“Yes. Please creampie my pink and tight little pussy and make me a mommy tonight.” The erection was now straining against Y/n’s jeans as the offer was one she did not want to pass on despite it giving Jennie a free pass. Her brain cells reasoned with each other, agreeing on it being Jennie’s birthday even if it was past 12, but it didn’t count until they went to sleep and woke up. Her eyes gazed into Y/n’s, practically daring her to do it.

“Get up,” never in her life had Y/n seen Jennie get up so fast. The girl always liked to take her time simply because she wanted to or because she wanted to annoy Y/n. The giggly and horny Jennie ran towards the bedroom with Y/n taking long strides right after her.

The bedroom was also the same with Jennie on the bed unzipping her pants. “Hey, hey, slow down,” Y/n complained and the feline pouted when her hands were pushed away from the fly of her cargo pants.

“I’m so horny though.”

“I can tell that much,” Y/n commented with her hands pulling Jennie up to sit. Her arms wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders and she pulled her down, hands gripped at her waist and she got her breath taken away. Jennie melted and healed when she finally had Y/n’s lips against hers again. She didn’t want to wait when she tilted her head and opened her mouth for the tongue to push against her. It tasted of whiskey, it was just as intoxicating and was washing over her body, injecting itself deep within her veins.

One person could only satisfy the other.

Jennie couldn’t even satisfy herself when she was horny. Y/n knew just how to eat her out, stuff her with cock, fuck her, make her orgasm and beg for more.

She swallowed Y/n’s tongue, sucking on it and the girl groaned when Jennie’s hand came down from her shoulder and rubbed at her cock through the pants. It was making Jennie’s clit throb painfully, just feeling Y/n’s cock was making her try to clench her thighs that Y/n stood between. Both her hands went to the bulge, rubbing at the outline while undoing the zipper with her other while Y/n threaded her fingers through Jennie’s hair.

“Please, please–” Y/n cut Jennie off who pulled away and was about to plead for her to start fucking her.

“I will, but you have to show off for me first.” She pried Jennie’s hands away from the hem of her jeans and pulled her up onto her feet. “I know it’s your birthday, but you said yourself that you were a bad girl, so this is the least you can do.” Y/n ushered and smiled at Jennie as the girl squinted her eyes.

The girl was determined to show Y/n exactly what she walked out from. Her eyes were laced with seductiveness even if the girl was stalling her orgasm. The girl reached into the pocket of her pants and took out her phone, Y/n smiled bigger and leaned back against her palms as the smart home speakers started to play Champagne by The Weeknd . Jennie turned around and tossed her phone onto the dresser.

Her eyes watched Jennie’s every move and her fingers grabbed hold of the small piece that was tied at her side to hold the shirt against her body. She pulled it, slowly, Y/n’s eyes stuck on the slim back and just watching her was enough to make Y/n’s chest heave even more. Jennie undid it, her hands running over her body, tugging up the open-back shirt with her before letting go as it fell back down. Y/n waited in anticipation, almost regretting it as she couldn’t wait for Jennie to remove the shirt and turn so she could see her chest.

Her body gently moved to the music, her fingers ran over her arm and over to the one strap before she gently tugged it down. The other hand ran under her shirt towards the other strap. She made sure to let out a light hum to let Y/n know that she ran over her breast before she reached the strap. Jennie slid them down her shoulders, the shirt fell with a soft thud to the floor.

She had yet to turn around though.

Instead, she finished undoing her pants and proceeded to bend over with her fingers hooked around the hem. It couldn’t have gone slower, the way she slowly started to pull them down her ass, revealing more and more of the flesh and lacy material of her black cheeky underwear. They went up her ass as she got the pants under her cheeks. Her ass was plump and pushed right out with her puffy pussy, the woman’s back arched and her eyes coming to peek over her shoulder. Her feline eyes were clouded by lust and she looked back in front of her as Y/n looked hypnotised.

She pulled them further down, revealing her creamy thighs inch by inch while making sure to show off how agile she was by slowly bending herself in half. It wasn’t until they were resting by her calves that Jennie started to get down on her knees to the music. The girl was holding back from dragging Jennie to bed now. She got on her knees, her back straight and showing off her perfect posture as she slid into a side-sitting position with her legs on one side (left), the pants fully discarded now. Her hand came over behind her and dragged her hair to one side of her shoulder, looking to the side while doing so. The movements were soft.

She moved her legs further, taking them in front of her and spreading them open. Her palms planted behind her and slowly slid against the rug, reclining herself back. It was hypnotising, her chest at last coming into view, more and more until she was lying on her back. Jennie loved showing off her body, especially to Y/n and no one else. Her body was just for Y/n and whether it was her birthday or not, a striptease was just as satisfying to her as it was to Y/n. (She was also aware that she had to pay for what she did when trying to look for someone else.)

She couldn’t begin to explain how much her clit started to throb when she caught the look on Y/n’s face. The wetness was gushing as she loved being admired by Y/n. It was almost enough to get off for Jennie. Her hand came between her legs, her hips moved in a fluid wave like motion when she whined them into the fingers that brushed over the slick material, fingers threading into the rug as her eyes closed. She continued to run her hand up her body, fingers feather-likely running over her skin which made her chest heave and body move. A soft moan slipped past her lips when she brushed over her nipple until she reached her throat.

Jennie was quick and agile in the way she smoothly turned from her back and onto her stomach. Her eyes were almost predatory the way she looked up at Y/n while slowly pushing herself up, ass coming up first with hands stretched out in front of her until she pushed herself forward and was standing on all fours.

Slowly she crawled the small distance like a cat over to Y/n, her hips moving, her back still arched. Jennie reached the girl and got on her knees while looking at her through her lashes, her hands grabbed hold of Y/n’s knees, pulling her legs apart to get between them. In one smooth motion, like waves, she slid up, getting on her feet and coming face to face with Y/n, her hands holding onto Y/n’s shoulders.

“Am I excused for being bad?” Jennie questioned, her chest heaving, as if she ran a marathon, but the arousal was just getting overwhelming. She could feel how sticky it was between her legs, everything spilling and smearing on her inner thighs. The underwear piece was ruined. Y/n licked her lips and grabbed her hips, looking down at Jennie’s chest, her nipples perky, her breasts plump.

“More than excused—you deserve to not only get your pussy stuffed but also eaten.” There was that vocal fry in Y/n’s voice that Jennie knew so well. It meant that she would get her pussy messily devoured. She squealed when Y/n got up and put Jennie on the bed, she pushed her back and leaned down. Fingers threaded into her hair when she attached her lips to Jennie’s chest first.

It was eliciting small whines and gasps, the tongue swirling her nipple, teeth gently tugging, the other being roughly groped the way she liked it. Y/n wrapped her mouth around as much soft flesh as possible and sucked before licking. Jennie’s hips were pathetically bucking at the heat that was bubbling in her stomach because of it. “Y/n!” She cried out at the way her nipple was pinched between Y/n’s fingers, the girl tugged on the bud after and started to kiss down to Jennie’s cleavage.

“Please, I promise, I taste so good,” Jennie begged as Y/n was kissing down her stomach. The kitten squirmed when her nipple got flicked, the bud more swollen and red now as Y/n had abused the sensitive nub that was stiff.

“Have you been cleaning up your messes lately?” Y/n asked with a smirk, glancing up at Jennie who had her head thrown back with her back arching, hips desperately pushing into Y/n. She whined, not wanting to answer the embarrassing question as she had been feral trying to fuck herself right only to make a mess but not orgasm hard enough. This time she cried, slightly kicking her feet when Y/n twisted the same nipple again.

“Answer, Jen.”

“I lick my fingers clean because they get so messy.” She admitted in a whine, her cheeks even more flushed as it was now just flowing out of her. Jennie always got so wet, and someone had to clean it after. Y/n was well aware of how Jennie would always leak with juices. The videos she’d send of playing with her pink pussy when Y/n wasn’t there to eat her out, making sure to show how she would lick up the sticky mess of her fingers after getting as much as possible on them. She loved sucking Y/n’s cock, especially to have cum shoot into her mouth that she’d swallow.

“You want me to taste you?” Y/n continued to tease as she was on her knees and Jennie pushed herself up. A look of desperation on her face, tears welling in her eyes as it was hurting now. “Yes.” She watched Y/n who hooked her fingers around her underwear and she started to tug them down. They clung to her wet cunt, pulling a sticky mess with them as Y/n peeled them off and dropped the ruined material on the floor.

“All for you.” Jennie surely invited the girl who was on her knees in front of her by spreading her legs, her hand coming in between her legs. She bit her lower lip as Y/n watched her use her fingers to spread her glistening and puffy folds. Her hole was clenching in greediness as her arousal was slowly leaking out of it, running down her ass and onto the sheets. She ran them over to her clit, showing the swollen bud by pulling back the hood. Y/n smiled and gently removed Jennie’s fingers as she had shown off her cunt enough.

The girl waiting, finally in the only suitable outfit on a day like this, in her birthday suit.

“I will make sure to take it all.” Y/n reassured her and Jennie’s hand gripped onto her hair while Y/n moved Jennie’s leg to wrap it around her shoulder. The girl groaned as Jennie forcefully pulled on her hair and shoved her face fully into her cunt. She gasped, squirming and grinding her hips into Y/n’s face when she licked right up along her slit, tongue spreading her lips. The taste washed over Y/n’s tongue, it was addicting and she moved back down, her tongue flat against the heat as she licked up from the sopping hole, bringing it all up to her clit.

Jennie’s lips stayed apart, breaths desperate and the sounds falling from between them as she couldn’t control it neither could she control the squirming into Y/n’s face. “Fuck, Y/n–more, I want more,” she whined, her eyes falling closed and her back hit the mattress as she couldn’t hold herself up.

Y/n sucked onto her outer lips, sucking them in and teasing with her tongue, dipping down and nudging the grasping hole with her tongue, swirling it which made Jennie gasp and writhe for more. However, she would feel bad if she teased Jennie for too long as the girl had been all ready since they entered the bedroom. Her hand gripped Jennie’s hip to ground them and control their whining as they weren’t controlled by the nymphomaniac that Jennie was.

“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much, the way you fuck me.” Jennie cried out when lips wrapped around her clit, the tongue firmly flicking at it at a perfect angle. Y/n ran her other hand over to Jennie’s hole, her one finger teasing around the hole while she continued to flick at her clit. Her tongue moved quickly, harshly flicking back and forth as it always made Jennie’s thighs quiver, trying to close around her head and leave the girl unsure of what to grip onto or how to act.

Her juices were smearing over her chin, running down and creating a mess and Y/n couldn’t help but dip down for more. The pleasure didn’t stop for Jennie who gyrated her hips into Y/n’s nose while the girl lapped at her hole, gathering the stickiness on her tongue before bringing it back up. She swirled around her clit before she wrapped her lips around it and suckled hard enough for Jennie to moan louder and arch her back off of the mattress. The birthday girl had always been vocal and sensitive to all touch when it came to Y/n. She was quite sure it was because of how many chemicals her body released around her, the oxytocin overflowing.

With ease, Y/n pushed two fingers into Jennie who sucked them in right away. Her walls were warm and throbbing, continuously clenching around the two slender fingers that started to push into her. “So close, I want it,” Jennie mumbled, a few coherent words coming from her now and then as she was lost in the firm and slick muscle that worked her swollen and pulsating clit while fingers pressed against her g-spot. She could feel it coming, the way her stomach started to drop and heat up.

“How bad do you want it?” Y/n gruffly questioned by pulling away for a split second before going right back.

“So bad, I will cry if I don’t get it–play with my pussy until it hurts. All yours.” The words flew out of her blabbering mouth, gasping and falling out of breath. She had been longing for more than Y/n and her love, but this type of love too.

“I love it, you fuck me so good with your tongue. Oh God–” Her chest heaved, her fingers tangling themselves in Y/n’s hair who groaned at the pain while eating at Jennie’s cunt. The mess ran down her chin, down Jennie’s ass, staining the sheets. The sounds were lewd, Jennie moaning, gasping, and whining, and the way Y/n was eating her pussy was making the wet sounds bounce off the walls in the room from the licking and sucking. The younger let out her moans and groans at how much she enjoyed having Jennie squirm while eating her out.

Her thighs shook while clenching around Y/n, her voice strained, her body spasming as she arched off the bed with her hips bucking into Y/n. Jennie lost control of her voice, cries flying out as everything disappeared, her ears ringing and her vision dying out. Her hand flew to her breast, grabbing hold of it as she had no clue where else to grasp. Her walls clasped around Y/n’s fingers, thudding around them as the orgasm crashed through her. It went on for a good few seconds as Y/n didn’t stop and continued to flick at her bud.

It wasn’t until Jennie was panting for breath and instead of pulling her into her pussy she was pulling her away that Y/n stopped. She slowed down, gently cleaning up the mess that Jennie’s cunt was, the girl wriggling under her from the kittenish licks lapping up the juices. Her body relaxed at last, slumping into the mattress and closing her eyes, her pussy palpitating from aftershocks.

“No…” She whined, convulsing and closing her legs with her hands flying between them as Y/n was no longer between them. A heat ran over her at the painful slap that landed against her swollen pussy, the sound wet and harsh.

“Don’t you want my cock too?” Y/n questioned and the girl opened her eyes, looking at Y/n who was using her black sweatshirt to wipe at her chin and mouth. It made her pussy clench at how it was missing Y/n.

“I do.” She dragged out and pulled herself up, her hands grasping at Y/n’s sweatshirt and pulling it up. The latter helped her by fully pulling it over her head and discarding it to the floor with kittenish hands pawing at her slim stomach before they dropped to her pants. Although Jennie didn’t pull them down, she instead moved onto her knees. “Hurry up, my pussy is waiting for your cum, baby.” She purred out while turning around and getting on all fours, showing off her ass and dripping pussy while looking over her shoulder at Y/n. Her ass pushed out for Y/n as she arched her back to further the invite.

“You’re so bad.” Y/n groaned and fully undid her pants, letting them pool around her ankles before she kicked them to the side with her boxers. Jennie bit her lower lip, eyeing the thick and long member, the tip bulbous and red, leaking with precum, the long vein dragged on the underside and Y/n’s slim and veiny hand came over to it. She stroked herself, her other hand caressing the plump outline of Jennie’s ass who only pushed more into her.

“Such a bad girl after not getting my attitude fucked out of me…I get so mean when I don’t have your cum stuffing my pussy.” Jennie agreed, drawing her words out while lowering herself until her chest pressed against the mattress.

“I need–” Jennie stopped Y/n who was about to get to the bedside drawer where she knew condoms were. They always hit it raw, but she wasn’t sure if Jennie had continued with her birth control after four months of being alone.

“No condom,” it wasn’t an ask, but more so a demand. Y/n didn’t mind condoms while Jennie hated them.

“You’re on birth control,” Y/n concluded and went right back to place, guiding her tip between Jennie’s folds who let her head drop at the feeling that sent shivers through her spine.

She bit her lower lip, forcing the smile to not get too big as she couldn’t wait longer as she confirmed Y/n’s conclusion. “Yes.” A sigh followed when the stretch came, Y/n’s tip pushing inside her, spreading her open, splitting her folds and disappearing into her sopping and snug heat. It was squeezing her cock as a moan slipped from her mouth. The warmth of Jennie was so familiar, it was leaving her cock to throb the further she slipped inside the confines of her pink cunt.

The brunette whined, her insides twisting at how good it felt, the cock too big for her smaller body as it was always a tight fit and a big stretch for her to take the girl behind her. Y/n stopped as her pelvis met Jennie’s ass, filling her to the hilt with her hands gripping Jennie’s hips. Her lips parted at the feeling as she stalled any movement and got lost for a second in just the feeling of having Jennie around her.

However, Jennie wasn’t nearly as patient. “Are you going to fuck me or act like a virgin who wet their dick for the first time?” It brought Y/n right out of her drowning thoughts at the rude tone of Jennie who sounded annoyed.

“What?” She breathed out.

“Fuck me or I will find someone else to do it.” Jennie loved digging her own grave. At least she got buried with her back being blown.

“Who else will fuck you this good?” Y/n didn’t wait for an answer as she pulled out almost fully before Jennie was sent flying forward when she slammed her hips back against hers. It drew gasps and moans from Jennie as Y/n proceeded with the deep and hard thrusts. The thick cock dragged along her tight walls, and the wet and squelching noises got louder as Jennie's pussy was a mess. Y/n’s pelvis slapped against Jennie’s ass and started to fill in with moans, groans, whimpers, and gasps. All occupying the room.

Jennie bunched up the sheets in her fists, her face buried in them. She could feel the curved tip abusing her g-spot as it continuously dragged along the soft and spongy spot in her. The cock was hitting deep in her, filling her and hitting the right spots that she wasn’t even able to hit when fucking herself with all kinds of toys.

Her moans were erotic, they fueled Y/n on who was going carnal as Jennie’s pussy, body, voice, and everything else always had that effect. The brunette's hips started to meet Y/n’s thrust, clenching and helping her drag her cock in her pussy.

“Fuck, your cock is so big, it hurts so good.” Jennie moaned as the pain always mixed with the pleasure.

Y/n huffed, biting her lower lip as she moved one hand and landed its palm against Jennie’s ass since the girl was pushing it out for her so much. It was followed by a mewl from the birthday girl.

“Are you going to take all my cum?” Y/n groaned out, the answer taking a second too long and earning Jennie’s bright red ass cheek another spank. The heat only shot right to her clit and she couldn’t feel embarrassed about it as she loved every second of it. “Everything, I’m going to keep it all inside and be a mommy,” Jennie whined, the words only made her clench more as her own words fueled her.

“You look so good with cock in you, your slutty pussy takes it so well.” Y/n complimented, her eyes falling on where her hard cock was disappearing. The wetness was running down Jennie’s thighs, and her pink folds spread because of the cock that was drilling into her cunt which was growing sore. She was sucking Y/n in, doing everything to milk her and get her cum as she forgot about wanting to orgasm. All she wanted was to be creampied and keep it all inside for as long as possible because it made her feel full.

“Only you can play with it so well, fuck it until it hurts–your cocksleeve, for you to warm in and empty into.”

“You love being used.” Y/n threw her head back, her fingers digging into the flesh of Jennie’s ass and hips. The thrusts were hard, the bed squeaking with every stroke inside the snug sleeve that Jennie was for her cock. The smaller girl moved with each thrust that was throwing her forward, making her grip harder to stay in place.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Jennie spewed out, the tension in her stomach started to grow and Y/n could feel how much tighter her walls started to get around her. Her hand dropped from Jennie’s ass and went right under her, pushing onto her lower belly, able to feel herself bulge the small brunette's stomach. It was making Jennie dizzy, the pressure grew and she was getting sent right back into floating.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come so hard around your cock, Y/n.” Jennie cried out, writhing in the sheets as she pulled on them with her hands. Her jaw fell slack, the moans going up in pitch and the heat flashed over her, the cries slowly coming in breathless as the control was lost and she couldn’t tell what was going on.

Y/n continued to pound her, the tension slowly easing from Jennie, although her mind remained clouded. Her body was warm and covered in a sheet of sweat. “I’m so close.” Y/n groaned, her tip twitching.

Jennie could feel the cock grow harder in her. “Fuck, breed my cunt, Y/n–shoot it into my womb.” She intentionally clenched her walls and Y/n’s hips stuttered, Jennie, pushing her ass flush against her to get it all shot deep in her. It filled her even more, Y/n and Jennie both moaning. Rope after rope of thick and creamy cum painted her walls white, making her hum at how good it felt to be filled so well again.

“So good,” Y/n mumbled, her body collapsing onto Jennie’s who slumped down on her stomach. Her chest heaved as she peppered kisses along Jennie’s warm shoulder. The kitten hid her face in the sheets, the cock growing limp in her throbbing cunt as she tried to get back on a normal breathing pattern.

“Happy birthday, Jennie.” She let out a breathless chuckle and Y/n slowly pushed herself up.

“It’s not my birthday anymore.” The brunette mumbled, turning onto her back and raising her knees, trying her best to keep the cum within her walls. Her soft eyes fell onto Y/n, dreading it as she was scared that she would leave. The night was over, and so was her birthday.

“It’s the 16th until you go to sleep.” Y/n reminded her and she smiled, biting her lower lip while Y/n reached for her boxers, pulling them back on.

“Y/n…” The latter looked up at Jennie who was already looking at her. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave.” She mumbled.

“Jennie–” She cut Y/n off right away.

“Please, even if it’s just for the night.” She begged and Y/n chuckled

“Why on earth would I leave?” She questioned, baffled that Jennie thought she would just leave her, especially after having sex. Maybe they said it during sex, but she would never just use Jennie and leave her behind after.

Jennie felt a weight fall off of her, there was a lightness in her chest. She at times hated how sensitive she was as her lower lip jutted out and her breathing picked up to hold her tears back. Y/n heaved a sigh and got on the bed, with ease she pulled Jennie’s limp body with her as she kicked the duvet down before pulling it over them. The girl hugged around Y/n’s slim waist, burying her face in her shoulder as she couldn’t help but cry.

“Will you leave tomorrow?” She asked through her tears. The younger clicked her tongue and ran her fingers through Jennie’s hair. The both of them drowned in the warmth they shared.

“Do you want me to?” She had a good feeling that Jennie did not want her to leave. She wouldn’t be crying otherwise. Y/n was right as Jennie shook her head, tightening her grip around her to make sure that she would stay. It made her pull her small body closer to her and she kissed the top of her head.

“If you want…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie lifted her head, her eyes exhausted and filled with tears. Y/n wiped her cheeks with the pad of her palm before she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I could stay forever.” She suggested and Jennie closed the little gap between them. This time the kiss was soft, neither of them wanting it to rush into anything else than the adoration and love they still and always would have for each other.

“Yes, please.” She mumbled and Y/n smiled against her lips, pecking them.

“I love you, Jennie.” To hear those words again healed all those empty and torn parts in her. They were eager to say them again and wanted to say them a million times more to make up for all the four months that they hadn't said them.

“I love you, Y/n…” She cleared her throat and looked down a little guiltily and Y/n hummed confused. Jennie mumbled something under her breath, her eyes avoiding Y/n’s as she lay in her arms.

“You have to stop mumbling.” Y/n seriously said as the guilty look on Jennie’s face was starting to worry her. She sighed at that and lastly spoke up.

“I’m not actually on any birth control,” Jennie admitted as she had lied. She didn’t care when she hadn’t been sure if Y/n would have stayed. If she had to force Y/n to get back together then she would do so by trapping her. It only made sense to try and get pregnant if she was ovulating and wanted nothing more than Y/n to stay and to have a baby with her.

“You’re evil,” Y/n whispered and Jennie gave her a haughty little smile, showing that she wasn’t as guilty as she pretended to be.

“I don’t care, I only want you.” She pecked Y/n’s lips before she laid her head on her shoulder, nuzzling her face in her neck, drowning in the comforting scent of home that Y/n was to her.

“I only want you too, Jen.” She couldn’t find it in herself to be angry with the kitten. Y/n loved her too much and neither would she mind having kids with her. All she did was pull her closer and hug her, holding her in a way that would lull Jennie right to sleep and at last let her wake up well-rested after so many bad nights of sleep and crying.

“Start preparing to be a parent and do not forget the ring before I get pregnant.” Jennie pointed out and lifted her left hand, showing the empty fingers to Y/n who leaned in and pecked her ring finger. She giggled when Y/n gently bit it and she quickly hid it after.

“Don’t worry about any of it, I still want to marry you and have a family.”

Jennie’s wish did come true once again.

#blackpink smut #jennie smut #jennie x reader #smut #jennie x g!p reader #girl group smut #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #smut with plot #Spotify

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princesssarisa · 9 days ago

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The Different Portrayals of Papageno in "The Magic Flute" (Die Zauberflöte)

Of all the characters in Mozart's The Magic Flute, Papageno is probably the one most open to interpretation by the singer and the stage director. As I've watched different performances of the opera, the funny bird-catcher seems almost like a different character in each version.

Every singer brings unique qualities to the role, but I've narrowed the most common portrayals down to four – which can be combined with each other too. I've seen baritones give excellent performances in every one of these portrayals, as well as in blends of them.

The Innocent

This is the sweetest portrayal of Papageno and the most endearingly simple-minded. He’s most often portrayed by younger baritones: the more baby-faced, the better. This uneducated, naïve young creature of the woods and mountains is almost a Peter Pan figure (without Peter Pan’s brashness or ruthlessness, though with a little of his boyish cockiness), who has never quite grown up. His childlike qualities include total earnestness as he asks questions with obvious answers, childlike quaking and whimpering in the face of danger, and childlike sobbing in moments of despair. Yet while his failure to “be a man” sometimes tries other people’s patience, no one except Monostatos can really dislike him. His friendly, cheerful, exuberant yet gentle demeanor is filled with natural charm, and the broad, sunny comedy of nearly all his scenes keeps the audience laughing, yet his boyish vulnerability is touching too, even when it’s played for laughs. Most endearing of all is his lively, wide-eyed, unabashed joy in all of life’s most simple pleasures. He might be an unsophisticated man-child, but whatever he lacks in maturity or wisdom he makes up for in zest for life and in warmth of heart.

The Peasant

This is a more mature, down-to-earth Papageno, who clearly represents the common man. He comes across as an average, hardy 28-year-old peasant, lifted straight out of the 18th century Austrian countryside into an exotic fairy tale world. Although uneducated and unrefined compared to Tamino, he’s not particularly naïve, but conveys sound working-class intelligence and practicality, and he often delivers his funny lines with a knowing, snarky wit. This makes him a kindred spirit to classic earthy “comic servant” characters like Sancho Panza or Leporello. His lustiness is also pronounced as he craves good food, alcohol, and female companionship: it’s clear that his desire for a Papagena is carnal, not just emotional. And despite all his fears and foibles, there’s an underlying stolidness to him; a sense of resilience that suits a man whose spent his life working hard to earn a humble living. Ultimately, he fails Sarastro’s tests not because he’s silly or weak, but because he’s just too ordinary for the grandly idealistic world of the priests. This makes him less broadly funny than some other Papagenos are, but it makes him easy for the audience to personally relate to, and easy for them to view as a friend too.

The Odd Duck

This is the most eccentric Papageno. His costume tends to be more wildly feathery than other Papagenos’ and make him look less human and more birdlike. He often has more birdlike mannerisms too: for example, making chirping sounds when he sees a pretty girl, or literally screeching in terror. But even if he’s portrayed as fully human, he’s defined by adorable quirkiness. In contrast to the staid dignity of the upper-class characters who surround him, he has puckish, squirrely energy, with little thought for dull things like “manners” or “social rules,” and his emotions always run free and high, sometimes causing funny melodramatics when he’s especially scared or distraught. Yet his joy in living is equally strong and unabashed, and for the audience, it’s infectious. Nor is there any restraint on his love of food, wine, and pretty girls, or on his playful and mischievous sense of humor. This free spirit is a true “child of nature,” who, like a wild bird, lives by his animal instincts: he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of him, no matter how strange, silly, or inappropriate he seems by normal standards of society. He just does whatever he feels like doing, and the audience can’t help but love him for it.

The Sad Clown

This is the least comical Papageno, but no less endearing than the others. His costume tends to lack feathers and be drably colored, disheveled, and poor-looking. Nor is his demeanor as broadly cheerful as other Papagenos’, but more reserved, and as for his style of humor, he’s most akin to Charlie Chaplin’s Little Tramp. The audience laughs at his foibles and slapstick, but feels pity him as well, because he shows a full and realistic range of emotions, with a subtle yet distinct vein of melancholy. He makes us realize what an unlucky man Papageno really is, as he constantly fails other people’s expectations and is browbeaten by both the villains and the heroes alike (all except Pamina). The sense of loneliness he conveys is especially poignant: not only in his deep yearning for a Papagena, but because he grew up without parents, has no real friends (only social superiors, some kind, others less so), and has never known any form of love. This Papageno’s eventual suicide attempt seems much less ridiculous than usual: even though it’s still played partly for laughs, we can almost believe he might go through with it. When he finally finds his Papagena in the end, his happiness feels long overdue and well earned.

The Pecking Rooster

This Papageno portrayal is more of a subtype than an individual type: he can predominantly be either an Innocent, a Peasant, or a Sad Clown. But either way, he’s pricklier than other Papagenos, with more machismo and a little bit more of a temper. Like a rooster defending the henhouse, he feistily defends his own safety and comfort, and like the Cowardly Lion with his “Put ‘em up! Put ‘em up!” he tries (but fails) to mask his fears with “manly” pugnaciousness and pride. Expect this Papageno to posture exuberantly as he claims to have the strength of a giant, to puff himself up to scare Monostatos away, to be as stubborn as a mule in refusing to face each new danger, and to bicker with Tamino and the priests every step of the way. His anger at being constantly ordered around, dragged into unpleasant situations, and denied the reward he was promised (a bride) is loud and clear. Yet unlike his villainous counterpart Monostatos, he’s never consumed by his anger, but combines it with classic Papageno warmth and good humor. For that reason, audiences empathize with his frustration, and admire his proud efforts to stand up to the powers that frustrate him, even though he comically fails to thwart them.

Here are some examples of the different Papagenos from different filmed performances of the opera. (I'll add more as I see them.)

*William Workman (Hamburg, 1971): The Innocent.

*Håkan Hagegård (Ingmar Bergman film, 1975): The Innocent, with undertones of the Sad Clown.

*Benjamin Luxon (Glyndebourne, 1977): The Peasant, with traces of the Innocent and the Sad Clown.

*Christian Boesch (Salzburg, 1982): A blend of the Innocent, the Peasant, and the Pecking Rooster, with undertones of the Sad Clown.

*John Fulford (Sydney, 1986): The Peasant.

*Mikael Samuelson (Drottningholm, 1989): The Odd Duck, with the earthiness of the Peasant.

*Manfred Hemm (the Met, 1991): The Innocent.

*Detlef Roth (Paris, 2001): A blend of the Innocent, the Odd Duck, and the Pecking Rooster.

*Simon Keenlyside (Covent Garden, 2003): The Sad Clown.

*Christian Gehaher (Salzburg, 2006): A blend of the Peasant and the Pecking Rooster, with hints of the Odd Duck.

*Nathan Gunn (the Met, 2006): A blend of the Peasant and the Odd Duck, with traces of the Pecking Rooster.

*Markus Werba (the Met, 2017): A blend of the Innocent and the Peasant, with traces of the Pecking Rooster.

Meanwhile, in my gender-bent retelling, An Eternal Crown, I think Lorikeet is a cross between the Innocent and the Odd Duck, with a few undertones of the Sad Clown.

I'd be interested to learn which portrayal(s) @leporellian is using for the anthropomorphic cat Papageno in their Magic Flute-inspired novel Song of the Sky.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @tuttocenere, @vogelfanger1984, @thealmightyemprex, @thevampiricnihal, @cjbolan

#opera #die zauberflöte #the magic flute #papageno #characterization #character types #comparison #patterns #fictional characters

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steddielations · 7 months ago

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- nsfw, age gap, rockstar Eddie, drummer steve

Eddie should not be wearing a plug here.

It’s stupid. It’s reckless. But that inner voice that led to decades of being stupid and reckless says it’s fine, it’s just for Eddie. Steve doesn’t have to know, unless he wants to find out.

It really is just for Eddie. It’s more for confidence than kink. It’s a trick he learned back when he was still getting comfortable on stage, back when he could still handle the fast life. Started way back when he was a teenager, dear old dad made sure to turn his talent into cold hard cash.

Now here Eddie is, way too many years of coping with drugs and never any therapy later, retired rockstar doing the whole studio owner mentoring baby rockstars thing. Someone’s gotta keep rock and roll alive so long as Eddie’s still kicking.

So the first thing that comes with years of being stone cold sober is realizing he spent too much time on the road and in the closet, not enough time growing roots so he’d have someone to settle down with when he stopped being so afraid of it.

The second thing is a dick that doesn’t work half the time because maybe if someone told him doing drugs would land him limp-dick at 40, he would’ve stopped sooner. The third thing is that he’s going to die alone with his floppy dick and trust issues.

So with the wild life Eddie lives nowadays, it’s no surprise that a couple smiles and smooth words from a good looking young drummer sent him into a spiral.

Steve’s a session musician, an independent guy that looked good on paper and even better in person. He’s got more heart and grit than the last few ‘frontmans’ Eddie tried to get something real out of. Steve knows it too, the way everyone does at 28.

He’s got the same cockiness in his skills as Eddie, but he knows he’s more than just his skills in a way that Eddie wishes he could’ve known at that age. He’s confident enough to make his own suggestions to Eddie, calls him old fashioned and he’s smooth about it, strikes up debates about music and he’s fucking sassy about it.

Eddie’s gotta be under some kinda spell to be considering Springsteen is one of the greats like Steve insists.

It’s not just because Steve’s younger, there’s always been girls much younger than late 20s trying to get with him for his name, status, money. Bless their hearts, maybe if he was still 20 years deep in the closet. It’s not just because Steve’s a guy either, there’s plenty of young guys now that dare to bat their eyes and call him Daddy and want to get fucked.

No, it’s because Steve’s different. The opposite, even.

Eddie slips up and calls him sweetheart once and it’s like Steve was just waiting to open that door and let every babe and handsome and honey slip out from his lips.

He notices Eddie checking out his biceps as he’s banging away on the drums once and sends him a wink that nearly makes him flatline.

He’s not intimidated to get in Eddie’s space. He has no reason to ever be in the control room, but Eddie doesn’t question it when Steve’s close, leaning over him with a warm hand pressed to the small of his back for one second. Eddie’s so hot faced and flustered that he gets his long hair caught in some of the board switches.

“Fuck, fucking, god damn it,” Eddie curses, tangling it even more trying to yank it free and vowing to chop it all off later.

“It’s alright, here, let's get you sorted out.” Steve’s steady hand closes over Eddie’s, gentle and warm as he eases the lock of hair free. Eddie’s breath lodges in his throat when Steve reaches up, fingers brushing Eddie’s face as he combs through his long silver streaked waves and says, “Don’t ever cut your hair. I love it too much.”

God. Steve makes Eddie feel like he’s a pretty young thing getting moves put on him in the kinda club that he was always too famous, too busy and too afraid to go to at that age.

It can’t be real. Steve can’t be serious. Eddie’s mean. Bitter. He talks shit about everyone and everything. He’s nothing without a guitar. He’s got the prickly rind of daddy issues and doesn’t even have Wayne to make it better anymore. The whole world adoring him all his life only fed his ego. He’s worth millions of dollars and feels like nothing most days. His only real friends are his bandmates that he doesn’t call often enough because they love each other, but they’re sick of each other, being stuck together all those years.

Surely, Steve’s just bored and playing with him. Eddie needs a kick of confidence to deal with it until Steve’s contract ends and he’s done playing with Eddie.

So that’s why Eddie’s got a plug up his ass at the studio. At work, technically.

It helps. It gives him all the inner fire he needs to ignore when he feels Steve’s eyes burning into him, and push his hand through his hair that Steve loves, and sway his hips as Steve’s gaze follows him walking out to the bathroom.

Oh yeah, Eddie’s still got it.

And he has to piss. Really bad. His bladder just ain’t what it used to be and when he’s gotta go, he’s gotta go and for whatever reason, he can’t do it with the plug inside him.

Eddie’s locked in a stall so he doesn’t hesitate to undo his belt and reach inside to pull it out. He holds it while he uses the toilet, so distracted sighing in relief like such an old man that he doesn’t realize how lube-slippery the thing is.

It’s too late. He drops his plug and it rolls out from under the stall just as the bathroom door opens and shuts slowly.

Then Eddie feels both relief and panic when it’s Steve’s voice that asks, “Eddie, did you drop something, honey?”

#no one look at me #the rest soon!!#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #subeddieweek #sub eddie week

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helen-with-an-a · 3 days ago

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Hello, Hope you are well!! If you wouldn't mind, I wanted to request Lucy x (Slightly older) reader where Like R is like a legend and transferred and is new on the team and Lucy is fan girling over R and after a Team Bonding night R drops (Drunk)Lucy Off and sees R's Poster on Lucy's room and teases Lucy until R Confesses that she likes her too {But still teases Lucy even after they are together?!?}🙂 Also maybe the Team Teasing Lucy whenever they get the chance? If you can't that's okay too!!

Hiiiiii - I think this is a pretty cute one ngl ahahahah. I hope you enjoy.

Posters

Lucy Bronze x reader

Description: A night out with the team ends up with some pretty intense teasing for Lucy

Word Count: 4.2k

Despite being the same age as Lucy, she had looked up to you with a sense of awe and admiration since you were both teenagers. Whilst she was at home, working her way through the ranks at Sunderland, you were living your best life. Even at just 14, you had achieved a level of success that was remarkable and unprecedented for someone so young. Your name became quickly associated with greatness, and you were widely celebrated as a breakout star.

At just 16 years old, you won your first Champions League title, signalling the start of an extraordinary career. By the time you turned 18, you had already earned FIFA Player of the Year twice, showcasing your exceptional talent and consistency on the field. At 20, you became the face of Nike football, a testament to your influence and popularity that extended beyond the pitch and into the world of sports branding.

By the age of 25, you had competed in every major European league, dominating each one with apparent ease and securing championship titles across the continent. Your unparalleled success continued wherever you went. You were the first female player to win the Ballon d’Or. This accolade was not a one-time feat, as you followed it up with your second at 28, and then, at 29, you added a third to your collection. Your career was marked by a series of extraordinary achievements that solidified your legacy as one of the greatest footballers of all time.

You were the best in the world. A once-in-a-lifetime player whose talent seemed almost otherworldly. Your name became synonymous with greatness, and your performances on the field transcended mere statistics, leaving fans and critics alike in awe. Each match you played was a masterclass in skill and artistry, and you had a unique ability to elevate the game to new heights, making even the most challenging moments look effortless.

Your influence extended beyond the game itself. Young players idolised you, aspiring to emulate your style and grace. Coaches studied your techniques, hoping to understand the secret behind your extraordinary prowess. The media frequently hailed you as the embodiment of football excellence, and your presence on the field brought an electric atmosphere that captivated audiences worldwide.

Your career wasn't just about the accolades and records; it was about the way you transformed the sport, inspiring a generation and leaving an indelible mark on football history. The impact you made went far beyond the pitch, cementing your place as a true legend and ensuring that your legacy would endure for years to come.

Lucy had long since given up the hope of becoming your friend. Despite sharing fleeting moments with you, such as occasional encounters on the field or brief interactions at award shows, these instances remained largely superficial and never evolved into anything more meaningful. Over time, the distance between your high-profile world and her own aspirations seemed insurmountable.

She watched from afar as you continued to soar to even greater heights, your life a whirlwind of achievements and global acclaim. Meanwhile, her own journey, while impressive in its own right, lacked the same extraordinary sparkle. The rare occasions when her path crossed yours only served to deepen her admiration and reinforce the divide between you.

That was until you stepped through the door at training one afternoon.

You were talking to one of the coaches, your gaze flicking over to the field as you spoke. He was gesturing to something, clearly outlining the training routines and schedules for you. You stood with a level of confidence Lucy had never seen before – poised, authoritative, and completely in control of the situation. It was as if the weight of your success had seamlessly blended with your demeanour, giving you an almost magnetic presence.

Lucy watched from a distance; her eyes drawn to the way you commanded the space around you. Your interaction with the coach was more than just a conversation; it was a display of your deep understanding of the game and your role within it. The coach's animated gestures and detailed explanations seemed almost secondary to your focused attention and effortless grasp of the concepts being discussed.

The ease with which you navigated the conversation and the genuine interest you showed in refining your skills spoke volumes about your dedication and professionalism. It was clear that your confidence was not just a facade but a reflection of years of hard work, discipline, and an unwavering commitment to excellence.

“Isn’t it exciting?” Alexia asked, her voice filled with enthusiasm as she came up behind Lucy.

Lucy turned, slightly startled by the sudden appearance of Alexia. “What is?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Alexia’s eyes lit up with a mix of awe and delight. “That she’s joining Barça. Can you believe it? After all these years of watching her play from afar, she’s finally coming to our team. It’s like a dream come true!”

Lucy’s gaze followed Alexia’s, and she saw the look of genuine excitement on her friend’s face. You were joining Barça. Lucy wasn’t quite sure how to feel – she had definitely had a teenage crush on you when she was younger, one that had never truly gone away. The news of your arrival stirred up a whirlwind of emotions inside her.

On one hand, there was a surge of admiration and nostalgia. She remembered how she used to watch your games with wide-eyed wonder, marvelling at your skill and the aura of greatness you exuded. The fact that you would soon be a teammate, sharing the same training grounds and wearing the same jersey, felt like something out of a dream she had long since tucked away.

On the other hand, there was a knot of apprehension and uncertainty. The distance she had kept from the idea of being close to you now seemed to shrink, and with it came a mix of excitement and unease. Would this new chapter challenge her in ways she hadn’t anticipated? Would she be able to reconcile her past feelings with the present reality of working alongside you?

Alexia continued, her excitement palpable. “I’ve admired her for so long. To think that she’s going to be playing alongside us, wearing the same jersey, sharing the same goals – it’s surreal. Her skill, her leadership, everything she brings to the game – having her on our side is going to be incredible. It’s going to elevate the whole team.”

Lucy nodded, though her mind was still swirling with mixed emotions. She could see Alexia’s enthusiasm was infectious, and the thought of you joining the team was stirring a buzz among everyone. The players would undoubtedly be thrilled, and the energy around the club was bound to shift, infused with the excitement and anticipation of having a player of your calibre among them.

Lucy’s thoughts drifted back to the early days of her own career, when she had idolised you from afar. The sense of awe she felt then hadn’t entirely faded; it had just evolved into a deep respect. Now, facing the reality of working with you, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of nerves. The fantasy of meeting you was becoming a tangible reality, and with it came the challenge of managing her own expectations and fears.

Alexia’s voice pulled her back to the present. “You know, this is such an amazing opportunity for all of us. We’re going to learn so much from her. I just hope the transition goes smoothly, for everyone’s sake. It’s a big change, but I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Lucy managed a small smile. “Yeah, it’s definitely a big change. I’m sure it will be an incredible experience, both on and off the field.”

As Alexia went on about the potential benefits of your arrival and how it might reshape the team dynamics, Lucy listened with half an ear, her thoughts still preoccupied over you.

“And, this is our Capitana, Alexia. And one of your defenders, Lucy.” The coach’s voice cut through Lucy’s daydreaming, and she refocused on the present moment.

You turned toward them with a warm smile. “Hi, Alexia. It’s so nice to meet you – I can’t believe we’re finally playing together. I’ve been watching you for years, and the way you play is just incredible.”

Alexia’s cheeks flushed a shade of pink, and she waved off the compliment with a modest smile. “Oh, stop it. You’re too kind.”

Turning to Lucy, you offered a friendly nod. “And Lucy, it’s great to see you again. Another player that I’m so excited to share the field with – thankfully this time we aren’t against each other,” you laughed, the genuine warmth in your voice making the compliment feel even more sincere. Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you took in the players around you, clearly thrilled by the prospect of joining the team.

The way you spoke was disarmingly genuine, and despite the whirlwind of emotions she had been feeling, your kind words helped ground her. She forced a smile, trying to project the confidence she felt was expected of her. “N-nice to see you too,” she stammered slightly.

If you picked up on her nerves, you didn’t mention it, just offering another warm smile and a wave as you were directed over to some more of the coaches. The interaction was brief, but it left Lucy with a lingering sense of awe and a slight blush of her own. She watched as you moved to the other coaches, your demeanour effortlessly blending into the environment with a natural ease.

It was the final match before the winter break, and the team had decided to go out to celebrate. The atmosphere in the locker room was electric, buzzing with the excitement of a hard-fought victory and the anticipation of the festivities to come. The victory had been decisive, and you had once again proven your worth with a standout performance, seamlessly integrating into the team both on and off the field.

As the players gathered to head out, Lucy watched you interact effortlessly with the team. It was as if you had been a part of their close-knit group for years rather than just a few months. Your ease of integration was remarkable; you laughed and joked with teammates, participated in the banter, and showed genuine interest in getting to know everyone. Your natural charisma and humility had won you the respect and affection of the entire squad.

The venue for the celebration was a lively restaurant known for its vibrant atmosphere and delicious food. The place was decked out with festive decorations, adding to the sense of occasion. As the team settled into a large, cheerful table, the mood was one of camaraderie and shared joy. You were at the centre of many conversations, easily blending with everyone while also standing out for your infectious energy.

Lucy found herself seated across from you, and as the evening progressed, she noticed how you effortlessly drew people into conversations and made everyone feel included. You shared stories and laughed heartily, making the environment warm and welcoming. The way you interacted with everyone reaffirmed the positive impression you had made since joining the team.

You looked stunning. Just a simple pair of jeans and a basic top, a light jacket thrown over your shoulders effortlessly. The understated outfit seemed to highlight your natural grace and confidence rather than overshadow it. Even in such a casual setting, you exuded a charm that drew people in, a combination of ease and sophistication that made it clear you were at home in any situation.

The restaurant was bustling with energy as the team enjoyed their night out, but you seemed to be the centrepiece of the evening’s vibrancy. Your relaxed attire only enhanced your approachable demeanour, making it easy for everyone to feel comfortable around you. You moved through the crowd with an effortless grace, engaging in conversations and making everyone feel included.

It was Patri who suggested going back to someone’s house to continue the evening. The idea of extending the celebration was met with enthusiastic agreement from the group, and you volunteered without hesitation. “My place is just around the corner,” you offered, “and I have plenty of space. If anyone doesn’t want to make the journey home so late, there are a few spare rooms where you can crash.”

The team responded with grateful cheers and excited murmurs, clearly relieved and thrilled by the prospect of keeping the good times rolling in such a comfortable setting. Your offer was met with a warm sense of appreciation, and it was clear that your generosity only added to the positive impression you had already made.

Lucy had never been to your flat before, but as she stepped inside, it was exactly as she had imagined. The space exuded a sophisticated, understated elegance, effortlessly blending clean lines, neutral tones, and subtle textures. The overall effect was a serene and inviting atmosphere that made everyone feel immediately at ease.

The open-plan living area was a testament to your keen eye for design and comfort. Soft, natural light filtered through large windows, casting a warm glow over the room. The walls were painted in calming shades of beige and grey, creating a backdrop that highlighted the minimalist décor. Tasteful artwork and decorative elements added character without overwhelming the space, each piece chosen with care to complement the room’s aesthetic.

The furniture was arranged to maximise both style and comfort. The couches were wide and inviting, their plush cushions beckoning anyone in need of relaxation. Each couch was adorned with cozy, coloured blankets that were draped artfully over the back, adding both warmth and a touch of casual elegance.

As Lucy looked around, she couldn’t help but admire how every detail seemed to reflect your personal style – sophisticated yet approachable, elegant yet functional. It was clear that you valued comfort and created a space where people could feel relaxed and welcome.

“Woah, chica, this is so fancy,” Pina whistled, her eyes wide as she took in the sophisticated design of your flat.

“Thank you, Cláudia,” you smiled bashfully, a hint of modesty in your tone. “Please, sit, sit. I’ve got a few bottles of wine if people want some?”

The room erupted into appreciative murmurs as the team began to relax into the comfortable seating. Alexia and some of the others made their way to the couches, eagerly claiming spots and settling in with the provided blankets. The initial excitement of the evening’s celebration had transitioned seamlessly into a cozy, laid-back atmosphere.

You moved towards the kitchen, where a selection of wine bottles stood neatly arranged on the counter, alongside a few glasses. “Feel free to help yourselves,” you called out to the group, opening a bottle of red wine and pouring a glass for yourself. “I’ve also got some snacks if anyone wants some.”

It took a few more bottles of wine for the drinking games to start. The initial energy of the evening had settled into a more relaxed and jovial atmosphere, and as the wine flowed, the team’s spirits were high. Mapí, always one for lively fun, suggested a game of Truths, a slightly toned-down version of her earlier proposal of Truth or Dare, which had been kindly but firmly shut down by you and some of the more sober members of the group.

The players arranged themselves in a circle, with the bottles of wine and snacks now placed within easy reach. The game was simple: each person would take turns answering a question posed by the group, revealing something personal or amusing about themselves.

“Hmmm, bueno, bueno,” Mapí mused, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leaned back, contemplating her next move. The room quieted slightly, everyone waiting in anticipation as she took her time, savouring the moment and clearly enjoying the power of choosing her next victim.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her gaze drifting around the circle, lingering on each teammate as she weighed her options. The suspense was palpable, and a few players shifted nervously, laughing as they tried to avoid her stare.

Finally, a sly smile spread across her face as she settled on her target. “Alright,” she began, drawing out the word for dramatic effect, “let’s see... Lucy, you’re up.”

The room erupted into playful jeers and cheers, everyone eager to hear what Mapí would come up with. Lucy felt a mix of excitement and apprehension as all eyes turned toward her.

"Hmmmm, déjame pensar. Lucía, did you have any embarrassing things on your wall as a kid?"

Lucy’s eyes snapped to Keira’s, a mixture of panic and amusement flashing across her face. There were only one other person in the room who knew what Lucy’s teenage bedroom looked like. Keira, catching the look, had the decency to look a little sheepish, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she offered Lucy an apologetic smile.

The room buzzed with anticipation, everyone leaning in a little closer as they sensed something good was about to be revealed.

Lucy felt the heat rising to her cheeks as the room seemed to close in on her. There was no escape, no quick-witted response that could save her from the inevitable reveal. She glanced around, hoping for some miracle that would shift the attention elsewhere, but all she saw were eager faces waiting for her answer.

“Uhhhh,” she stammered, desperately trying to think of a reasonable lie, something that could divert the situation without being too obvious.

But before she could come up with anything, Cata chimed in with a playful, “No mientas, chica.” Her voice was teasing, but there was a knowing edge to it, and it was clear that the team wasn’t going to let her off the hook easily.

Lucy sighed, knowing the game was up. She glanced at Keira one last time, who gave her an encouraging nod, as if to say, "Just go for it."

“Alright, fine,” Lucy conceded, her voice tinged with resignation. “So, when I was a teenager, I went through a phase – like, a pretty intense phase – where I was really into...uh, collecting posters of my favourite players.”

The room was silent, everyone hanging on her every word. Lucy could feel the tension building, and she knew there was no turning back now.

“And,” she continued, her voice dropping to almost a whisper, “I might have had a whole wall – like, literally an entire wall – covered with posters of one particular player.”

The room buzzed with excitement, and Lucy could see the curiosity in everyone’s eyes. They wanted to know who it was, and she knew she couldn’t keep it a secret any longer.

Taking a deep breath, Lucy finally confessed, “It was you,” she said, looking directly at you, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I had a whole wall dedicated to you – posters, pictures, everything.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

Mapí was the first to pounce, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “So, Lucy,” she started, dragging out the words, “how many hours a day did you spend staring at those posters? Were they strategically placed for optimal viewing from your bed?”

The room erupted again, and Lucy buried her face in her hands, laughing despite herself. “I’m never living this down, am I?” she groaned, peeking through her fingers.

“Not a chance,” Pina chimed in, grinning widely. “Did you, like, kiss them goodnight before you went to sleep? Or, wait – did you have one of those cardboard cutouts too?”

“That would explain why she’s always so focused during training,” Patri added, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “She’s just imagining all those hours she spent studying her idol.”

Keira, who had been trying to stay out of it, finally joined in, unable to resist. “I seem to remember there being a shrine,” she teased, giving Lucy a playful nudge. “Candles, flowers, the whole works.”

“Oh, come on!” Lucy protested, laughing as she shook her head. “It wasn’t that bad!”

“Are you sure about that?” Alexia interjected, raising an eyebrow with a mock-serious expression. “Because I’m starting to think we should all be worried about having our own little shrines in your room.”

This set everyone off again, and the teasing only grew from there. “Maybe we should ask her to rank us by who gets the biggest poster,” Cata joked, making the others chuckle.

“And don’t forget about the life-size cutout!” Jana added, winking. “We need to know who gets that honour.”

Lucy’s face was practically on fire now, the heat of embarrassment spreading from her cheeks down to her neck. Despite her best efforts to hide behind her hands, there was no escaping the relentless teasing from her teammates.

Mapí, sensing victory, leaned in even closer. “Come on, Lucy, spill the details! How many posters were there? Ten? Twenty? Did you have them laminated to preserve them forever?”

“I bet she had a whole wall dedicated to just action shots,” Ona added, mimicking a dramatic pose as if she were in mid-kick. “You know, to capture all those intense game moments.”

“Oh, and don’t forget the magazine cutouts,” Pina chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You probably had a collage, right? Like, an artistic masterpiece showcasing your favourite goals and interviews.”

Lucy groaned, burying her face in her hands even deeper. “You guys are killing me,” she mumbled, though her voice was laced with laughter. “It was just a few posters, okay? And no, there was no shrine or candles!”

Keira wasn’t about to let her off that easily. “But you did kiss them goodnight, right? Or maybe whisper some words of encouragement before a big game?” she teased, nudging Lucy playfully.

“Yeah, something like, ‘Goodnight, future teammate. One day we’ll share the field,’” Cata added with a dramatic flair, sending the room into another fit of giggles.

Lucy shook her head, her laughter mingling with the groans of embarrassment. “I swear, you’re all the worst. But fine, if it makes you feel any better, I may have...talked to them once or twice. Happy now?”

The room erupted in cheers and applause, everyone raising their glasses in a toast to Lucy’s admission.

“See, that’s what we were looking for!” Mapí declared, raising her glass higher. “To Lucy, the most dedicated fan out there!”

It wasn’t long until the evening came to an end – yawns were happening far too frequently, and the once lively conversation had started to slow. The team had moved from playful banter to quieter, more subdued chats as the effects of the long day and a few too many glasses of wine began to set in.

Mapí stretched her arms above her head, letting out a dramatic yawn. “Alright, I think that’s my cue. I’m officially too old for these late nights,” she joked, earning a few chuckles from the group.

“Same here,” Alexia agreed, rubbing her eyes. “I’m off to Ibiza tomorrow and I’d rather not be dragging my feet.”

You, noticing the collective weariness, stood up and clapped your hands lightly to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone, it looks like it’s time to call it a night. For those of you staying over, feel free to crash on the couches or take one of the spare rooms. I’ve got blankets and pillows in the closet.”

“Thanks for hosting, really,” Patri said with a warm smile, getting up from her seat. “This was fun, and we should definitely do it again sometime.”

You smiled back, feeling a sense of contentment. “Anytime. I’m glad you all came.”

One by one, the team members began to gather their things, exchanging sleepy goodnights as they prepared to head out or settle in for the night. Lucy, who had been quieter since the teasing had died down, stood up and stretched, feeling the exhaustion in her muscles.

As she moved toward the door, you caught her eye and gave her a gentle smile. “You okay, Lucy?” you asked, your tone soft and genuine.

Lucy nodded, a bit of her earlier embarrassment still lingering, but she couldn’t help but return your smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for having us over. It was...fun,” she said, a hint of shyness creeping into her voice. You chuckled softly.

“Y’know,” you began slowly, your voice soft and almost hesitant as you broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you. Lucy looked up, her attention caught by the unexpected seriousness in your tone. “If it makes you feel any better…” You let the words hang in the air for a moment, building a quiet suspense. Then, with a small, almost playful smile, you took a deliberate step closer, closing the gap between you.

“I had a crush on you too,” you admitted, your voice carrying a mix of sincerity and light-heartedness.

Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise, her breath catching for a split second. “You did?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

“I did,” you confirmed with a nod, your smile growing a little wider as you watched the realisation dawn on her. “Maybe not to the extent of a shrine on my wall,” you teased, your eyes sparkling with amusement, “but there was definitely more than a childhood crush.”

Lucy’s cheeks flushed with colour, her mind racing as she processed your words. “Really?” she asked, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips, the idea of you reciprocating those long-ago feelings both thrilling and a little overwhelming, a secret wish she never thought would come true.

“Really,” you replied, your voice soft and full of sincerity.

With a tenderness that contradicted the intensity of the emotions swirling inside you, you placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. The soft brush of your lips against her skin was electric, a quiet confession of everything you hadn’t said out loud. It was a moment suspended in time, where everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you and the possibilities that lay ahead.

When you pulled back, your smile was warm, laced with a mixture of affection and bittersweetness. “Bye, Lucia,” you whispered, your voice carrying the promise of something more as you took a step back, giving her one last lingering look.

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datingnewgirls · 2 months ago

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des-etoiles-et-du-cafe · 1 month ago

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queensunshinee · 2 months ago

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His favorite toy- Part 4 || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex), our favorite toxic relationship is back.

Word Count: 6.1k

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

This one can stand on its own, but I recommend reading the rest :)

His favorite toy- Part 4:

"What are you doing here?" I tried to sound composed. My heart couldn't stop racing at a speed I never wanted it to beat again. A speed reserved for one person only. And no matter how many years passed or how out of place he would seem in my world, Art Donaldson entered my life like he was the boss. Like he was paying my salary. With exaggerated confidence and an aura that made me blush. A smile that made my lips tremble.

I was painfully aware that my mascara was smudged after a too-long day, and that I had taken my shirt out of my skirt after lunch. Painfully aware that I had taken off my shoes an hour ago because pacing around the room in heels made it hard to think. Painfully aware that he was seeing me in all my flaws now. Years after the last time we met, and he was just as smug.

"I was in the area, and Patrick mentioned something about you working around here..." he said, as if everything in that sentence made sense. As if the fact that I stayed in touch with Patrick made sense. I nodded, trying to somehow control this ridiculous situation. I'm not supposed to react this chaotically to Art Donaldson. I'm 28. I'm not a 19-year-old girl. I do morning meditations. I drink green smoothies and ginger shots. I'm a fucking queen. But I don't feel particularly royal when I remember the coffee stain on my shirt, or the half-eaten avocado sandwich I bought from the café downstairs. It was awful. Both the sandwich and the café. I’m pretty sure the regular barista hates me because once I corrected one of my orders. Ever since, he's been out to get me. It’s a nightmare. I've considered changing jobs more times than I'd like to admit because of it.

"That sounds... completely normal," I mumbled, and he chuckled in response. One of his legs found its natural place over the other, and his fingers played with one of his billion rings in a disturbingly nonchalant way. "Is a tennis player supposed to have that many rings?" I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, knowing how stupid it sounded. Hating myself a little for how stupid it sounded. "I don’t play with them, and they’re beautiful," he shrugged. "They’re ridiculous," I rolled my eyes, trying to recover from this topic of conversation. "Yours is ridiculous," he shot back playfully, looking directly at my ring. At the small diamond (Art probably thinks it’s too small- well, fuck him).

"Oh, this?" I asked, and now we were both looking at it. I liked it until about three seconds ago. Until he walked into the room and stared at it like it was filled with snake venom. It felt like it weighed as much as my entire body. It felt like it was burning my hand from the inside. My blood boiled beneath it, reminding me that all my plans just went to hell. A reminder that I was crazy to even try making plans. "It’s pretty, delicate," I could hear the mockery in his tone. No matter how many years passed, I would always recognize every nuance in his voice. Every rise and fall in octaves. Every unnecessary affectation. He smiled the way he did when he tried to get under my skin—five minutes hadn’t passed, and he’d already succeeded. How embarrassing. What a failure as a person. A failure as a woman. A failure to feminism. Sitting in my office with a coffee stain on my shirt, while my ex from college critiques my choices like some kind of fraudulent fortune-teller. Like God sent him to help me make some life-changing decision.

"Why are you here?" I asked again, trying to maintain control and not snap at him. After all, we hadn’t spoken in nearly a decade. What good would it do to lash out at him? What would it accomplish to tell him about the therapy sessions, about the years I didn’t believe anything good was coming my way at all? About the fact that because of him, I didn’t believe I could ever be anyone’s first choice. "Why did you stay in touch with Patrick?" he asked, and for a moment, it sounded like his tough mask cracked. Like his defenses crumbled and his heart was laid bare. Like we were 20 again, and he was holding my face, explaining how scared he was to let me go.

"He insisted," I shrugged. The day after that party, Tashi's accident happened. Some would call it karma, but I’d say it was just bad luck. Because even though she hurt me without even knowing my name, I never wanted her career to end before it even began. And everyone was sad that day—Patrick, because he felt guilty, Tashi, because her knee twisted in the air, and Art, because he lost a friend and the girl who forgave him for all his bullshit. Aka me. But he won what really mattered. He got Tashi. Patrick found me that day in the library, refusing to wallow in my own misery, and somehow, he managed to entwine his miserable life with mine. He managed to secure a spot on my couch from time to time. He managed to impress me with lame jokes about his pathetic life, or maybe about mine.

And life didn’t turn out the way I planned. I didn’t discover a cure for cancer or make it to space by age 25. My apartment was crappy. So fucking crappy. But there were funny moments, and I only occasionally followed Art’s career. I only followed his love life when his face and Tashi’s were plastered on billboards. That could never have been me. It would never have worked. It wasn’t meant to be, I’d tell myself every time I was filled with self-pity. Every time I worked a temporary job selling skincare products or transcribing lectures for students. Every time I felt lost. I knew he wouldn’t have settled for someone like me in the long run.

He and Patrick made up two years ago, which was ironic. Because what’s the point of maintaining my friendship with Patrick if not to have at least one person in my life who understands the pain of knowing Art Donaldson? Of knowing that once, he was a part of your life, and it felt amazing. Almost unreal. Almost spiritual. But they made up, and Patrick promised me he wouldn’t talk about me with the smug bastard sitting in front of me right now. He promised and didn’t keep it. Well, here’s someone who’s never eating pasta at the restaurant near my place on my dime ever again.

"He insisted?" Art looked amused, and I just shrugged again in response. I knew he wanted more details, but I wanted him to take a headfirst dive into a volcano. Desires are ridiculous. "He insisted," I repeated, and this time he laughed. Actually laughed. "It's like you two have a contract not to tell me anything. How am I supposed to work with that?" He spoke as if we’d been friends for years. As if there hadn’t been a rupture, a break, and devastation. As if I didn’t have the image of him leaving me at that party seared into my brain. As if my heart hadn’t shattered into pieces because of him more times than I could count.

"I want you to handle my money," he suddenly said. "Excuse me?" I raised an eyebrow, looking at him as if he'd lost a lobe of his brain. "You're a financial advisor, right? Be my financial advisor," he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, all while glancing at the pathetic office I was sitting in. "You don’t want me to be your financial advisor, Art," I almost snorted in disbelief. "You haven’t spoken to me in ten years, and now you know what I want?" he asked, allowing himself to raise an eyebrow in return. "This is a big firm; I can recommend someone who’d be happy to take you on," I tried to fake a smile. "I'll go to your boss and tell him I’m willing to let only you handle my account, and that you’re refusing. I’m sure he’d be thrilled. I Googled him—Albert looks like a guy who’d love to lose a wealthy client," and I saw that spark in his eyes. Challenging. Almost childish. The kind that said, 'Let’s see what you do. You’ll lose.'

"That’s a terrible idea," I declared. "Keeping in touch with Patrick and not me is a terrible idea. Managing my investments will give you some good money," he said, gesturing with his hands, and for the first time, I realized how big his hands were. "Are you bored with your life, Donaldson?" I asked, trying to figure out what I was dealing with here. "Come on, Peaches, you have to admit you missed me, at least a little." And for a change, his smile was genuine. He looked like every word I said could hurt him. "Like I miss my appendix," I rolled my eyes, and he laughed. "I’m looking forward to working with you." He suddenly stood up and extended his hand for a handshake, as if that wasn’t utterly ridiculous. "I’m looking forward to it like a deer looks forward to being eaten by a lion. It’s on my wish list," I said, and he just laughed again. A laugh that was too real. The kind that made tears gather in his eyes.

An hour after he left my dingy office, my heart was still racing at an unreasonable pace. The kind that made me wonder if there was a defibrillator in the building. I tried to remember if I shook his hand at the end of the meeting. I couldn’t. . . . As he left your office, Art felt like he does after a long tennis match. One that he won. A thought detached from reality, but he allowed himself those kinds of thoughts now. He was a new person. He believed in victories before they even happened. And seeing you after so many years in real life, not in blurry Facebook pictures, felt like a victory. You hadn’t changed much. The years had even given you a more sophisticated look—subtle yet full of curves. Your eyes still looked at him with that same spark. With a glimmer of something he could never quite put his finger on. But he wanted to conquer it. He wanted to win.

When Patrick and he reconnected, it was alongside the problems that only began in his relationship with Tashi. Alongside Lily’s birth, alongside the intrusive thoughts that had plagued him all his life, he wondered if it was a mistake. But Patrick was Patrick, and when he insisted on something, he got his way. And for Patrick, he and Art had to reconnect. So they did. Slowly, gradually. He wasn’t his best friend anymore, of course. But sometimes Art thought he was his only friend. Which was strange, because he was always surrounded by people. Tashi was supposed to be his best friend, but she never was. She made it clear more than once that it was a ridiculous notion.

One night, as he and Patrick were having beers at some sketchy bar, Patrick casually mentioned that you and he were good friends. Art looked at him as if he’d fallen from the moon. He wanted to punch him. He hadn’t expected that. It felt like someone had punched him in the chest and knocked all the air out of his lungs. Patrick got over Tashi and settled for you? You weren’t supposed to be a compromise. Art wouldn’t allow that. He’d go to war if he had to. He had no grounds for such a war, but you were too good to settle for Patrick. You were too good to settle for anyone, really.

He quickly realized that things between you and Patrick were platonic. Or at least that’s what the guy sitting across from him kept repeating, but Art wasn’t fully convinced. Everything was too mysterious. Patrick kept too much information to himself. He didn’t share anything with Art about your life, and the more Patrick kept things hidden, the more obsessed Art became.

And it wasn’t weird that he checked if you’d posted a new status on Facebook almost as often as he checked if his infant daughter needed anything. It wasn’t weird that he searched for you on Instagram. It wasn’t weird that he looked through the profiles of all 67 people you followed and hated most of them. Because you didn’t follow him, and millions of people did. You could have followed, and he wouldn’t have even noticed—allegedly.

"She got engaged," Patrick said one day, throwing it into the air as if he were talking about his grocery list. Art stared at him, blinking, trying to process the information. Who’s the person responsible for this? Who’s the person who took you away, and why do you think he deserves forever with you? What kind of thought is that—that someone else deserves forever with you? That someone gets to have a picnic in the park with you. To pick you up for dates. To share a house with you. There’s someone who’s going to be the father of your kids. Who picked out a ring for you. Who’s going to make sure your dreams come true. Art doesn’t know what your dreams are. But he doesn’t want to think about it.

"Is he a good guy?" Art knew that was what he was supposed to ask. That’s what social norms demanded. "I’ve sat with them a few times when they were together. He’s kind and funny, and I think he loves her," Patrick shrugged, as if that’s all it takes to be with you. "Well, I’m happy for her," Art took a gulp of whiskey, too big, letting the drink burn its way down his throat. Patrick looked at him like he didn’t believe him. His problem, Art thought. Let him believe whatever he wants.

That night, Art opened your Instagram while Tashi was asleep. There wasn’t a picture of a ring or a tag of some guy. Tashi got annoyed because of the phone light. Art apologized.

That was almost six months ago. Since then, his life had changed because he and Tashi decided to keep their relationship strictly professional. It was for both of their benefit, though he wasn’t entirely sure how much it benefited him. He was still learning how to function without her. He was still learning how to communicate effectively. He was still trying to bridge the dissonance that came with going home to an empty house, yet navigating press conferences as if he were happily married.

In two weeks, even that charade would end. And he wasn’t sure what he was even fighting for. Because they weren’t truly happy. And you were in his thoughts enough for it to count as emotional cheating if he were married. So he let Tashi go. He was much less broken than he had imagined he would be without her.

'I’m looking forward to working with you.' -Art- He couldn’t resist sending the message. Maybe ten at night was too late. Maybe you were already asleep. Maybe your fiancé was with you, trying to love you. Maybe Art was intruding.

He didn’t particularly care if he was. . . . "I’m going to kill you," I said into the phone, hearing Patrick's rolling laughter. "You're exaggerating—" he began, trying to save his ass. "We had one rule! Just one, Patrick!" I found myself pacing the bedroom while Alec worked in the living room. This was the day after the meeting with Art Donaldson. "He lives in New York and he’s divorced. I felt like a jerk not telling him where you work when he asked so nicely," Patrick’s voice sounded genuine. "He's not divorced," I rolled my eyes. I would know if Art were divorced. His and Tashi's faces are plastered all over this stinking city.

"They’re finalizing things in about a week and a half. There will be a press conference and everything. It’s going to be a big deal," he said, as if it were common knowledge. As if I should already know this. "Sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. That wasn’t cool," he added, and I could hear him biting into something, probably an apple. "We’re supposed to be a team. You can’t prioritize Art Donaldson’s interests over mine. I fed you when you were half-homeless," I declared. "I still prioritize your interests, drama queen," he continued speaking lightly, as if I had no reason to feel like my world was crumbling. "How is this prioritizing my interests? I’m going to manage his money. I’m going to handle his investments, Patrick. I’m going to see his stupid face every time he wants, as part of my job. Because of you! This is your fault!" I found myself stopping for a moment in the room, almost stomping my foot in frustration. Years of self-work going down the drain.

"Everything okay, Bunny?" I heard Alec's voice from the living room. "Yeah, I’m just talking to Patrick," I replied, steadying my voice into something more composed and responsible. So he’d keep thinking I had my life together. "Tell him 'hi,'" Alec said, and I could only guess he’d put his headphones back on. "Well, hi," I rolled my eyes, returning to the conversation with the chief idiot. "I’m sorry," Patrick mumbled after a few seconds of silence, and I hung up, sprawling on the bed like a starfish. He didn’t sound sorry.

I sat down next to Alec on the couch, wearing just my bra and panties with an open button-down shirt over it. Sexy enough for any stranger peeking through the window. A teenage boy's wet dream. I’m on fire. He kept staring at his screen, ignoring my existence. I started placing small kisses along his neck, trying to set the mood. Trying to seal the deal. Trying not to think about the one-who-shall-not-be-named. Trying to be a good woman. Trying to conquer feminism with mediocre sex, just like Alec and I know how to deliver. "I really have to finish this, Bunny," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably, making me sigh, lean back, and roll my eyes. "How long will it take?" I asked. "You’ll probably be asleep by then. Watch an episode of your favorite show instead," he said without looking at me. "Can we talk about the wedding?" I tried another angle. "If I don’t have time to make love to you, I definitely don’t have time to plan the wedding," he said, slipping those hideous—massive—headphones back on, ending the conversation. I kind of hated that he never said "fuck" or "have sex" or even used the word "sex" in general. He always treated it like I was Princess Diana. I am clearly not Princess Diana. Sometimes I wonder if he even wants to marry me at all. It’s been over six months since he proposed, and he’s been dodging setting a date since practically the same day. It’s very frustrating. I need to meditate.

"Bunny," he suddenly said, and I looked at him expectantly while he removed his headphones after I’d already started heading to the bedroom, "you have a stain on your shirt." He quickly put his headphones back on, eyes glued to the screen. At least the soup I had for lunch managed to fuck me today. . . . "You can't just show up here," I said as I tried to finish chewing the terrible sandwich I’d chosen today. I think it had mold. "If you had answered my messages, we could’ve scheduled something without me showing up at your office." Art looked good. So fucking good. It was frustrating. Today was the day I decided to skip the contacts and wear glasses. God hates me. But on the other hand, God was trying to help me—making sure Art Donaldson never gets attracted to me. God is on my side. I knew she was a feminist.

"What do you want?" I mumbled in surrender, knowing he wouldn’t leave until he said whatever he came to say so we could all move on with our lives. "To talk business," he smiled from ear to ear. "I'm eating right now, come back in half an hour," I replied, "or better yet, schedule a meeting like a rational human being." I continued pressing my point. "Better idea, let's go grab lunch and talk business over food." He looked at me like a dad who just told his little girl what her next hour is going to look like. "Sorry, I can't—" "Art Donaldson! When I got your email, I couldn't believe it," Albert burst into my office excitedly. Sure, let’s invite everyone. Apparently, there’s free cookies being handed out. All are welcome.

Art kept wearing his unbearable poster smile while Albert went on and on about tennis and how much he loved Rafael Nadal. Albert is clearly a man with vast general knowledge. "She treating you right?" Albert asked Art as if they were best friends, and now they both stared at me while all I wanted was to finish my food-poisoning sandwich in peace. "She just agreed to join me for lunch to talk about my money," Art said, and if looks could kill, Art Donaldson would’ve had a stroke right there and disappeared from our lives as suddenly as he appeared. But no, looks don’t kill, and feminist God apparently isn’t on my side anymore because now I’m sitting across from this asshole at a diner. I ordered a burger because I knew he’d never allow himself to eat one and would whine for hours about how he wants to eat a burger every day but can’t.

"I hope that's okay," I smiled one of the fakest smiles I could muster, blinking as I took a bite of the slab of meat in front of me. "Mmm, it's amazing," I sighed, watching for a moment as he stared at me, mouth half-open, eyes sparkling. "You're cruel," he stated after shaking his head, as if shaking off urges. He looked different with short hair. I always told him he needed to cut it because it kept falling into his eyes, but his curls had a youthful playfulness that was clearly missing now. He looked defeated.

"So, what did you want to talk about? What are you looking to invest in?" I tried to focus on the reason behind this ridiculous meal while Art stole a fry from my plate and picked at the sad grilled chicken he had ordered. Maybe I should stop making those satisfied sounds when I eat. "You," he said, biting his lip like a kid who let a curse word slip in front of his mom. Testing boundaries. Watching as I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to let you waste my time, Donaldson," and we both knew I wasn’t just talking about business. Because honestly? Fuck business. Art didn’t seem like someone who was planning to disappear from my life anytime soon. He had shown up too determined for that to happen. "I have no intention of wasting your time, Peaches," he smiled, leaning back, relaxing a little after we established this basic ground rule. He continued stealing my food.

"So, tell me about him," he suddenly said after insisting I order an enormous ice cream that was supposed to be just for me. Every time his spoon got closer, mine heroically fought it off. "Who?" I asked, taking a spoonful of ice cream and leaving it in my mouth for a few seconds. His gaze immediately locked on my ring. "We're not that kind of friends, Donaldson," I said, watching as he inched his spoon toward my ice cream, and I quickly blocked him. No chance. "So what kind of friends are we?" he asked, smiling, looking half at me and half at our spoons, still battling each other. "I don't know," I sighed a little, finally lowering my spoon in defeat. There’s no point in fighting. It’s truly a lost cause.

The more Art Donaldson entered my life, the more Alec distanced himself from it. Art did it in a quiet way, almost eerily so. It started with deep conversations about financial investments he wanted to make. About charity events he wanted to be part of. A foundation he wanted to establish. He talked about his money as if it made sense to be this rich at his age. As if he and I were on the same level in terms of lifestyle. He never once acted condescending about it, even though I expected him to. Even though I had prepared arguments in advance. He never once asked why I didn’t continue in academia or why I gave up on medicine. He didn’t poke at that wound. Even though he could have. Even though it would’ve been easy.

It continued with stupid messages in the middle of the day about how he was hungry, tired, or wanted to go home. Messages about seeing a guy dressed as a bear in the middle of the street. Fucking New York. He’d ask questions about my day. Ask what I ate. If I ate. If I was drinking enough water. Never anything too deep. Never out of nosy curiosity. If I forgot who he was, I might’ve thought he cared about me. I know, it’s unbelievable.

One time, he called me at seven in the evening, talking such nonsense that I wondered if he was drunk. I wondered out loud, of course, because I’m not 19, and I’m not afraid to tell Art Donaldson what I think. He wasn’t drunk. He made dinner and decided to call. He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Said it, and then went on about his day. About Lily. About how she was adjusting to splitting her time between his place and Tashi’s. He talked about Patrick and told me what he was cooking. It was domestic. Like I was a part of his life. Weird.

Alec and I were in the middle of a fight that made me wonder if I was mentally strong enough not to throw the vase that was sitting on the dresser. Not at him. I’m not violent. On the floor, to make a point. “Do you even want to marry me?” I suddenly asked. Because at that point, I no longer knew what was happening. I don’t like not knowing what’s happening. “Of course I wa-” “To who the hell is it obvious? Do you know how embarrassing it is when people ask me about a wedding date almost a year later, and I change the subject?!” I cut him off. “Every time I try to bring it up, you’d rather talk about light fixtures or that time we randomly had an hour-long conversation about types of doors.” I reminded him of some of the truly bizarre moments we’ve had recently. “We do need to replace the door.” I shot him a look that should’ve made it clear that if he kept going with that sentence, I was breaking the vase on the floor.

“Why don’t you want to fuck me anymore?” I suddenly asked. Almost defeated after too much yelling. “What? Bunny-” he blushed. The question was too brutal for him. Too raw for his delicate soul, which couldn’t handle talking about sex. “I can count on one hand how many times we’ve fucked since you proposed,” I said it as bluntly as I could, enjoying his discomfort. “We don’t have to make love every day,” he mumbled. Last time I checked, to make love, there has to be love. I threw the vase. Alec left the house. . . . ‘You’re not at work.’ – A –

‘How is it that we’re back to you not answering me?’ – A –

‘Did you secretly get married over the weekend?’ – A –

‘Seriously, get back to me. It’s about the charity event.’ – A –

The bitter truth was that I was busy wallowing in the current failure of my life- Alec. I binge-watched all the seasons of The O.C. in three days and ate more ice cream than should be legal. But I didn’t feel the pain in my bones the way you’re supposed to when ending what was supposed to be the relationship. I’d once hurt more over losing someone who loved me less.

‘Are you okay? You’ve got our mutual friend worried.’ – P – He talked about Art like he was a spy. ‘Hey, could you stop being an idiot for a second and just answer to say you’re alive?’ – P –

‘I’m calling the fire department to check your apartment.’ – P –

‘This is concerning.’ – P –

‘I’ll call your mom. She’d love to hear from me after that time I burped in her face.’ – P –

‘I broke up with Alec.’ – (Y/N)–

‘You’re not going to die alone.’ – P –

‘I know you think you will, but you won’t.’ – P –

‘You can’t know that.’ – (Y/N) –

‘You’re an idiot.’ – P –

‘Are you okay?’ – P –

‘I mean, obviously you’re not okay, but... are you okay?’ – P –

‘I’m okay.’ –(Y/N)–

When I walked into the hall where Art Donaldson’s charity event for kids with muscular dystrophy, was being held, eyes didn’t turn toward me like they do in the movies. Everyone was too busy with their conversations and stroking each other’s egos. From the side, it almost looked homoerotic—the gentle touches on shoulders and the occasional pats. Almost sexy. Maybe I was seeing sex in things that weren’t sexy because my ex refused to touch me with more resolve than an ant carrying food that weighed more than its body. “You made it,” Art’s voice came from behind me. “You’re sharp,” I shot back as I turned to him, taking one of the champagne glasses he offered. “Is Patrick here too?” I asked. “No, he couldn’t come. He signed up for a Challenger in Malibu,” he replied, his eyes unapologetically scanning me. I felt completely exposed under his penetrating gaze. “So random,” I mumbled. Art’s hand gently pulled me by the waist, bringing me close to him while keeping his hand exactly where it was. I almost let confusion show on my face, but he introduced me to the man who had come over to talk to him, never taking his eyes—or his hand—off me. Not during the next conversation, or the next one, either. He presented us as a strange package deal. If someone wanted to talk to him, they had to talk to me too. Maybe he hoped it would drive people away. It didn’t. "Want to step outside for some air?" he whispered in my ear. After spending most of the evening standing so close to each other, it felt strange to pull away now that no one else was around. "Sure, why not." I shrugged, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. Before stepping out, we each grabbed a glass of wine. "You raised a lot of money," I remarked, trying to break the ice. "You disappeared on me," he shot back, not bothering with small talk. "I’ve been busy." I shrugged again. "Where’s your ring?" he asked. "You’re obsessed with my hands, Donaldson," I said, unsure how to respond to this level of bluntness after being in a relationship with someone who was too scared to talk to me for years. "It’s not relevant anymore," I added, as his gaze didn’t allow me to dodge the question. "Good, it was ugly," he stated, stopping in his tracks, making me stop too and turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow. His expression was challenging again, with that playful spark, inviting a debate. "It wasn’t ugly," I rolled my eyes. "It was pathetic, Peaches. You know you deserve better," he declared, leaving no room for argument.

And somehow, he was so close. Close enough that his breath, smelling of mint gum and wine, blended with mine. "I’m not looking for a rebound," I murmured. "Neither am I," his usual smug smile was gone. There was no trace of it. He looked hazy. Almost captive. "What are you looking for?" I dared to ask. "You," he replied. It was a good answer.

After an excruciatingly long hour and twenty minutes, during which I had two more glasses of wine, and Art spoke into the microphone—stopping me from downing a third—we arrived at his house. It looked a bit like a modern palace. "How is it that you live here?" I mused aloud, and his mouth found my neck as he chuckled. "What, this old thing?" he mumbled, his kisses as sharp as his words. "Don’t leave marks, Donaldson. We’re adults," I managed to say as I kicked off my heels, and he unzipped my dress.

"I want to do this from the moment you walked into the room today. Fuck, you’re so hot," he growled. It was throaty and masculine, almost animalistic. His eyes scanned me like a smoke detector picking up a cigarette. Within seconds, I found myself on the most comfortable couch I had ever been on. His lips traveled over me as if he was painting a map, as if he remembered all the sensitive points on my body. "I missed her," he said, giving a small bite to my right nipple, glancing at my face as I let out a moan. "her too," he added, moving to the left one. "Art, I need you." I tried to make it clear to him that I couldn't handle the teasing right now. That he should save it for another time. For someone else. For something else. I need him inside me.

"Peaches, have some patien—" he started, continuing to place deadly kisses on various areas of my body. "Art, just fuck me. Okay?" I almost pleaded, my voice lower than usual, filled with an inexplicable need. He looked at me for half a minute and nodded. "Okay baby, I got you," he said. And within seconds, his boxers were on the floor, and my panties disappeared too. He was inside me as if this was his home, as if he belonged there. "Fuck. Art. Thank you, there," I felt stupid, but I couldn't control it. I needed him so badly. I needed someone to fill the empty space. That Art Donaldson would fill the empty space.

He moved at a chaotic pace, almost as if he was trying to prove he could give me exactly what I wanted. What I needed. And he was right. I came after a few minutes, during which his cock filled me perfectly, and his lips found mine and refused to let go. He wrapped me from every direction and came right after I did.

"It's like we're teenagers," I muttered, and he laughed. "I usually last longer," he stated, not getting up, his body weight feeling almost comfortable on top of me. It was almost nice to breathe heavily. "So do I," I retorted. His hand drew little shapes on my shoulder. "Let's go to sleep," he decided, standing up slowly, reaching out his hand and pulling me toward him. Not forgetting to give me another kiss on the lips, a small one. As if it had happened a million times before. As if it were a routine.

"Your bed should be illegal, Donaldson," I said after he tossed a soft T-shirt he had in his closet over me. He lay down beside me, laughing. "I can't believe you're here. I was afraid it wouldn't happen," he said, with a seriousness that felt profound. "How long have you been thinking about this?" I tried to sound amused. "Since the moment I stepped into your office," his honesty was both terrifying and comforting. No one had talked to me so openly in a while. "probably before that" he added. "You can't waste my time, Art," I replied, looking up to catch his gaze. . . . Art took a moment to nod. He already had a ring for you. Even before you broke up with that idiot, he had bought the ring. He didn't know where life would lead you. He just knew he was going to spend every free moment proving to you that he loved you enough not to waste your time. Not when you were his favorite person.

How are we doing guys?!?!?!?! Can't wait to hear from you. That's my chance to remind y'all that English is not my first language and I might have some grammar issues. love you all, hope it was a good addition to the story <3

taglist: @lalalandofive @wild-rose-35 @theynothem @angelism13

#challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #art donaldson smut #his favorite toy

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