#but that is what makes for a good drama I guess

[jazzy96scorpio]

Daddy's Girl

Description: You crave for a taste of danger. He's got a reputation for trouble. When you shared interest in age-gap kink that brings you together, your lust explodes in a night of raw passion. But your secret trysts in the back room of the video shop are just the beginning of a dangerous game.

Pairing: You / Clint - age gap (early 20's / late 40's)

Warnings ⚠️:Adult content, Contains strong sexual themes, daddy kink, age gap, rough sex, oral sex (fem. rec), unprotected sex, SMUT

It was late afternoon, it was your last hours of work in the Late Night Video shop. Dust motes dance in the single shaft of sunlight slicing through the gloom, illuminating rows of DVDs and VHS tapes like forgotten relics. Boredom gnaws at you.

You rearrange the staff picks display for the tenth time, the plastic cases clicking softly in the silence.  You’re so lost in thought you almost don't hear the bell above the door jingle.

Then he walks in.

Clint.

A man with a reputation.  Whispers followed him like shadows – a troubled past, a tough guy exterior, a hint of danger lurking beneath the surface.  You'd heard the stories, of course.  Small-town gossip about his wilder days, his brushes with the law, the kind of things that made mothers clutch their pearls and daughters whisper with a mixture of fear and fascination.  But you weren't like the other girls.  You weren't afraid of a little danger.  In fact, you were drawn to it. To him.

He’s wearing his usual leather jacket, the one that molds to his broad shoulders like it was made for him. His dark slicked brown hair back from his face, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw and the slight touch of grey at his temples. God damn, the man is older, but he’s so hot it makes your breath catch in your throat. He moves with a quiet confidence, a swagger that isn't arrogant, just… there.

"Hey," he says, his voice a low rumble, the California accent wrapping around the word like warm honey. It’s a sound you haven't heard in ages, a sound that always does something funny to your insides.

"Clint," you reply, trying to keep your voice even, casual. "Wow, haven't seen you in forever."

He gives you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, well, last time I saw you, you were still rocking pigtails and chasing after ice cream trucks."

You blush, heat prickling your cheeks. "Things change, I grow up." you mumble, gesturing around the shop. "Guess I work here now."

His eyebrows rise in surprise. "No kidding? What happened to old Mrs. Henderson?"

"Fired," you say bluntly. "Something about… 'creative accounting.'"

Clint chuckles, a low, throaty sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Small town drama," he murmurs. He glances around the shop, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long before shifting away. "How's your dad?"

"He's good," you say. "Fine. You know, same old dad.." It feels strange talking about your dad with Clint. They used to be friends, close even, but something had happened between them, a rift you never fully understood.

"Good, good," he says. He pauses, a flicker of something unreadable in his brown eyes.  "So, what are you looking for today?" you ask, trying to steer the conversation away from your dad.

"Something special," he replies, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I'll know it when I see it."

He starts to browse, moving slowly down the aisles, his eyes scanning the shelves. You watch him, your heart pounding in your chest.

The way he runs a hand through his wet hair, the way his leather jacket creaks with each movement, the way his gaze keeps drifting back to you… it’s all too much. You feel like you’re standing too close to a live wire, buzzing with an energy you can’t control.

A couple of minutes pass, the silence stretching taut between you and Clint as he browses the shelves. You can feel your pulse quickening, a rebellious streak surfacing within you. You want this man. Plain and simple. And you're not going to let years between you – stop you.

Taking a deep breath, you approach him. He’s stopped in front of a shelf, his fingers tracing the spine of a VHS tape. You peer over his shoulder. It’s an older tape, the cover featuring a couple with a significant age gap. Kink. Specifically, age gap kink porn. A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips.

"Good choice," you say, your voice a low murmur. "That's a good one."

He turns, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "You've seen it?" he asks.

"Well," you reply, shrugging nonchalantly, "I need to know what I'm selling, right?"

A slow smile spreads across his face. "Right," he echoes, his gaze lingering on yours.

You lean closer, just a little, the scent of his leather jacket and something subtly spicy, maybe sandalwood, filling your nostrils. "So," you purr, your voice dropping to a near whisper, "do *you* like this kind of… thing?"

He meets your gaze, his eyes darkening slightly. "Let's just say," he replies, his voice a low rumble, "I appreciate a good story."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your eyes. "And what kind of story do you think this one tells?"

He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that vibrates through you.  "One I find really…appealing," he admits, his eyes locking with yours.

"I agree," you say, a slow smile spreading across your face.  "It's kind of my thing too."

He grins, the expression making him look younger, more mischievous.  "Is that so?"

"Mmm-hmm," you hum, turning and walking towards the cash register.  He follows, the VHS tape clutched in his hand.

As you ring him up, he pulls out his wallet.  "This one's on me," you say, meeting his gaze.

His smile widens. "I appreciate that," he says, a hint of something deeper in his voice.

He takes the tape and turns to leave, pausing at the door.  He looks back at you, a lingering look that sends a shiver down your spine.  Then, with a final, almost imperceptible nod, he steps out.

The next day, as you arrive for your shift, you spot him. Clint. He's strolling casually past the video shop, a familiar figure in his leather jacket. The air crackles with a subtle energy, a hum of anticipation. He greets you with a nod, his eyes lingering a little too long, a little too intensely.

"Hey, darling."

"Hey," you reply, trying to keep your voice casual, even though your heart is doing a little flutter-kick in your chest. "So," you venture, a playful glint in your eyes, "did you enjoy the tape?"

A slow smile spreads across his face. "I enjoyed it sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Liked it a lot, actually."

"Told you it was a good one," you say, meeting his gaze. "Just like you." The words slip out, a bit bolder than you intended, but you don't really care.

He chuckles, his eyes raking over you, lingering on the short dress you’d strategically chosen for today. It’s a bit daring, you know, but you’re feeling daring.

His gaze makes you feel a little exposed, but in a good way. "Well," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice, "seems you really *do* have good taste." He winks, and that simple gesture sends a little jolt of electricity through you.

He leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I'd like to buy you a coffee," he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive. "Thank you for the… recommendation."

"I'd like that," you reply, meeting his gaze. "But after work.  We can…have some fun." You keep it casual, but the implication is there, simmering beneath the surface.

He grins, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin. "That's good, see you later" he says, his eyes burning into yours.

You turn and walk into the shop, your back tingling under his gaze.  You can feel his eyes on you as you move, the heat of his attention a pleasant distraction. Inside, you can barely focus on your work, the thought of seeing him later a little buzz of excitement in the back of your mind. You catch your reflection in the security mirror – the short dress, the way your hair falls around your shoulders, the little smile playing on your lips. You know exactly what you're doing. And you can’t wait.

❤️‍🔥

Later, after your shift ends, you head to the small coffee and dining restaurant on the edge of town. It's a quiet place, perfect for a discreet rendezvous. As you pull into the parking lot, you see him. Clint. 

He's already there, sitting in his car, one arm resting on the steeringwheel.  He looks up as you approach, his eyes sweeping over you, lingering on the curve of your hips, the way your dress clings to your thighs.

As you approach you lean against his car, mirroring his relaxed posture, your eyes meeting his.  His gaze travels over your face, then lower, lingering for a moment too long on your breasts.  You don't mind.  In fact, you relish it.

"So," he says, a playful smile on his lips, "about that coffee…"

He doesn't even try to hide his appreciation, his gaze hot and hungry.

"Like what you see?" you purr, a playful smile on your lips.

He grins, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin. "I do," he admits, his voice a low rumble. "Very much."

You feel a surge of desire, a longing that's both thrilling and terrifying.  You want him.  Here. Now.  But you also know you need to play this right.

"Let's go inside," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.  "We can… discuss it further over coffee."

He pushes open the car door and steps out, his eyes still locked with yours. The air crackles between you, thick with unspoken desire.

He grins, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin.  "Lead the way, darling," he replies, his voice laced with a promise that makes your heart pound.

He falls into step beside you as you head towards the restaurant, his hand brushing against your back, sending a shiver down your spine.

Inside, you find a secluded booth, the dim lighting casting an intimate glow. As you sip your coffee, the conversation flows easily, but the undercurrent of tension is undeniable. You flirt shamelessly, your words laced with double entendres and suggestive glances.

"You know," he says, his voice low and husky, "I've been thinking about you all day."

"Oh yeah?" you reply, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "And what have you been thinking?"

He leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Let's just say I've been replaying some scenes in my head," he whispers, his eyes darkening.  "Scenes that involve you, me, and maybe a few other…*toys*."

A gasp escapes you, a mixture of shock and excitement. "You're bold," you manage to say, your voice trembling slightly.

"Only for you, darling," he replies, his hand reaching out to trace a fingertip along your jawline. "Only for you."

You shiver under his touch, the heat of his gaze making you feel like you're melting. "And what kind of toys are we talking about?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirks. "The kind that make you scream," he whispers, his eyes burning into yours.  "The kind that leave you begging for more."

"...I'd like to play with those toys," you whisper, your voice husky with desire.

He smiles, a slow, predatory curve of his lips.  "I thought you might," he murmurs.

You lean closer, your breath ghosting against his ear.  "I think we could have some fun back at the shop," you whisper, your voice laced with a dangerous promise.  "I want you to fuck me so hard the whole street hears me."

His smile widens, a glint of pure lust in his eyes. He takes your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Let's go," he says, his voice low and urgent.

He leads you out of the restaurant and back to his car. He opens the door for you, his eyes never leaving yours. You slide into the passenger seat, the leather cool against your skin. He gets in beside you, the air between you thick with anticipation.

He starts the car, "Ready?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

"More than ready," you reply, your heart pounding in your chest.

He drives quickly, the silence between you charged with unspoken desire.  When you arrive at the video shop, the street is deserted, the only light coming from the moon hanging high in the sky. You fumble with the keys, your hands trembling slightly.  He takes them from you, unlocks the door, and pushes it open.

You step inside and he follows you in, his eyes on your back as you lock the door behind you.

He turns you to face him, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing against your lips. He kisses you, a deep, hungry kiss that sends a wave of heat through you.  He pulls you close, his body pressed against yours, and you can feel the hard length of him against your thigh.  He wants you.  You know it.  And you want him just as badly.

His hand slides beneath your dress, his fingers tracing a burning path across your skin.  You gasp, your breath catching in your throat.  "God, you're so hot," he murmurs against your lips.

You pull back slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes.  "I have a surprise for you," you whisper.

You turn and walk towards the back of the shop, your hips swaying provocatively.  You reach the shelves, and with a practiced movement, you open the secret passage, revealing a hidden room beyond.

He stares at you, a mixture of surprise and lust in his eyes.  "What's this?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Our playground," you reply, taking his hand and leading him through the passage.

The room is small and dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves filled with… other kinds of entertainment.  He closes the door behind you.

He kisses you again, a fierce, passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.  He lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and carries you to a sturdy table in the center of the room.  He lays you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I've been waiting for this all day," he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

"Me too," you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest.

He leans down and kisses you again, his tongue tracing the curve of your lips.  His hand slides beneath your dress, his fingers finding their way between your legs.  You gasp, a moan escaping your lips.

"You're so wet," he murmurs, his voice rough with lust.  "I can't wait to taste you."

He pulls back slightly, his eyes burning into yours.  "Are you sure about this?" he asks, his voice low and serious.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire.  "More than sure."

He smiles, a slow, seductive smile that makes your breath catch in your throat.  "Then let's get started," he says, his voice laced with a promise of pleasure.

He takes off your dress, his eyes never leaving your body. You help him with his jacket and shirt, the anticipation building with each button undone. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin, and kisses you, a slow, lingering kiss that ignites a fire within you. 

He traces the kiss down your neck, his lips grazing your collarbone, then lower, his tongue flicking across your breasts. "God, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. He licks your nipples, sucking them gently, teasing them until they’re hard and aching.  You moan, arching your back, offering yourself to him.

He moves lower, his fingers tracing the curve of your stomach, then dipping beneath the elastic of your panties.  He rips them off, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of your exposed vulva.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice thick with lust. "You're beautiful. So fucking beautiful." He rubs his fingers against your clit, teasing you, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

He leans closer, his tongue flicking against your clit, tasting you. You're so wet, dripping with desire.  "Mmm, you taste so good," he groans.  He grabs your thighs, pulling you closer, and starts to lick you more roughly, his tongue swirling inside you, exploring every inch of your swollen clit. 

You moan, clutching his arms, your body trembling with pleasure.  He then inserts a finger inside you, mimicking his tongue, pushing in and out as he continues to lick you. 

"Come on, babygirl," he whispers, his voice rough and urgent. "Come for me. I want to taste it."  He continues his assault, his fingers thrusting deeper inside you as his tongue dances across your clit.  A loud moan escapes your lips as you come, your body convulsing with pleasure.

"There you go, good girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. He licks you one more time, savoring your taste. "So sweet," he breathes.

Blushing, you watch as he pulls back, his eyes still on you. He unbuckles his belt, the sound echoing in the small room, and pulls down his pants and boxers. His cock is huge, throbbing, the tip leaking with pre-cum.

"Fuck," you whisper, your eyes wide with a mixture of awe and apprehension.  "That's… huge. Will it even fit?"

He smiles, a slow, confident smile that makes your heart pound.  "We'll make it fit, babygirl," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"Don't worry." He slaps his cock against your dripping vulva. "You haven't had a big one like this, have you?"

"Fuck no," you breathe, your eyes locked with his. "Please… I need you."

He guides his cock with his right hand, his left hand resting on your knee, as he tries to enter you. You’re so tight.

"Come on, babygirl," he whispers, his voice thick with lust. "Relax. Let me in…"

You moan and curse, a burning sensation spreading through you. "Fuck… you're so big," you gasp. "I can't…"

He whispers "Sshhh..just a little bit more.."

He thrusts, a hard, fast move that pushes him deep inside you. "There you go," he grunts, his voice rough. "You like that, don't you, you little slut?" He starts to move, slowly at first, then his thrusts become harder, deeper.

He leans down and kisses you, his huge hand cupping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks.  "You're mine now, babygirl," he growls against your lips. "All mine.  Gonna use you 'til you can't walk."

"Fuck yes," you moan, your body writhing beneath him. "Fuck me, Daddy.  Use me hard."

He groans, his thrusts becoming even more forceful.  He loves that. The way you call him Daddy, the way you surrender to him.  It makes him feel powerful, in control.

He moves faster, harder, you are milking his cock with your juices. With every thrust, you feel closer to another orgasm. "Oh, fuck," you moan. "Yes… harder…"

He squeezes your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples. "Oh shit, babygirl," he groans. "You're better than any porn star. Come on, scream for me."

He begins to move faster, harder, his thrusts driving you wild.  He pulls out slightly, then flips you over onto your stomach.  "Now we're going to do this my way," he whispers in your ear, his voice rough and possessive.  He’s rough, but you love it.

He enters you from behind with a hard thrust, pushing you down onto the table.  He grips your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. You moan, so close to the edge. His cock fills you deeply, hitting that sweet spot, making you ache for more.

"Cum inside me," you whisper, your voice thick with lust. "I'm safe."

He laughs, a low, throaty sound. "Oh, I will fill you up, sweetheart," he promises. "I'm not leaving until you're all full of me and dripping." 

He grabs your ass cheeks, thrusting harder, deeper. You feel your pussy squeezing him, and you come again, a loud, shuddering orgasm. You squirt, your juices dripping onto his cock and balls.

He groans as he comes, his hot cock filling you with his seed. He stays inside you for a moment, his cock twitching. He kisses your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "You were so good for me," he murmurs.

He pulls out, your juices mixing with his on his cock. He stuffs his cock back into his pants, his eyes still on you. He kisses you again, his tongue filling your mouth, tasting you one last time.

He brushes your face, fixing your hair, his touch surprisingly gentle. He kisses you once more, a soft, lingering kiss.  "I enjoyed that," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Sorry about your panties."

He helps you with your dress, his fingers brushing against your skin, igniting a fresh wave of desire. "I wish I could stay longer," he murmurs, "but I have to go."

He offers to drive you home. "Better not," you say. "My dad would kill you."

"I'll drop you off before your house," he says, his eyes meeting yours.

He drives you home, the silence between you comfortable, charged with the memory of what just transpired.  As he pulls up a block from your house, he turns to you, his eyes searching yours. He reaches out, his hand brushing against your legs, sending a shiver down your spine.

He leans in and kisses you one last time, a slow, lingering kiss that tastes of promise. 

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart," he murmurs against your lips. "We're gonna keep this our little secret, right?"

"Right," you whisper, kissing him back. "Goodbye, Daddy. See you tomorrow."

He smiles, a slow, seductive smile that makes your heart flutter. He starts the engine and pulls away, leaving you in the quiet darkness, the memory of his touch still burning on your skin.

Thank you for the reading 💜

Please like, reblog and comment ❣️

Chapter 2

[wizlizbelle3]

My void success story and the only post you will ever need.

Hello everyone. Before I begin, I just want to inform everyone that I will not be answering any dms moving forward. I might not even come back to the app. Not because I don't want to help people, but because I have realized that being on this app made me sink into negativity. People constantly affirming negativity and dumping it on other people, drama with who's fake and who isn't, bots spamming asks, people wanting me to tell them everything I've already written in simpler words. It's too much. I know it's hard for you to get through your situation. I know you want what you want now. So use this post and stick to it because it is the LAST thing you will ever need.

I began my void journey a while ago and did literally everything you could possibly imagine. Here are the things I tried:

affirming 10,000 times

affirming 60,000 times

lullaby method

sats

mental diet

self concept

meditation

psyche-k

silva method

monroe method

neville's method

and more

None of it worked until recently. Just to clarify, that the one thing that finally pushed me into the void was SATS but I realized that everything I had been doing was crap because I was not doing it correctly.

So I was on reddit and I saw a success story of how this woman manifested what she wanted before her specific desired date, So I gave myself 20 days or so and wrote down a specific date. I persisted, affirmed and did everything to stay positive and asked the universe to give me signs and show me things. Listened to like 17 subliminals at the same time on my computer for hours. And guess what? When that day came, I did not wake up in the void state. I cried and was really upset because there are people out here who want to hurt others and they get into the void easily. So why not me?

I finally decided on that same morning after I finished crying that I was not going to be a p*ssy and will get exactly what I want, when I want it, how I want it, and get into the void state easily. I did not affirm this to myself. I wrote it down as a letter to my higher self. I was done waiting and I told my higher self and the universe that I am done waiting. What exactly is the problem? Why can I specifically not get what I want? Am i really that bad of a person?

No, I was just weak and I victimized myself for absolutely no reason. I don't care what the 3D shows me. Why would any of that affect me? I feel so stupid for acting like the negativity and nonsense that people around me spewed was actually supposed to affect me???? NO!.

I came across this video by manifesting with missy renee and in the video she said that most people don't do sats correctly and I completely agree with it. You are supposed to wait until you're groggy and actually in a trance. I kept stressing in all my previous posts that you're supposed to do this and that and none of you got it and neither did I. We were all stupid (some of you still are for pretending you don't understand). So the correct way to do SATS is:

get into a position where you don't usually sleep

RELAXXXXXXX. Do anything to make yourself relaxed and this can very well take up to 20-30 minutes. Stop acting like that's a bad thing.

When you are in SATS, your scene should come in easy. You don't have to stress it. If you have to strain to put your scene together, you are not in SATS.

So that's what I did. I think i used a meditation by Life by Lucie. I used one where the timing was good for me. Also, in that same day I used hypnodaddy's clear negative and get rid of victim mentality subliminals. I also used high frequency guru's void state video. Not because I wanted the subliminals to take me to the void. Just because I WANTED.

I'm telling you, you have to be aggressive as hell. So I did SATS, I was confident that I will wake up in the void, and then I did. I manifested my void list and i made the list because I didn't want to affirm for every single thing.

You have to have enough. That's the key. You have to put your foot down and say WTAF is this???? randoms keep getting into the void but not me??? NO NO NO NO NO

And do not ask me how to relax. I've made so many posts on SATS and it's hurtful that you guys ignore it so hard.

You wanna cry because it didn't happen? fine cry. Then go back to being aggressive. Use your pissed off state to be confident that you'll get what you want.

And your sats scene can be what feels good to you in that moment. It WILL come to you. Period. I'll answer questions ONLY IN THE COMMENTS. don't be shy. but I cannot go through the mental torture of being trauma dumped. Everybody's got their own thing and you're not going to get into the void if you tell your sorrows to people. You're going to get into the void when you decide you will. It's that easy. Im linking some stuff below, use it if you want. I really hope you get the message I'm trying to send here.

NO tags because this will find you at the right moment in your life.

[iamquiantrelle]

OFFSIDES (chapter 3) ────── iamquaintrelle

# pairings: aurelien tchouameni x black oc (☔️💕✨). # wc: 8.16k

# tags: @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @sucredreamer @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @jessnotwiththemess @judectrl @ayeshami @greyishbach @haartemis @goldenngt @solidbriii @sailurmewn @rainbowsparkelsunshine @lbchi @bbgkoo @mauvecherie-writes @ri6ht6ack @captainwithoutmakingitlove @masn-mount @itsleonaa @alika-4466 @mufasathatniggatho @livinglifethroughfanfic

# summary: nazanin "naz" williams and real madrid star aurélien tchouaméni's casual relationship takes an unexpected turn. after he temporarily ghosts her, leading to leaked photos and public drama, they must face their feelings for each other and try to make their 'situationship' into something concrete. masterlist

RealMadridTea: Anyone else find Tchouaméni's girl's old pics? Rutgers grad, Delta something... guess she's not just some random chick after all 👀

FootballWAGS: That American university photo of Naz is actually cute. She looks different now but still pretty! #RealMadridWAGs

tchouagoals: leave my boy's business alone fr... but since we're here, she got credentials unlike some other wags js 🤷🏾‍♀️

Naz stared at her phone, scrolling through the endless tweets. Her Instagram might be private, but these people were like detectives – finding her college graduation photos, shots from her Delta Sigma Theta days, even an old academic award ceremony picture. Someone had even dug up her senior thesis from Rutgers' digital library: "The Psychology of Black Americans: Mental Health in the Black Diaspora."

"You're doing it again," Kiki said from their kitchen doorway. "I thought Aurélien told you to stay off Twitter."

"He did." Naz locked her phone, but not before seeing another notification about someone sharing photos from her line's probate show. "But it's like watching a car crash."

Her roommate – soon to be ex-roommate – set a cup of ginger tea in front of her. "Girl, you've got bigger things to worry about. Like what you're taking to Madrid and what you're leaving behind."

The half-packed boxes scattered around their London flat were testament to that. Some labeled "Madrid" in Naz's neat handwriting, others marked "Storage" or "Donate." Two years of life in London being sorted into neat categories. Her Delta letters, should they go to storage or Madrid? Her collection of psychology books – which ones would she need for whatever job she found in Spain?

Her phone buzzed again. Aurélien: Ready for tonight?

Their first proper date. Because apparently that's what you do when you're already pregnant and planning to move countries – you go on first dates. Try to build something real while your world is literally in boxes.

As ready as I'll ever be, she typed back. Though Twitter found my sorority pictures so...

His response was immediate: You looked good in crimson. But seriously, stay off there. Let Simon handle it.

Simon wasn't handling anything though. The tweets kept coming, the speculation growing. Her line sisters had started a group chat about it – half concerned, half excited that one of their own was "dating up." Her old roommate from Rutgers sent screenshots of forum discussions about her. At least they hadn't found anything too embarrassing. Yet.

"Earth to Naz," Kiki waved a hand in front of her face. "You good? No more fainting spells?"

"I'm fine." Her hand found her stomach automatically. Still flat, but somehow everything felt different now. Heavier. More real. "Just... overwhelmed."

"Yeah well, moving countries while pregnant will do that." Kiki started sorting through another box, pulling out Naz's framed psychology license. "Still can't believe you're leaving me for Madrid."

"I'm not leaving you-"

"Girl, please. You're moving in with your fine-ass footballer baby daddy. I'd leave me for that too." She paused, holding up a photo of them from their first day in London. "But you better FaceTime me every day. And name the baby after me."

"What if it's a boy?"

"Keith is a perfectly good name."

Naz laughed, but it caught in her throat as another wave of nausea hit. Morning sickness was a lie – it lasted all damn day.

Her phone buzzed again: Maman wants to know what you're craving for dinner. She's cooking.

Because that was her life now – first dates with the father of her baby while his mother cooked and Twitter dissected her past. Somewhere between the sorority pictures and the morning sickness, between London and Madrid, between casual and complicated, this had become her new normal.

"You know what's wild?" Kiki said, sitting next to her. "Ten months ago you were just thirst-following footballers on Instagram. Now look at you."

"Yeah," Naz whispered, looking around at her boxed-up life. "Now look at me."

"You will be okay, Naz," Kiki said to her as she shot her a knowing look. "You and that baby."

"Hold up, let me record this for the girlies," Naz said, opening Instagram. She flipped her camera to show the chaos of boxes. "Day three of packing and I still can't figure out what goes where."

She added it to her Close Friends story – a carefully curated list that Destiny had been removed from weeks ago. The responses were immediate:

Girl you better pack that fine man's jersey first from her line sister Ashley.

Send me measurements to Kiki’s flat, I might move to London 👀 from her college roommate Gia.

"You're really okay with Aurélien covering the rent?" Naz asked Kiki for probably the tenth time that week. "Just until you find someone new or decide to move?"

"Girl, am I okay with a millionaire footballer paying my rent? Is that a real question?" Kiki tossed a throw pillow at her. "The real question is are YOU okay with quitting your job here?"

Naz thought about the resignation letter she'd submitted two days ago. Her supervisor had been understanding – too understanding, really. Had even suggested she take some of her regular clients remotely.

"I mean, I can still do sessions online while I figure out the Spanish job market." She picked up her license again. "Might need to get this transferred though."

"And what did lover boy say about all this?"

"He wants me to take my time. Says I should focus on settling in first, learning Spanish..." She rolled her eyes. "Being healthy."

"He's not wrong though." Kiki's voice went serious. "After that hospital scare-"

"I know, I know." Naz added another clip to her story, this one of Kiki dramatically hugging her Delta letters. "But I can't just... exist. I need to work."

"And you will. But maybe take a minute? Enjoy being pampered by your rich boyfriend?"

"He's not-" Naz stopped. What was Aurélien exactly? Baby daddy seemed too casual. Boyfriend felt too simple for what they were becoming.

"Speaking of which," Kiki nodded at her phone, "didn't he say something about dinner?"

Right. Their first proper date. Because apparently they were doing things backward – baby first, dating second.

She added one final clip to her story: "Last few weeks in London... ready for my next chapter I think ❤️"

"Corny ass," Kiki teased, but she was smiling. "Now please tell me you're not wearing that on your date."

Naz looked down at her oversized t-shirt and leggings. "I have time to change."

"Girl, your man is taking you on a real date. After everything? You better show up and show out."

"It's just dinner at his place-"

"With his mama cooking! Even better!" Kiki was already heading to Naz's room. "We're finding you something that says 'yes I'm carrying your baby but I'm still that bitch.'"

"Pretty sure Josette doesn't need that message," Naz laughed, but followed her anyway.

Her phone buzzed again: Maman's making that fish you liked last time. Says it's good for the baby.

Then: You okay? Need me to get you an earlier flight?

Always checking on her now. Always making sure she was okay. It should feel suffocating but somehow... didn't.

I'm good. Just packing and talking shit with Kiki.

Tell her she can stay by herself as long as she needs. No rush finding someone new.

Naz showed the message to Kiki, who whistled. "Girl, keep him. Not just for the baby. Keep him for life."

And maybe, Naz thought as she finally let Kiki drag her to the closet, that wasn't such a scary thought anymore.

*******************************************************

The Madrid sun hit different than London’s cloudy ass weather, Naz thought as Aurélien loaded her bags into his Urus. Maybe because this time it felt less like a weekend visit and more like coming home.

"Happy?" she asked, catching his grin as he started driving.

"You're here," he said simply. "Course I'm happy."

"I still have to go back next week. Pack up the rest, deal with the movers-"

"Yeah, but you're here now." His smile was infectious. "In Madrid. With me."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling too. "You're being extra."

"Can't help it." His right hand left the steering wheel, finding its way to her stomach. "How's our little midfielder?"

"Making me throw up on the plane. Business class was not impressed."

He rubbed gentle circles on her still-flat belly. "Maman found these ginger candies. Special order from some Asian market."

"Your mom needs to stop spoiling me."

"Never." He glanced at her. "Oh, by the way, I signed us up for Lamaze classes."

Naz nearly choked on air. "You what?"

"Lamaze. For the birth? The instructor speaks English-"

"Aurel, I'm barely three months-"

"Yeah but we need to be prepared. I've been reading these books-"

She couldn't help laughing. "Since when are you such a nerd about this?"

"Hey, I'm serious!" But he was grinning too. "We gotta learn the breathing techniques and stuff. I don't want to mess up when you're in labor."

The way he said it – like it was obvious he'd be there, like there was no question about them doing this together – made something warm bloom in her chest.

His expression turned more serious. "Speaking of preparation... have you told your mom yet?"

And just like that, the warm feeling vanished. "Not yet."

"Naz..."

"I know, I know. I'll get to it."

"All your friends know. Your sorority sisters, Kiki, Gia-"

"That's different."

"You're going to start showing soon. The whole world's gonna know before your own mother?"

She stared out the window at passing Madrid streets. "Maybe she'll see it on Twitter."

"Nazanin."

"Don't 'Nazanin' me. You don't know what she's like."

His hand squeezed gently where it still rested on her stomach. "No, I don't. But I know she needs to hear this from you, not the internet. Not when I do the baby cele as the official announcement."

"You’re going to do the cele?"

"Eventually. If I get a goal." He paused at a red light. "Which is why you need to tell her soon. Before she finds out some other way."

"I will." She caught his skeptical look. "I will. Just... let me get settled first. Figure out this move. Then I'll deal with my mother's disappointment."

"Maybe she'll surprise you."

Naz thought about her mother's face the day she announced she was moving to London for her master’s instead of taking that fast track PhD offer at her alma mater. The tight smile when she joined Delta instead of a "proper" sorority. The cold silence when she chose clinical psychology over cognitive practice.

"Yeah," she muttered. "She's full of surprises."

Aurélien must have heard something in her voice because he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Whatever happens, you've got me. Got all of us."

And maybe that was what scared her most – how much she was starting to believe him.

The smell of Josette's cooking hit them before they even opened the front door. Naz's stomach growled, reminding her she'd barely eaten on the flight.

"Ma fille!" Josette appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "How was the flight? The morning sickness?"

"More like all-day sickness," Naz admitted as Josette pulled her into a warm hug.

"Ah, just like me with this one." She gestured at Aurélien. "Sick until five months. But the fish will help."

"Maman, you didn't have to stay and cook-"

"Of course I did. Nazanin needs proper food, not your takeout." She shooed them toward the stairs. "Go, go. Get settled. I'm just taking the fish out and then leaving you two for your..." She made air quotes, "date."

Aurélien groaned. "Maman..."

"What? I think it's sweet. Better late than never, non?" She headed back to the kitchen, humming something that sounded suspiciously like a lullaby.

Twenty minutes later, after Naz had freshened up and changed, they came down to find the dining room transformed. Candles lit, table set properly, wine glasses filled with what looked like sparkling water.

"Your mom did all this?"

"She's... invested," Aurélien said, pulling out her chair.

"I can see that."

Josette appeared with the fish, set it down with a flourish. "Now, I'm going out with Denise. Don't forget the dessert in the fridge. And Aurélien?"

"Oui?"

"Be a gentleman." She kissed them both on the cheek and practically floated out, leaving them alone.

"So..." Naz watched him light the last candle. "First date."

"First proper date," he corrected, sitting across from her. "Though technically, Paris could count."

"Paris was a bootycall and you know it."

He laughed, the sound warm in the candlelight. "A very nice bootycall though."

"The nicest." She took a bite of fish, nearly moaning at the taste. "Okay, your mom needs to teach me how to cook like this."

"She will. She's already planning cooking lessons." He watched her eat with that soft look he got sometimes. "Tell me something I don't know about you."

"You know everything about me."

"Not everything. Like... what made you choose clinical psychology?"

She thought about it, taking another bite. "Honestly? Growing up with my mom... made me interested in why people are the way they are. Why they push their kids certain ways. How trauma and expectations shape us."

"And you didn't want to specialize in anything specific?"

"I like the breadth of clinical work. Getting to help different kinds of people, understanding various mental health issues." She glanced at him. "Though lately I've had a few athlete clients. They find it helpful that I understand the pressure of performance."

"From your dad?"

"Yeah. Growing up around his analysis of sports, seeing how mental health affects performance... it definitely influences how I approach therapy." She took a sip of water. "Your turn. Tell me something I don't know about you."

"I'm terrified of spiders."

She nearly choked. "What?"

"Can't stand them. Cama has to kill them for me at training."

"The great Aurélien Tchouaméni, afraid of tiny spiders?"

"They're creepy! All those legs..." He shuddered dramatically.

The conversation flowed easily after that. They talked about first crushes, embarrassing moments, favorite books.

"It's weird," she said later, as they finished dessert. "How we did everything backward."

"Backward?"

"Yeah. Like, we had sex first, then got pregnant, now we're finally having our first date..."

"Maybe we're just making our own timeline." His hand found hers across the table. "Our own rules."

Looking at him in the candlelight, Naz thought maybe he was right. Maybe their story didn't need to follow anyone else's path.

"Another thing you don't know about me," she said softly. "I'm really glad we're doing this. The date thing."

"Me too." His smile was worth every backward step that led them here. "Not tired yet, are you?"

"Depends what you're plotting."

"Want to go out?"

Naz raised an eyebrow. "And do what? Can't exactly hit the clubs like before."

"I was thinking..." He grinned. "Arcade?"

"Arcade?" She stared at him. "Really, Aurel?"

"Why not?" His smile was dangerous – the same one that usually preceded some of their wilder adventures. His eyes twinkled in the candlelight. "Could be fun."

"We're not little kids, Aurélien."

"Oh really? Says the girl who watched cartoons with me until 4 AM that time in Budapest?"

Heat flooded her cheeks at the memory. That night after his first match as interim captain for Les Bleus. They'd been riding the high of the win, of his performance, of everything that followed in that hotel room – things that would make Josette clutch her pearls if she knew.

Then somehow they'd ended up watching French-dubbed Dragon Tales of all things, tangled in hotel sheets, her body still bearing marks from their….activities.

"That was different," she muttered. "We were... distracted."

His grin widened. "I remember. You kept trying to test your skills and translate it to English."

"Until you shut me up."

"Very effectively, if I remember right."

She kicked him under the table. "You're terrible."

"And you're avoiding the arcade question." He leaned forward. "Come on, Naz. Let me beat you at ski ball."

"As if I’ll let you win."

"That sounds like a challenge."

She shouldn't. She was tired from the flight, from the move, from growing a whole human. But something about the way he was looking at her, about how he was trying to make this – them – feel normal...

"Fine," she conceded. "But when I destroy you at Dance Dance Revolution, don't cry."

His laugh was worth any exhaustion tomorrow might bring. "There's my girl."

My girl. The words settled warm in her chest, right next to where their baby was growing.

"But first," she stood, moving to his side of the table. "I think you owe me a proper first date kiss."

His hands found her waist immediately, pulling her between his legs. "Thought that came at the end of the date?"

"We're doing everything else backward," she reminded him. "Why start following rules now?"

When he kissed her, she tasted promise – of arcade games and cartoon nights, of backward timelines and forward momentum, of everything they could be if they just let themselves try.

Morning sunlight painted stripes across Aurélien's bedroom, catching dust motes and memories of last night. The massive teddy bear he'd won at free throws sat in the corner, looking absurdly out of place among his minimalist decor.

"Can't believe you actually made those shots," Naz mumbled against his chest. "Mr. 'I play football, not basketball.'"

"Can't believe you destroyed me at ski ball." His fingers traced lazy patterns on her stomach. "My ego may never recover."

"Poor baby."

"Speaking of baby..." His hand splayed wider across her abdomen. "When do you think you'll start showing?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "Few more weeks maybe? Though your mom swears she can already tell."

"Maman thinks she knows everything."

"She kind of does though."

They lay in comfortable silence, his fingertips still mapping the territory their child would soon make known.

"It's weird, right?" she said finally. "That we're actually having a baby?"

"So weird." He shifted to look at her properly. "Like, there's really a whole person in there. That we made. On that balcony in Mallorca."

"Stop," she laughed, but he was grinning.

"Just saying, that view was worth it."

"The view or what happened with the view?"

His grin turned wicked. "Both."

Last night felt like a dream – running around the arcade like teenagers, stealing kisses between games, him showing off at the basketball hoops until she shut him up by demolishing his ski ball score. They'd gotten ice cream after, walked through Madrid's streets hand in hand, and for a moment it was like they were just two people falling in love, not two people preparing for parenthood.

"What about names?" he asked suddenly.

"Already?"

"Just thinking about it. Maybe something French and American? Or Cameroonian?"

She traced the planes of his chest, considering. "You have any ideas?"

"Maybe." He caught her hand, pressed a kiss to her palm. "But I'm not telling yet."

"Tease."

"You love it."

Did she? Love it? Love him? The thought should terrify her but somehow, lying here with Madrid's sun warming the sheets and his hand on their baby, it didn't seem so scary to fall in love with him.

"Last night was nice," she said instead. "Felt normal."

"We can be normal." He pulled her closer. "Just... our kind of normal."

"Our kind of normal includes a baby now."

"Yeah." His voice held wonder. "Weird how that's not as scary as it was two weeks ago."

She knew what he meant. Somewhere between hospital rooms and arcade games, between morning sickness and midnight ice cream, between London and Madrid, terror had softened into something else. Something that felt a lot like hope.

"We're really doing this," she whispered.

"We're really doing this," he confirmed, then added with a smirk, "After we sleep more. Someone kept me up late beating me at games."

"Poor professional athlete, defeated by ski ball."

His retaliation tickle attack was worth the shrieking that probably woke up half of La Finca. The tickle fight soon dissolved into something softer, his hands gentling on her sides as she straddled him. When their lips met, it felt like coming home. Aurélien kissed like he played football – with purpose, with skill, with an intensity that took her breath away. His tongue traced the seam of her lips before deepening the kiss, one hand tangling in her hair while the other pressed against her lower back.

There was something different about kissing him now. Maybe it was the morning light making everything feel more real, or maybe it was knowing their baby was growing between them, or maybe it was just them – finally letting themselves have this, have each other, without pretense or games.

They broke apart with matching grins, both a little dazed. Naz studied his face – those dark eyes that seemed to see right through her, that sharp jawline she'd traced countless times, those full lips still curved in a smile. How was it possible for someone to be this beautiful? Even with bed head and morning stubble, he was unfairly handsome.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand.

"Ignore it," she murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "I want more kisses."

"You do?" His smile turned playful.

She nodded, capturing his lips again. They lost themselves for a few more moments until another buzz interrupted.

"Let me check this really quick."

She let out an exaggerated groan, complete with pout.

"Don't give me that face, Naz."

"But Aurel-"

"Just a second okay?" His hands squeezed her hips. "Maybe I'll give you some dick too..."

"Promise?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

He caressed her chin with gentle fingers. "Promise."

Naz settled against his bare chest as he reached for his phone, her fingers absently playing with the trail of hair below his navel. She felt the moment his body tensed.

"Putain," he cursed.

"What's wrong?"

He turned the screen toward her. Twitter was exploding with photos – them at the arcade last night, him winning the teddy bear, her laughing as he failed at ski ball. But as he scrolled down the thread, her blood ran cold.

There she was, outside her therapist's office in London, clearly taken with a long lens. The tweet above it speculating about why Tchouaméni's girl needed counseling.

Their bubble of morning bliss popped instantly.

"Fuck," she whispered, sitting up. "How did they-"

"I'm calling Simon." His voice had that edge now, the one that meant someone was about to have a very bad day. "This stops now."

But they both knew it wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. Because this was their life now – private moments made public, speculation about every move they made.

So much for their kind of normal.

Naz grabbed her own phone with shaking hands, Twitter already lighting up her notifications.

FootballLeaks: Why is Tchouaméni's girl at a counseling center? 🤔 Problems in paradise already?

MadridInsider: Sources say she's been going weekly. Must be rough being a WAG...

"Don't read the comments," Aurélien said, but she was already scrolling.

Then someone dropped another bomb – a photo from eight months ago at Cama's party. Her and Destiny, glasses in hand, laughing about something she couldn't even remember now. The caption made her feel sick:

RealMadridTea: Like bestie like bestie? First Cama, now Tchouaméni... and look who's with Vini now 👀 These girls have a type! #JerseyHoppers

The replies were worse:

they pass these girls around like pokemon cards fr

nah destiny upgraded to vini but naz got the bag with tchou

"Naz." Aurélien's voice seemed far away. "Give me the phone."

"They think I'm like her," she whispered. "They think I'm jumping from player to player like-"

"Stop." He took her phone gently but firmly. "You know that's not true."

"But-"

"No buts." He pulled her against his chest. "You're nothing like her. The people who matter know that."

She could hear him on the phone with Simon now, voice tight with controlled anger. Words like "invasion of privacy" floated around her, but all she could think about was that photo with Destiny. How happy they'd looked. How fake it all was.

"They're watching me at therapy," she said when he hung up. "Taking pictures of me at therapy, Aurel."

"Simon's handling it."

"That won't stop them from comparing me to her. From thinking I'm just another-"

"Look at me." He tilted her chin up. "You're the mother of my child. My girl. Nothing else matters."

"But Vini-"

"Already knows the truth about Destiny. Cama told him everything last night."

That made her pause. "He did?"

"Yeah. Apparently he wasn't too happy about being lied to." Aurélien's thumb stroked her cheek. "The truth always comes out, bébé. Let them talk. We know what's real."

She leaned into his touch, trying to find comfort in his certainty. But the image of her outside that counseling office kept flashing in her mind.

"I go to therapy because I want to be better," she said quietly. "Because I want to understand myself, help other people. Not because-"

"You don't have to explain." His kiss was soft against her forehead. "Not to me, not to anyone."

Her phone buzzed again in his hand. More notifications, more speculation, more hate probably.

"What do we do now?"

"Now?" He set both their phones aside. "Now we go back to our morning. Don't let them steal this from us too."

But as he pulled her back down into the sheets, as his lips found hers again, she couldn't help wondering how many more private moments would become public spectacle. How many more comparisons to Destiny she'd have to endure.

"Aurel?" Her voice was small against his chest.

"Mm?"

"What if..." She swallowed hard. "What if they have pictures from the other clinic too?"

His body tensed beneath her. "What other clinic?"

"The abortion counselor." The words felt heavy in the morning air. "What if they saw me there and-"

"Hey." He shifted to look at her properly. "That was private. That was your choice to consider, and-"

"And what if they post it? What if they twist it into something ugly?" Her voice cracked. "They'd crucify me. Call me a baby killer or say I tried to-"

"Stop." His hands framed her face. "First of all, getting counseling about your options was the responsible thing to do. Second, if anyone tries to shame you for that, they'll have to deal with me."

"But your image-"

"Fuck my image." The intensity in his voice made her blink. "You were scared and alone because I blocked you like an idiot. You had every right to consider all your options."

She traced patterns on his chest, not meeting his eyes. "The fans wouldn't see it that way."

"The fans don't get a vote in our personal decisions." His thumb wiped away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen. "And if those pictures exist? We handle it. Together."

"How?"

"By telling the truth. That we made a choice – together – to have this baby. That we're happy about it. That whatever came before was our business and no one else's."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Though Simon might have a heart attack if we're that direct."

That startled a laugh out of her. "He does prefer his PR statements very... sanitized."

"Very boring, you mean." His fingers tangled in her hair. "But seriously, Naz. Nothing they could leak would change how I feel about you. About us."

"Promise?"

"On everything." His hand found her stomach again. "On both of you."

She settled back against him, letting his heartbeat steady her. "Your mom would probably fight anyone who tried to shame us anyway."

"Probably? Definitely. Maman's already got her wooden spoon ready."

The mental image of Josette chasing Twitter trolls with a spoon made her giggle. "We're gonna be okay, right?"

His kiss was answer enough, soft and sure against her lips. "More than okay. We're gonna be amazing."

Maybe we will be okay…..

"I'll make breakfast," Aurélien added. "Pancakes?"

Naz hummed in agreement, but the moment he left the room, she reached for her phone again. She knew better – knew doom scrolling while hormonal was a recipe for disaster, but she couldn't help herself.

Instagram was worse than Twitter. FootballWAGsTea had already posted a series of photos: her outside the counseling office, at the arcade with Aurélien, and that damning shot with Destiny from Cama's party.

Swipe for the tea! Looks like Tchouaméni's new girl has a history with the WAG scene... 👀 Sources say she was close with Destiny (now dating Vini Jr) when Des was with Camavinga! Pattern? 🤔

The comments made her stomach turn:

she looks desperate tbh

at least destiny is upfront about what she wants

notice how she only goes for the rich ones

bet she's trying to trap him

If they only knew, she thought bitterly. Then the familiar wave of nausea hit – stronger this time, probably triggered by stress and an empty stomach.

She barely made it to Aurélien's ensuite bathroom before losing what little was in her stomach. Morning sickness was brutal enough without adding social media anxiety to the mix.

"Naz?" Aurélien's voice carried from the bedroom. "You okay?"

She wanted to answer, but another wave hit. Then his hands were there, holding back her hair, rubbing her back.

"I told you to stay off social media," he said softly.

"Since when do I listen?" she managed between heaves.

"Hardheaded."

"You like it."

He didn't deny it, just kept rubbing her back as she emptied her stomach. When she finally sat back, he handed her a warm washcloth.

"The pancakes are burning," she whispered.

"Fuck the pancakes." He settled on the bathroom floor beside her. "What did you just see?"

"Nothing I didn't expect." She leaned into him. "Just... hits different now. With the baby and everything."

His hand found her stomach automatically. "They still don't know shit about us."

"They think they do though. Think they know everything." Her laugh was hollow. "Wait till they find out about this."

"Hey." He turned her face toward him. "When they find out about our baby, it'll be because we choose to tell them. On our terms."

"If they don't figure it out first."

"Then they figure it out. But right now?" His kiss was soft against her temple. "Right now it's just us. Our secret."

The smell of burning pancakes finally reached them.

"You really left the stove on?"

"Shit." He scrambled up. "Stay here. Drink water. No more social media."

"Yes, captain," she mock saluted, but her smile faded as soon as he left.

Her phone sat accusingly on the bathroom counter. One notification caught her eye:

@FootballWAGsTea: Anyone else notice she's been looking... different lately?

The nausea returned full force.

******************************************************

Josette had confiscated her phone with all the gentle authority of a mother who'd raised a stubborn son. "No more stress," she'd said firmly, tucking the phone away in her room before leaving. "Doctor's orders."

Now Naz was stuck in this massive villa with nothing but her thoughts and a weirdly clingy Ocho. She'd tried Netflix, but nothing held her attention. Prime was just as useless, despite Aurélien paying for every streaming service known to man.

"This is what happens when your social media addiction gets cut off," she told Ocho, who'd been following her room to room like a furry shadow. "You realize you don't know how to function without it."

The dog just tilted his head, staying closer than usual. Maybe he could smell the changes in her body. She'd read somewhere that dogs could detect pregnancy.

Unpacking seemed like the responsible thing to do. She managed to get through organizing her toiletries and hanging up the clothes from her carry-on before restlessness hit again. That's when she caught her reflection in Aurélien's full-length mirror.

She turned sideways, studying her profile. Still flat, still just... her. If it wasn't for the constant nausea and two positive tests and that grainy ultrasound image, she wouldn't believe there was actually a baby in there.

Her hand found her stomach, pressing gently. Nothing felt different. She poked her belly out deliberately, trying to imagine what she'd look like in a few months.

"What do you think, Ocho?" she grabbed one of the decorative pillows from Aurélien's bed. "Think I'll look like this?"

She stuffed the pillow under her shirt, smoothing the fabric until she had what she imagined was a decent fake baby bump. The sight made her breath catch.

"Weird, right?" she whispered to Ocho, who'd settled at her feet. "There's really a baby in here. Like, an actual human that me and your dad made."

But besides the morning sickness – which was really all-day sickness – she didn't feel pregnant. Shouldn't she feel different? More maternal? More... something?

The tests said she was pregnant. The ultrasound showed that tiny flutter of heartbeat. Aurélien's mom was already planning nursery colors and Aurélien himself had downloaded three different baby apps.

But standing here, alone with her reflection and a fake pillow bump, it felt surreal. Like playing pretend.

She pulled the pillow out, letting her shirt fall flat again. Her fingers traced where their baby was supposedly growing.

"Your dad's at PT right now," she told her stomach, feeling only slightly crazy for talking to it. "Probably driving his trainers nuts asking about what exercises are safe around pregnant women."

Ocho whined, pawing at her leg.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm being weird." She scratched behind his ears. "Just trying to wrap my head around all this. Being here, being pregnant, being..."

Being what? Aurélien's girlfriend? Baby mama? Future WAG?

She caught her reflection again, trying to see what those gossip blogs saw. Did she look different? Could people tell?

Or was she just looking for changes that weren't visible yet, like searching for proof that this was all real and not some elaborate dream she'd wake up from?

"Come on," she told Ocho. "Let's stop before I completely lose it talking to myself in mirrors."

But she couldn't help one last glance at her profile, one last moment of wondering when she'd start to see on the outside what she knew was growing inside.

When this would start feeling real.

Naz abandoned the mirror to sit on Aurélien's – their? – bed, Ocho following faithfully. Her hand hadn't left her stomach.

Lamaze classes. She almost laughed at the thought. Aurélien was so excited about them, had already picked out an English-speaking instructor and everything. Would she be the youngest one there? Would the other moms judge her? Maybe she should join one of those mommy groups too, though the thought made her cringe. She'd seen those groups at the parks in London, all designer strollers and organic snacks.

"Never thought I'd be here," she told Ocho, who rested his head on her lap. "Like, this was never the plan."

The plan had been perfect: graduate high school with honors, get through Rutgers without any "distractions" (her mother's word for boys), finish her master's, establish her career. She'd been so careful, so responsible. Hell, she'd made it through four years of college without so much as a pregnancy scare.

But one weekend in Mallorca with a footballer...

"It is what it is," she muttered, echoing Aurélien's favorite phrase.

The option to terminate was still there. Technically. She knew the timeline, knew her rights. Had literally marched in protests supporting those rights. Funny how different it felt when it was your body, your baby, your choice.

Her fingers traced patterns on her stomach. Their baby. Because somewhere between that first positive test and now, it had become real. Become wanted. Even with all the terror and uncertainty, even with her career hanging in limbo, even with the social media harassment...

"I have Aurélien," she reminded herself. "And Josette. And Uncle Bertrand."

Family. Support. Love. Things she hadn't expected to find when she first started hanging around footballers. Things that made the idea of motherhood slightly less terrifying.

But then there was her own mother.

"Fuck," she groaned, falling back on the bed. Ocho immediately scooted up next to her.

How do you tell your perfectionist mother that you got knocked up by a casual fling? That you're moving countries for said fling? That all her careful planning and guidance led to her daughter becoming exactly what she'd warned against?

The fact that the "fling" was a millionaire footballer probably wouldn't help. Her mother had very specific ideas about athletes and the women who dated them.

"She's going to kill me," Naz told the ceiling. "Actually murder me. Then resurrect me to lecture me about responsibility and throwing away my future."

But what future was she throwing away really? She could still practice – maybe even build a niche helping other athletes and their families. Could still make something of herself beyond just being Aurélien's girlfriend or baby mama.

Baby mama. God, she hated that term. Made her sound like some stereotype, like what those Twitter trolls thought she was.

"Not that it matters what they think," she said to her stomach. "Your dad's right about that at least."

Her hand settled over where their baby was growing. All these plans she'd never thought to make, all these decisions she never expected to face. Lamaze classes and mommy groups and birth plans and...

"Holy shit," she whispered. "I'm actually going to be someone's mother."

The thought should terrify her more. Maybe it would later. But right now, lying here with Ocho's steady presence and the memory of Aurélien's excitement about those damn Lamaze classes...

Maybe it wasn't the future she'd planned. Maybe it wasn't the path her mother had mapped out. Maybe it wasn't what anyone expected of her.

But maybe, just maybe, it could be better than any plan she'd made for herself.

"Papa est rentré!" Aurélien's voice carried up from downstairs, followed by the clicking of Ocho's nails against the hardwood as the dog abandoned his post by her side.

She could track their movement through the house – Aurélien's heavy footsteps, his voice going soft and silly as he talked to Ocho. "Où est maman? Where's mommy, huh?"

Ocho's excited panting led them right to the bedroom, where she was still sprawled on her back, contemplating existence.

"Should I dissociate with you?," Aurélien teased from the doorway.

"Be my guest."

"Sarcastic ass," he muttered, kissing his teeth, but she heard him toeing off his Nikes before the bed dipped with his weight beside her.

"How's the ankle?"

"Good. Ready for Athletic Club next week."

Then quiet settled over them – not the awkward kind from their early days, but the comfortable silence of two people who'd seen each other at their worst and chosen to stay anyway. The afternoon sun painted shadows across the ceiling, and somewhere below Ocho's collar jingled as he settled.

"Did you know," Aurélien's voice was soft but certain, "that our baby is the size of a raspberry right now?"

The corners of her mouth lifted. "Let me guess – one of your baby apps told you that?"

"Also told me my sperm determined the sex." She could hear the smile in his voice. "So technically, whatever we're having is my fault."

"Everything's your fault."

His chuckle was rich and deep, vibrating through the mattress between them. The sound always did something to her insides, even before all this.

"What do you want?" she asked, turning her head to look at him. "And don't give me that 'as long as it's healthy' bullshit."

He laughed again, caught. "That obvious?"

"That diplomatic. Very PR of you."

His smile went softer as he met her eyes. "A girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." His hand found her stomach. "Little princess to spoil. Someone who looks just like you."

"Poor kid if she gets your height and my curves."

"She'd be perfect." The certainty in his voice made her chest tight. "Just like her mama."

Looking at him in the afternoon light, all earnest eyes and gentle touches, Naz thought maybe dissociating wasn't necessary after all. Maybe this reality was better than anything she could escape to.

"I want a boy," Naz said, turning on her side to face him properly. "A little mama's boy like his daddy."

"I am not a mama's boy-"

"Says the man whose mother confiscated my phone and you didn't even question it."

"That's different," he protested, but his grin gave him away. "And anyway, hopefully not too much of a mama's boy." His voice shifted into an exaggerated Cameroonian accent, clearly imitating his father: "Strong sons, Aurélien! We need strong sons! Not these boys always running to their mothers!"

Naz burst out laughing. "Your dad does not sound like that!"

"You haven't heard him after a few drinks at family gatherings." He kept the accent going. "My son, the footballer! But why you let your mother feed you so much? Where is the discipline?"

"Stop!" She was really giggling now. "Fernand would kill you if he heard this."

"Probably." His voice returned to normal, but his eyes still danced with mischief. "But for real, can you imagine? A little boy with your smile and my footwork?"

"More like your smile and my attitude."

"God help us all," he said with a dramatic eye roll.

She poked his side. "You love my attitude."

"Most days." He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "When you're not being hardheaded."

"Says the most stubborn person in Madrid."

"Second most stubborn. Clearly you're first."

Their laughter faded into something softer, his thumb tracing circles on her wrist.

"Boy or girl though," he said quietly. "They're gonna be so loved."

And that, Naz thought, was probably the truest thing either of them had said all day.

"Should we do a naming ceremony?" Naz asked, watching his long fingers move to trace patterns on her stomach. "Like, is that something your family would expect?"

Aurélien's eyebrows furrowed before his lips curved into that knowing smirk. "Oh, you trying to be African African now?"

She rolled her eyes at his teasing. "I don't know, I've never had a baby before." A pause. "You had one, right?"

"Mhm." His movements were characteristically slow, deliberate as he shifted closer. Those athlete's hands spanning her stomach easily. "Parents even took me back to Cameroon when I was little. Maybe two? Three? After the naming ceremony in France."

His tongue darted out to wet his lips – a tell she'd noticed happened when he was thinking deeply about something.

"Your sister came for that, right? Your mom mentioned she stayed a few weeks when you were born."

"Yeah, Clarisse was there." He sucked his teeth, a habit that came out most when he was being sarcastic or attitude-heavy. "Seven-year-old big sister apparently wasn't too happy about me stealing all the attention."

"But she got over it?"

"Eventually." His swagger was still evident even lying down. "Now she's out in Lagos doing her NGO thing, acting like she wasn't trying to trade me for a puppy when I was born."

"She works with refugees, right?" Naz remembered Yannis bringing it up at dinner. "That's amazing."

"Yeah, she's the real deal. Dad's first wife's daughter but..." He shrugged those broad shoulders. "She's just my sister, you know? Been there my whole life."

"Think she'll come when our baby's born?"

His face softened. "Probably. She already texts Maman asking for updates about you."

"Really?"

"Mhm. Whole family's invested now." His hand slid up to cup her face, those long fingers gentle against her skin. "So yeah, we can do whatever ceremonies you want. Mix it all up – Cameroonian, American, French..."

"You just want an excuse for multiple parties."

He kissed his teeth again, but his eyes were laughing. "Maybe. Or maybe I just want to show off my family."

The way he said it – my family – made something warm bloom in her chest.

"Your African African family?" she teased.

"Quiet," but he was grinning that megawatt smile. "You know what I mean."

And she did. Somehow, impossibly, she really did.

Aurélien pulled his Urus into the training facility lot, catching sight of Denise Bellingham's car dropping off Jude. He shook his head – boy was too grown to still be getting rides from his mama.

"Ay!" He called out after parking, dapping up Jude. "Your barber coming through?"

"Yeah, hitting the house later. You need a cut?"

"Maybe." Aurélien ran a hand over his fade. "Unlike some lightskin pretty boys who can’t go months without a trim."

"Don't hate." Jude flashed that signature grin. "We can't all be blessed like me."

"Blessed? Bro, you don't even drive."

"And? Girls still love me."

"Girls gonna love you less when they find out their man needs his mama for transportation."

Jude just laughed, clearly unbothered. "They still fuck me though."

"You're impossible." Aurélien shook his head, but he was fighting a smile.

"Speaking of impossible..." Jude fell into step beside him as they headed inside. "How's Naz? The baby?"

"Good. She's settling in."

"Cool, cool. So about names-"

"Jude..."

"Hear me out!" His eyes lit up with that mischievous glint. "What about Judah? Biblical, you know? Or Judith for a girl?"

Aurélien kissed his teeth. "We're not naming our baby after you."

"Why not? I'm gorgeous, talented-"

"Humble."

"Exactly!" Jude was properly grinning now. "Plus, think how good Jude Tchouaméni sounds."

"You're actually insane."

"Judette? Judina? We can get creative with it."

"I'm walking away now."

"Jude Junior? JJ for short?"

Aurélien flipped him off without looking back, Jude's laughter echoing through the facility.

"Just think about it!" Jude called after him. "Your kid could be named after a legend!"

"A legend who can't drive!" Aurélien shot back.

Jude's "Still gets more play than you!" followed him into the locker room.

Some things never changed. And maybe that was good – having this normalcy, these friendships, while everything else in his life was shifting.

Even if his best friend was an absolutely shameless lightskin who needed better name suggestions.

*****************************************************

Back on the pitch, everything else faded away. This was where Aurélien lived, where everything made sense. The grass under his boots, the familiar weight of the ball, the rhythm of drills he could do in his sleep.

His ankle felt good – strong. The medical team had done their job, and those endless PT sessions were paying off. He intercepted a pass from Kylian with his usual precision, his body remembering exactly how to move, when to strike.

"Looking good, Tchou!" Carlo called from the sideline. "How's it feeling?"

"Perfect, Coach!" And it was. This was perfect.

They ran positioning drills, the kind of tactical work that made his brain light up. Reading the game, anticipating movements – this was his element. He could feel Jude and Cama watching him carefully at first, probably worried about the ankle, but after his third perfect tackle, they stopped holding back.

"Showing off for the baby mama?" Cama teased after Aurélien executed a particularly clean sliding challenge.

"Nah," he grinned, that familiar swagger returning. "Teaching you how it's done."

The ball felt like an extension of himself, his touches precise, his positioning flawless. Being sidelined had been torture, but maybe it had been good for him. Made him hungry. Made him appreciate this more.

Sweat dripped down his back as they moved into a practice match. This was where he thrived – the chess match of midfield battles, the quick decisions, the perfect passes. His long legs ate up the pitch as he tracked back, intercepted, distributed.

"Damn," he heard Vini mutter after he broke up another attack. "Man came back different."

Different was right. Everything was different now. He had more to play for, more to prove. A family to support, a legacy to build.

The afternoon sun beat down on Madrid's training ground, but Aurélien barely felt it. All he felt was the game, the movement, the pure joy of being back where he belonged.

His ankle didn't even twinge when he launched into a perfectly timed tackle, stealing the ball from Kylian and immediately finding Jude with a long pass.

"Show off," Jude laughed.

But Aurélien just smiled. Because yeah, maybe he was showing off a little. Maybe he wanted to prove something – to himself, to the team, to everyone who'd write stories about how fatherhood might affect his game.

Prove that he could have both. The career and the family. The glory and the responsibility. The pitch and the nursery.

His next tackle was even cleaner, his next pass even sharper.

The water break turned into what it usually did – them clowning around, Kylian showing off some new handshake with Vini while Jude recorded for his Instagram stories.

Then Cama, never one to keep thoughts to himself, had to bring it up: "So you still messing with Destiny or what?"

Vini shrugged, that easy Brazilian swagger intact. "She knows what it is."

"What it is?" Cama grabbed his dreads in disbelief. "Bro, what are you doing?"

"Relax." Vini took a long drink. "I told her to back off, yeah? No trying to get in with the WAGs, no bothering Naz."

"How'd she take that?" Jude asked, putting his phone away.

The look Vini gave them said everything – she hadn't taken it well at all, but she'd agreed. For now.

"You don't know Des like I do though," Cama shook his head. "When she wants something..."

"Bro, she tried to trap you," Kylian cut in. "Tell him."

"Yo," Cama held up his hands. "She was giving me head, right? But wouldn't swallow. Caught her trying to save that shit."

"What the fuck?" Vini's face twisted in disgust.

"Nah for real! That's why I'm telling you-"

"She really tried to..." Jude made a face. "Save it?"

"Like in a cup and everything." Cama was on a roll now. "I told you about her, Vini. That girl's got plans."

Aurélien, who'd been quietly hydrating, felt all eyes turn to him.

"At least Naz was straight up about it," Cama added. "Told you as soon as she found out."

"After you blocked her," Jude reminded him.

"Yeah well..." Aurélien wiped his face with a towel. "We fixed that."

"And now you're having a whole baby," Kylian grinned.

"A baby Jude," Jude added helpfully.

"We're not naming the baby after you-"

"Anyway," Cama cut in, "all I'm saying is be careful, Vini. Des sees you got that new contract..."

"She knows better," Vini insisted, but something flickered in his expression.

"That's what I thought too." Cama took another drink. "Then I caught her with the cup."

The collective grimace that followed had their trainer calling them back to drills. But as they jogged back to position, Aurélien caught Vini's thoughtful look.

Some lessons, he figured, you had to learn the hard way. He just hoped Vini figured it out before he ended up with his own cup story to tell.

******************************************************

The high of training carried through his shower, through the locker room banter, all the way to his car. His body had that good kind of tired – the satisfied ache of doing what he was born to do.

"Tchou!" Carlo caught him before he could leave. "Good session today. Very good."

"Thanks, Coach."

"And..." his coach's knowing smile appeared. "How is everything else? The personal situation?"

Aurélien couldn't help his own smile. "Good. Really good."

"Babies and football," Carlo shook his head fondly. "Changes everything, no? Makes you play... different."

"Different how?"

"More focused. More..." he gestured vaguely. "Complete. You play like a man with purpose now."

The words followed him to his Urus, settled in his chest as he pulled out his phone. Three messages from Naz:

Your mom finally gave me my phone back

Already regret asking for it

But I found a onesie with "Future Midfielder" on it so maybe social media isn't all bad

His fingers flew over the keyboard: Buy it. Buy ten.

Someone's in a good mood

Killed it at training. Ankle's perfect.

My strong baby daddy 💪🏾

He laughed out loud at that, the sound echoing in his car. Then another text:

Found some more nursery stuff. Come look when you're home?

Home. Where Naz was waiting. Where their baby was growing. Where everything made sense in a different way than it did on the pitch, but just as perfectly.

On my way, he typed back. Got something to tell you about Des too.

Tea? 👀

The whole pot bébé

Starting the car, Aurélien felt that same certainty he'd had on the pitch. Different was good. Different was right. Different was exactly where he needed to be.

His ankle didn't even twinge as he pressed the gas. Some things just needed a little time to heal properly. To come back stronger.

Maybe relationships were like that too.

…………………tbd

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Autograph

Season Three Episode Seven

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 6438

Series Masterlist

Summary: When the team is called in on a case involving the reader’s notorious ex, they all must set aside their frustration to stop a kidnapper. 

Notes: You thought you’d get a break from the drama, huh? Not yet, baby. We have to insert some angst and backstory after all the grieving. Mwahahaha. 

-

You held the invitation with a shaking hand, your whole body vibrating with anger. 

Brian Calvin, PHD, invites you to the release of his new book, Don’t Blow Out the Candles: The Story Behind the Birthday Cake Killings followed by a fundraiser gala for the victims of violent crimes. All guests will be treated to a reading from the book and a panel with Dr. Calvin. Events will be held at the Rayson Hotel, April 14th beginning with the reading at 5:00.

A note beneath was written by hand. 

I hope you’ll be my guest of honor. 

Love, Brian.

The nerve of the bastard.

You didn’t know which you wanted to rip apart more, the invitation or the man who sent it. Instead, you focused on making breakfast and a pot of coffee for the sleeping agent back in your bed. 

Spencer was sleeping in for the first time in weeks. With case after case, it felt like there was no end to the travel or the work. You weren’t faring much better when it came to free time. When you weren’t interviewing prisoners or taking care of Jack, you were planning a fall wedding. October, just like when you met. 

And now Calvin thought he could waltz back in and ruin it all over again. Well, he was going to have to try a little harder than a goddamn party. 

The padding of footsteps on the floor pulled you from your focus on eggs you were scarcely close to burning. 

“Morning,” you greeted, giving Spence a smile to show nothing was wrong. 

He saw right through it, of course. “Good morning.” Spencer kissed your cheek and sat at the table to pick up one of his books that went over your head. He spotted the invitation you left on the counter. “What’s this?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You dropped the spatula and reached for the paper before he could get a closer look, but he was too quick. 

His brows shot up. “Brian Calvin?” 

“Spence-”

“As in the professor that pushed you further into an addiction that almost killed you? As in your ex, Brian Calvin?” 

“That would be the one.” You threw the invitation in the trash and went back to breakfast. “Guess I know what he’s been up to all these years.” You took a shaky breath and shook your head. “Damn good title, though.” 

“Does Hotch know?” Spencer asked. 

“Spence, I just opened it,” You sighed. “No. Nobody knows.” You plated eggs for him and yourself and sat across from him. “And besides, it doesn’t matter.”

“He wrote a book about what he did to you like it’s noble,” he said. “Of course, it matters.” 

“Yeah, well, he isn’t the first person to paint me in a bad light and he probably won’t be the last.” Pushing your food around with your fork, you stared out the window. “I’m surprised people haven’t blamed me for Haley, too.” 

Spence crossed over to you, kneeling at your side. He took your hand in his and brought it up to his lips. 

“Is that what you think?” 

“I’m fine, Spence.” You kissed his forehead, rustling his hair. “I’m just in a mood now. You don’t have to worry.” 

A small, but sweet smile graced his face. “I always worry.” 

“I know, and it’s very touching, but you are going to be late for work.” You brought his lips to yours for a brief kiss. “I made some extra coffee for you to take with you.” 

Spence stood and poured some in a travel mug. He didn’t look at you, but you could tell where his mind was at with his next words. “Any interviews today?”  

“Do you get this worried when Prentiss talks to inmates?” 

He snorted. “Prentiss carries a gun. And you may be scary, Y/N, but I hate to break it to you.” He leaned on the counter. “She’s scarier.” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but he made too good of a point. “Fair enough. But that doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job.” 

“Did I say anything to the contrary?” He held up his hands. “I am your fiance. I’m sorry if you being locked in a room with murderous felons isn’t on my list of things I’m comfortable with.” Spence scarfed down the rest of his breakfast. “I just wish you could be amazing at your job on the other side of bulletproof glass.”

“Right back at you, baby,” you teased. “Now go, get out of here before Aaron chews your ass for being late.” 

“Alright, I’m going.” He started for the door but hurried back for one more kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Dr. Reid. Go save somebody today.” 

“Let’s hope we don’t have to.” 

When the door closed behind him, you remembered that you had somewhere to be as well. 

You managed to get to your office with a few minutes to spare and look over your files before you had to present a study to your boss. The door to your office was open when you got there. 

“Y/N,” Dr. Brian Calvin leaned on your desk. “It’s been a while.” 

-

JJ laid the files in front of them and clicked to display the series of photos on the screen. “Georgetown sophomore, Riley Beaumont, was reported missing by her roommate two days ago. Last night, police received this.”

She clicked again, displaying a scanned poster, vandalized with what looked to be lipstick. 

A flier for Brian Calvin’s book release, written over with the words:

You owe us. 

On the back was a short letter, detailing Riley’s kidnapping and demanding that his book release be stopped. Or she dies. 

Spencer accidentally crushed his coffee cup between his long fingers, splashing it over the desk. 

“Damnit,” he exclaimed. 

Everyone turned and stared. 

“S-sorry.” 

“Brian Calvin,” Prentiss said. “Why do I know that name?” Her eyes widened, still looking at Spencer. “Wait, like… Y/N’s Brian Calvin.”

“Dr. Calvin is a criminal justice professor at Georgetown.” Hotch stood. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his discomfort behind his usual stoicism. “He has been suspected multiple times for violating the college’s policy on teacher-student relationships, but since no one has ever formally come forward, he’s never been fired.” He glanced at Reid. “Including Y/N.” 

“Should we be working this?” Penelope asked. “Isn’t it a kind of conflict of interest if some of us want to hit the guy where the sun doesn’t shine?” 

JJ shrugged. “There aren’t any-”

“Other teams available,” Rossi finished with a sigh. He tapped his finger on the desk. “Who knew being so popular was so exhausting?”

“So what’s our game plan here?” Morgan asked. 

Hotch turned to the picture on the screen. “First, we meet with Dr. Calvin.”

“And by we, you mean, not you, right?” Dave asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go with JJ to his office. See what he knows.”

Hotch nodded, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. 

“Don’t want you breaking any more noses just yet.” Rossi gave him a pat on the back and turned to JJ. The two of them headed out.

“You broke this guys’ nose?” Prentiss asked. 

Morgan scoffed. “Wouldn’t you?” 

“Morgan, Reid, I want the two of you looking into Riley Beaumont’s last known whereabouts before she was taken,” Hotch said. “Prentiss and I will see what we can find out from Y/N.”

Prentiss blinked. “Should Reid-”

“We have to treat this like any other case and he’s more useful elsewhere.” Hotch looked at the younger agent, who reluctantly nodded in agreement. Once Reid left, Hotch lowered his voice and turned to Prentiss. “And Y/N has a harder time hiding things from me. With Reid, she’s…”

“Right,” Prentiss said, understanding. 

Everyone knew that, no matter how much the young agent reassured you, you still always wanted to protect him. Old habits, and all of that.

“If she knows something, we’ll find out.”

“Isn’t that a little intense?” Prentiss raised a brow. “Interrogating your own sister?” 

“That’s why you’re going to be asking the questions.” 

She sighed. “Well, she’s as stubborn as you are, so this will be fun.”

“Prentiss,” he said, “we both know she’s worse.” He gave her a teasing look before glancing back at the screen and frowning at the face of the man who almost killed you. 

-

“So, you want me to, what? Help you figure out who took her? Or speak at your event?” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest in a way that felt protective. A part of you just wanted to call security.  

“Ideally, both, but I’m mostly here about Riley, of course.”

“You’ve gotten worse at lying, Brian.” 

He laughed. God, you hated that laugh. “Yes, the release is very important to me. But would I sacrifice the well-being of a young woman for money?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” 

Your phone buzzed on your desk. Call from Spencer. You ignored it, but Brian didn’t. 

“Seeing someone?” 

“I’m definitely not going to answer that.” You tucked your hand in your pocket to hide the ring, but then you thought better of it. Let him see it. Let him see how far you’ve come after him. How much better you’re doing. 

“You seem to have made quite the life for yourself.” He circled your office. A vulture picking for scraps. “That’s good. Good for you.”

“Is there anything else you want, Brian, because you already have your answer.” 

“Y/N,” he chided, “I thought you’d have more compassion. I haven’t heard anything from Riley in days and I’m getting worried. With the nature of your work, I was hoping you’d help.”

“No, you were hoping you’d get a quote for your book,” you spat. 

He laughed again. 

A knock at the door was a relief until you saw who it was. 

Aaron froze in the doorway, Emily peaking in behind him. 

Brian took a step back and, subsequently, closer to you. “Agent Hotchner.” For a moment, all of his cocky arrogance faded into a flicker of fear. 

It made Emily smirk. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Brian asked, feigning confidence again. 

“They’re probably at my office to speak to me.” You motioned for them to come in. 

Aaron stuck to the far wall. Emily pushed in behind him, closing the door. 

“We actually just sent two agents to your office, Dr. Calvin.”

You kept your eyes on your brother. “This is about Riley, isn’t it?”  

“Is she dead?” Brian asked. 

“Until she’s found, we have to assume she’s alive,” Emily said. She kept her tone even, professional. “But we believe she has been taken by someone who wants to get back at you, Dr. Calvin.” 

“What does that have to do with me?” You let your arms fall to your sides. 

“We believe whoever took Riley may have been a student of yours,” Aaron answered, addressing Brian. Then, to you, “We need to know if you know anyone else who may want to prevent this book from coming out.” 

You scoffed. “You mean, does he have any enemies other than me?” 

“Are you my enemy, Y/N?” Brian pretended to sound offended. 

You stepped towards him, trapping him between you and Prentiss. “Stop asking questions you really don’t want me to answer, Brian.” 

“Alright, alright.” He cleared his throat to hide his discomfort. “Since you obviously aren’t here for me-” He started to leave, but Aaron stepped in front of the door. 

“We’d actually like to talk to you as well, Dr. Calvin.” 

“And I am more than willing to do that,” Brian smiled, “once I call my lawyer.”

“Seriously?” You exclaimed. 

“Or, Y/N can agree to speak at my gala.” He turned to you, crossing his arms. “Your choice, Miss Y/L/N.”

“It’s doctor.” You and Emily snapped at the same time. 

He raised a brow. 

“You want to impede a federal investigation for a book sale?” Prentiss asked. 

“I’ll do it,” you blurted. 

Aaron’s eyes switched over to you, darkening. 

“I will make an appearance at the event,” you said. “But I won’t get up on stage and if I’m asked, I’ll tell the truth about how you know about me.” 

Brian’s jaw tightened and relaxed. He grinned. “Very well. It’s a deal… doctor.”

“Prentiss,” Hotch said. 

She nodded. “Follow me, Dr. Calvin. The other agents will be here to question you soon.” She ushered him out with one hand clenched at her side. 

You sat at your desk, running your fingers through your hair. 

“That is a bad idea,” Aaron said. 

“Riley doesn’t have time for him to hide behind his lawyer.” You checked your phone. 

I wanted to make sure you’re okay after this morning. I love you. 

You sighed. 

“Reid?”

“He saw the invitation from Brian this morning.” 

“What did you tell him?”

“That it wasn’t a big deal.” Setting your phone back on your desk, you looked up at him. “Obviously, I didn’t know about this mess.” 

Aaron took the seat across from you. “So, what do you know?” 

-

Since the case was local, the meet-up took place at the BAU. Prentiss conducted a formal interview with you at her desk while Hotch kept Dr. Calvin in an interrogation room. The rest of the team arrived in similar states of irritation. Morgan gave you a pat on the arm on his way to talk to Hotch. Rossi went immediately to his office to find out what he could about the hotel where the event was being hosted. Friends in high places and all that. 

Reid stood at the glass doors, looking in. He gripped the strap of his bag across his chest. 

“What’s that look? I don’t like that look,” Garcia shuffled towards him in her heels and bright purple skirt. “Is he here? Did that creep say something to you?”

“I haven’t seen him yet.” The thought still gave him the jitters and he’d spilled his only cup of coffee. 

“Do you think he’ll still go through with it?” She asked. “The party, I mean.”

“Whenever we deal with kidnappers, we never want to just give them what they want,” Reid explained. He sighed. “And from what Y/N’s said about him… I don’t think it would matter anyway.”

He gave her a thin-lipped smile and pushed open the door. 

Your eyes found his as soon as he walked in, his gaze asking if you were okay. You nodded and answered Emily’s question, trying to focus back on her.

“No, I haven’t spoken to him since I found out about the book.” Rubbing the back of your neck, you shifted in your seat. Even though you knew this place, you knew her, you’d never be comfortable being interviewed. “I kind of made a point to avoid anything to do with him.”

“So you wouldn’t know if he saw other women after you? Other students?”

You scoffed. “He saw them before me, why not after?” 

Spence sat at his desk, just across from where Emily was talking to you. 

“Do you know anyone who would want to stop this book from coming out?” 

You shook your head, exhaling slowly, shakily. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help more. But I haven’t had any contact with him since I was a teenager.” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Emily reached a hand to hold yours. Guilt was starting to weigh on you and she could see it. “We’re going to figure this out.” She gripped your hand a little tighter before standing up to talk to your brother. 

Spencer was beside you in seconds. 

“I didn’t know, this morning, I swear,” you said.

His brows drew together. “I know.”

“If I could tell you anything that would help find this girl, you know I would, right?” Your voice trembled along with your bottom lip. “I wouldn’t hide any-” You sucked in a breath. 

He laid a hand on your cheek. 

“This isn’t your fault, Y/N.” 

“I-”

He slid his chair even closer, knees brushing yours as he looked deep into your eyes. “It isn’t.” 

You looked over his shoulder where Brian was coming out of the room. 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed off.” You swallowed hard and tried to give your fiance a reassuring smile. “Thanks, Spence.” Running your fingers through his hair, you let every strand slip by your skin, down to his shoulder. “Your hair has gotten long.”

“Do you think I should cut it?” 

You shrugged. You liked it however it was. 

Brian’s phone rang. You watched his face fall and you knew. 

“It’s her.” 

-

The kidnapper’s demands changed. 

A public apology. At the gala. In front of everyone. 

And you. 

“I don’t think you should do this,” Aaron said, straightening his tie. You’d found him getting ready in one of the station’s offices. 

“Yeah, well, I already bought the dress so you’re stuck with me.” 

If the team was going to blend in, then they had to go with the dress code. Black tie, formal gowns, the whole deal. You felt like a Barbie, dressed up by an over-enthusiastic child in a floor-length, one-strapped, lavender gown. 

“We are giving the unsub what they want. You know that isn’t going to help.”

You snorted. “If the unsub wants an apology from Brian Calvin, they’re going to be waiting a long time to get it.”

“You don’t think he’ll bend to the demands?”

“Do you?” 

Aaron inhaled. He shook his head. 

You fixed his tie again. 

“Good. Then let’s go.” 

You both walked back out into the station where the rest of the team waited in formal attire of their own. JJ and Emily wore fine dresses, silver and red respectively. Even Derek had put on a tux. 

“Alright, everyone, let’s go over this again,” Aaron started, addressing the team and the police alike. “There will be officers at every entrance to the building checking the guests coming in, but there’s a chance the unsub is already inside. They will be there tonight. They feel that Dr. Calvin owes them this. They will want to hear it first hand.” He motioned for you to step forward. “Dr. Y/L/N cannot leave anyone’s sight. She might not be the direct target, but she is a vital part of the unsub’s desire to see Dr. Calvin pay for the harm they believe he’s inflicted on them.”  

“Keep an eye out for a young woman, early twenties,” Dave said. “She’ll be distressed, jumpy. And she’ll want to get as close to Dr. Calvin as possible.”

Your head snapped to Spencer. They hadn’t told you that part. 

“Dr. Y/L/N will be entering in the back accompanied by Dr. Reid while I address the press that will likely be swarming the front,” Aaron added. He knew if he gave them at least himself as the sacrificial lamb, maybe they wouldn’t hound you. 

As the officers and team were dismissed, you leaned over to your brother, both of you heading for the door.

“How do you know it’s a young woman?”

He frowned, eyes dark. “We think she may have had a relationship with Brian.”

“Like me,” you said, understanding. “That’s why she wants me there.” 

“She sees you as a mirror of herself. There’s a chance she’ll try to reason with you, to make you see her side.” He put a hand on your arm. “If she approaches you, find one of us immediately, do you understand?” 

“Stay away from Brian’s kidnapping ex, got it.” 

You gathered up the skirt of your dress to keep from tripping on the fabric as you climbed into the SUV. Spencer got in the driver’s seat. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.  

You rubbed the silky material between your fingers. “No.” You leaned your head back in the headrest and sighed. “I hate how much he’s gotten away with. How much hurt can he put into the world that it pushes someone to do something like this?”

Spencer’s eyes softened, laying a hand on yours. 

“People will see him for who he really is.”

“And what about these women? One is so messed up because of him that she took this girl. And now, Riley will never be the same. Who knows what she’s gone through because of all of this?” You blinked back frustrated tears. Spencer’s hand moved to your cheek. 

“Come here,” he said softly, pulling you to him. His kiss brought you back to the moment and let the tension in your shoulders relax, at least for a little while. When he parted from you, he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out. And so will they.” He tucked a hair behind your ear. “You look beautiful by the way.”

You rolled your eyes but managed to smile. “Just drive to the hotel, Romeo.”

He pulled away from the curb with his fingers tight around the steering wheel. 

-

While Aaron battled the media circus out front, Spencer snuck you in through the back, just as you all had planned. Guests were already piling into the ballroom, waiting to get a glimpse of the famed subject of Brian’s book. All you saw was the same crowds that hounded you when you were a teenager. 

You froze in the doorway, your dress suddenly feeling like a vise, constricting any breath from reaching your lungs. 

Spence felt your hand tug on his when you stopped. He held it a little tighter. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “Just keep looking at me. Focus on me, okay?” 

You still remained in the door. He brought your hand to his lips. The musicians began. Spence gently pulled you into the room and, sticking to the edge of the floor to keep you away from the swarm, started to dance. Spencer held you close and swayed to the tune of the band’s first song. 

“Oh my god it’s her,” someone said.

“That’s Lydia Y/L/N’s daughter, the one the book’s about.”

You flinched. 

Spencer put a finger under your chin. “Just keep looking at me.” 

He took a breath. 

You took a breath. 

He smiled. 

You managed to smile back. 

As the rest of the guests filed in, so did the rest of the team. Prentiss found you first, but hung back. She watched you and Reid dance, focused solely on each other. Morgan caught up with her and she put a hand on his arm to stop him from interrupting.

“What?” He asked. 

She grinned. “Look.” 

Both agents observed from the edge of the room as you and Reid were slowly joined by other couples taking to the floor. 

“I can’t believe they’re getting married,” Prentiss said. 

Derek chuckled. “They grow up so fast.”

“No, I mean-” she rolled her eyes, nudging him. “After everything they’ve been through, there they are. Still standing. Still together. How many cases have we worked where tragedy drives people apart?”

He thought for a moment. “I guess they aren’t just people. It’s Y/N and Reid.” He hooked an arm through hers. “If anyone could do it, it’s them. Come on. We should start looking.” 

Listening to the music, and looking at Spencer, you could almost forget everything. Almost.

“Are you thinking about her?” He asked, noticing the shift in your expression. 

“Actually, no.” It was almost funny, how it came to mind now. “I just thought about that case. From about a month ago? The one from Ashburn that turned into all the parents coming to the BAU.” 

“Roger and Anita Roycewood, I remember.” Spencer’s brows furrowed. “What made you think of them?” 

“Not so much them, I guess.” You pulled back in step with the song and returned to him with a spin. “I think it’s all of this. When I was with Brian, everything was always about what I couldn’t have. I’d never have a normal family to go back to for winter break. Any relationship I had would be tainted with my mother’s fears. And I could never have kids myself, because I wouldn’t be able to handle it and I’d break just like she did.” Saying it felt like a weight lifted from you, but also made it harder to breathe. “He convinced me that I needed him. That I was damaged goods.” Laying your hands on his chest, you looked into his eyes. “But he was wrong. About all of it.”

Spence gave you a small smile and kissed your lips gently. Suddenly, he froze, your words sinking in. 

“Wait, do you mean-”

The shriek of feedback interrupted him. 

Brian stood on the small stage on the far side of the room. “Good evening everybody.”

The music lulled to a stop and the crowd stood still. Your hand slipped down to hold Spencer’s, gripping tightly. 

“First, I want to thank you all for being here. It really warms my heart that this book- this project that has been a major part of my life for so many years, in so many ways-” His eyes fell to you. “Has received so much support.”

Hotch remained stoic, but Rossi knew him better. 

“You know, his nose is still crooked, don’t you think?” Dave said. 

Aaron didn’t react. “She should be here.”

“She’s a vengeance-seeking, kidnapping woman in the middle of a severe breakdown,” Dave shrugged. “She might have just lost track of time.” 

Brian continued. “I won’t stand up here, just talking about myself though. No, tonight I have a very special guest with me. This person is not only the inspiration for this story, but also a dear personal friend.” 

You clung to Spencer like he was the one thing keeping you from spinning out into the chaos that surrounded you. Despite Brian’s taunting, both of you stayed on alert, watching for anything out of place. Somewhere here was a woman who’d been hurt by the same man who almost destroyed you. She was desperate for someone to understand her. 

“A-are you Y/N?” A small voice wavered, so quiet you almost didn’t hear her. 

Spence turned first and pushed himself in front of you. 

“Riley Beaumont?” 

A young girl held her coat closed, arms crossed over her chest, and eyes red with tears. 

“I need y-your help.” 

“Y/N, why don’t you come up here?” Brian announced, grinning. 

A bright light landed on you just as Riley’s coat fell open, revealing the vest beneath. 

“Oh my god.” 

The crowd erupted in gasps and applause, none of them noticing the pale figure in front of you. Their sick excitement fueled every clap, like spectators, waiting to watch the lion devour its victim. But you stared at the flashing lights strapped beneath the jacket of a terrified young woman. 

Riley’s lip trembled. “Please.” 

Spencer spoke into the piece on his shoulder. 

“Hotch, Riley Beaumont is here,” he said. “She’s standing in front of me…she has a bomb.” 

The claps died down into confusion. 

“Alright, Y/N, don’t be shy,” Brian said, voice getting impatient. “Come on up here.” 

“She said if you go up there, she’ll-” Riley’s voice hitched in a sob. “Please don’t leave me.”

You stepped forward and took her hand. 

“Y/N, don’t-” Spence tried to pull you back, but you stayed. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Riley.” 

“If you’ll all give me just a moment.” Brian walked off stage calmly, then stormed through the crowd towards you. “What the hell are you-” His eyes widened. “Oh my god.” 

“Dr. Calvin, stay back,” Spencer said. 

“She’s insane, Brian gasped. 

“If you aren’t going to be helpful, you should probably get out of here,” you hissed, still holding Riley’s hand. 

“Hotch, we need to clear this crowd.” Spencer, still holding onto your arm, swallowed hard as he looked around the room. 

People were starting to notice. 

“Please help me,” Riley cried. “I-I just want to go home.”

“Riley, sweetheart, I’m so sorry this is happening,” Brian said. 

“To her or to you?” You snapped before you could stop yourself. 

Brian’s gaze shifted to yours slowly with an anger you remembered well. Any time you embarrassed him in front of a colleague or said something about his research, that was the look he’d give you. And, at the time, it always made you shrink back in line. 

But you’d faced far worse than him. 

“I don’t really think we want to get into this now,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“You’re right.” You turned away from him, from Spencer’s panicking looks. “You need to get out of here. Both of you.”

“What? No,” Spencer said. 

Brian, however, was already pushing back through the now retreating crowd. 

“Go find Aaron. Get everyone out of here.” You tried not to wince through the iron grip Riley kept on your hand, nearly crushing. 

“Y/N, I am a federal agent on this case, I’m not going to leave two civilians alone with a possible explosive.” 

“Are you really pulling the fed card right now?”

Spencer’s eyes widened and his voice went up an octave. “Yes!” 

You exhaled, letting your annoyance distract you from the fact that you were staring down a bomb.

“Riley, is there anything you can tell me about the woman who brought you here?” Spence asked. He stood as close to you as possible, an arm around your waist like he was ready to pull you away. 

Riley sniffed, trying to think. “She just kept saying she was sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Spencer asked. 

“She said she didn’t want to hurt me. That Brian had done that enough, but I don’t understand. Why does she hate him so much?” She choked back another sob. “I want to go home.” 

You lowered your voice for only Spencer to hear. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“She could just be trying to reassure her so she wouldn’t resist.”

“I think it’s more than that.” 

Spencer narrowed his eyes, getting a closer look at the vest.

At the other side of the ballroom, Hotch fought through the rush of gowns and overpriced suits stampeding for the door. 

“Great, it’s you,” Dr. Calvin said, grabbing him by the arm. “Get me out of here.” 

Hotch pulled away, trying to see over the waves of panicked faces. “Where is Dr. Reid and Y/N?”

“This bitch is after me, isn’t she? Isn’t it your job to stop her from killing me?”

“It’s my job to make sure everyone in here is safe.” He clenched his jaw, took a breath, and turned. “But you’re right. We need to get you somewhere secure.”

Brian almost sighed with relief. “Thank God.” 

Hotch resisted the urge to roll his eyes and focused on the matter at hand. “Reid, where are you?” 

No answer. 

His chest tightened.

“Reid.”

Spencer stared intently at the vest beneath Riley’s coat. You did the same, taking in every flashing light, every pocket that seemed full of a dangerous substance. But looking closer…

“Are those Christmas lights?” You asked.

Spencer pressed his earpiece. “It’s a decoy.”

“What?” Multiple voices responded.

“The bomb is a fake. It’s a diversion.”

Hotch snapped his head back to Dr. Calvin, who was scrambling towards the exit. People swarmed around him, all dressed in ostentatious attire better fit for a medieval ball than a book release. All but one. Hotch spotted the hooded figure just as they pulled out a gun. 

“Dr. Calvin!” He shouted. 

The shot went off just after Prentiss jerked the figure’s arm up, aiming the pistol at the ceiling. People screamed and ran faster towards the exits. Little pieces of plaster floated down like snow. 

“Let me go!” A woman screamed. She thrashed in Prentiss’ grip, fighting to get the gun back on her target. “You don’t know what he’s done! Let me go!” 

The hood fell to reveal a young woman and the lump in Hotch’s throat grew. She was younger than you, tears streaking down her face from wild, devastated eyes. 

“Reid, we’ve found her.” 

Spencer carefully opened Riley’s coat and flipped the switch that turned off the lights on the vest. The girl collapsed into your arms in a huddle of sobs and you did your best to hold her upright. 

“We need a medic,” Spence said. 

“Thank you,” Riley bawled. “Thank you.” 

Once Riley was taken care of, you made your way back to the team, where Mary Anne Simons waited in the back of a police car, mascara running down her face. When you saw her, you froze. 

“I know her,” you whispered. 

JJ stood next to you, Spence having to give a report on the false bomb. “What?”

“She was in classes with me, a year or so younger. I had no idea Brian and her-” Your voice caught in your throat. “She was such a sweet kid. Why would she do this?” 

JJ looked down. 

Your stomach dropped. 

“What did he do?”

She cleared her throat, eyes softening when they met yours. “There’s a video.” She continued even as your face fell. “Apparently, it circulated around some website and her face was visible in it and-” JJ put a hand on your shoulder. “We’re going to make sure she gets help, Y/N.”

You ran a shaky hand down your face and nodded. “Good. That’s good.” 

JJ opened her mouth to say something else, but she can’t seem to find the words. So, instead, she pulled you into a hug. 

You breathed through a quiet cry, keeping your tears at bay solely for Riley’s benefit. The poor girl looked scared enough as it was, sitting in the back of the ambulance, waiting for her parents to arrive and take her home. 

“Well, this certainly didn’t go the way I had hoped,” Brian said. “But it’ll make one hell of a story.” 

You tensed in JJ’s embrace and turned slowly. 

“And I’m sure you’ll find the right audience for it,” you said through a tight smile. “Someplace else.” 

“Don’t be like that, Y/N, sweetie,” he smiled. “I’m actually planning on another book I’d love your help with.” Brian held up his hands in an arch. “No Tears for the Reaper.” 

“Dr. Calvin, maybe you should-” JJ tried to deescalate, but he kept going.

“It’s fascinating, you know.” Brian leaned against the hood of the police car where the woman who’d tried to kill him just moments ago now sat within. “It’s like you’re a magnet for this, Y/N. Cursed with serial killers. Or maybe it’s your brother.” He shrugged like he was discussing golf rather than the deaths of dozens. “I’ve been wondering. Your nephew, Jack. Was he there when his mother got blown to hell?” 

It happened fast. So fast, you didn’t realize it was happening until the pain spread down from your knuckles, shooting like lightning up your arm. But the moment your fist collided with Brian’s face, it seemed all of the commotion around you stopped. 

“Oh sh-” JJ rushed to grab you as you readied another hit. 

“Will that work for your story, you washed-up, talentless, two-faced bastard!” You screamed. 

“You little bitch.” Brian started towards you but was stopped by a strong arm. 

“I don’t think so, pal,” Derek growled. He yanked Brian’s arm behind his back.

“What are you doing? She’s the one you should be after. Look what she did to my nose.” Brian whined, spitting out the blood that had leaked from his twice-broken nose into his mouth. “I’m the victim here! That crazy woman almost shot me, and now this one attacked me for no reason!” 

Spencer walked towards you all, hands in his pockets and a furious smile gracing his lips. “There’s something you should know about Mary Anne, Dr. Calvin. She was a prodigy before she met you. Top of her class. Brilliant. Graduated high school early so she could get a jump start on a promising career in psychology.” He leaned forward. “She was seventeen.”

“Brian Calvin, you are under arrest for the production and distribution of child pornography and statutory rape.” Derek grabbed his other arm, wrenching it back to cuff his wrists. 

“What?” Brian’s eyes widened. “She told me she was eighteen. I didn’t know. I swear.” 

“You have the right to remain silent,” Emily added. “And right now, that might be in your best interests, professor.” 

As Derek and Emily dragged the kicking man off, you turned to your fiance with shock and a sore hand. 

“Is that true?”

Spence nodded. “He’d better hope this book money can buy him a good lawyer.” He took his hand out of his pocket and laid a gentle touch on your arm. “Are you okay?” 

“She’s going to need an icepick for that right hook.” Derek sauntered back toward you, grinning. “That’s my girl.” 

“Remind me why I saved that guy to begin with?” Emily muttered. 

Hotch finished talking to the local authorities and rejoined the team, looking as stern as ever. 

“We’re finished here,” he said. “We should get moving before the media circus starts.” His eyes met yours.

You nodded. 

On your way back to your car, he leaned over. “Nice hit.”

You smirked. “Learned from the best.” 

-

Spencer came out of the shower with steam billowing out after him. He found you sitting on the bed, nursing your bruising hand with a package of frozen Brussels sprouts. 

“Does it hurt?” He asked gently, taking a seat beside you, still running the towel over his wet hair. 

You shrugged. “It was worth it.” 

He took the bag from you, bringing your hand into his so he could examine it. Nothing too serious, thankfully. His hold lingered, eyes lifted to yours. 

“Are you okay?”

You blew out a breath. “Spence-”

“You just stood next to a ticking bomb and held on like it was nothing,” he said. 

“It wasn’t a real bomb.”

“That isn’t the point.” 

Laying your head on his shoulder, you breathed in the scent of his shampoo. Apple, mixed with his usual smell of ink and old books. You clung to it. 

“I’m okay, Spencer.” You turned your head to kiss his shoulder. “And I will talk about it. I’ll talk about all of it. About Brian. About Mary Anne. About the book.” Looking into his face, you ran a thumb over his bottom lip with a sigh. “But I don’t want to talk now.”

The parting of your lips answered the questions in his head. 

Spencer nodded slowly and, careful of your hand, laid you back onto the bed, arms wrapping around you as you turned off the light.

[zeroseuniverse]

NCT 127 – When You Have a Hot/Badass Role in a Drama

Johnny – Loudly Supportive but Jokingly Jealous

Johnny replayed the scene again. You crossed your arms, watching him watch you. "Y/N, we need to talk," he said dramatically, pausing the screen. You sighed. "What now?" "How am I supposed to compete with this?" He pointed at the screen. "You’re kicking ass, looking hot, and being effortlessly cool while I’m just here… existing?" You laughed, shoving him lightly. "Johnny, you’re the one with the fan club." "Yeah, well, my fan club just became your fan club." He huffed, wrapping an arm around you. "I’m never letting you out of my sight again."

Taeyong – Your Biggest Fanboy

Taeyong had his hands clasped together, eyes wide with excitement as he watched you take down three guys at once in the drama. "No way—no way—THAT WAS SO COOL!" You laughed at his enthusiasm. "You liked it?" "Liked it?! I LOVED IT!" He grabbed your hands, shaking them. "I knew you were talented, but this? This is next-level!" You raised an eyebrow. "So you’re saying you didn’t expect me to be this cool?" He paused, then grinned. "I mean, I always knew you were cool, but now the whole world knows it too!"

Yuta – Loving the Badass Energy

As soon as the credits rolled, Yuta turned to you with the biggest smirk. "Damn." You raised an eyebrow. "Damn, what?" He leaned closer. "Damn, I think I just fell in love all over again." You rolled your eyes. "Oh, please." "No, really." He rested his chin on his hand. "Should I start calling you 'boss' now? You were ruthless in that scene." "Shut up." He chuckled. "Make me."

Doyoung – Pretends to Judge, Secretly Smitten

Doyoung crossed his arms, watching you intensely on the screen. When the scene ended, he let out a dramatic sigh. "Tsk. You’re too good at this role." You smirked. "Is that jealousy I hear?" He scoffed. "No. It’s concern. Now you have every single person in the world crushing on you." You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. "But you got me first." Doyoung pretended to think. "That’s true… I win."

Jaehyun – Lowkey Losing His Mind

Jaehyun had been silent the entire time, watching the screen like his life depended on it. When the credits rolled, he finally spoke. "…You didn’t tell me it was this intense." You smirked. "Would it have changed anything?" "Yes," he said immediately. "I would’ve prepared myself." You nudged him. "For what?" He looked at you seriously. "For my heart literally stopping every time you did something badass."

Jungwoo – Half Impressed, Half Overdramatic

Jungwoo placed a hand on his chest as the episode ended. "This is too powerful. I can’t handle it." You laughed. "What do you mean?" "I mean look at you!" He waved dramatically at the screen. "You’re cool, hot, and strong. Meanwhile, I’m just sitting here, wondering if I should start working out again." You kissed his cheek. "You’re perfect as you are." Jungwoo sighed. "I guess. But if people start calling you the badass in this relationship, I might cry."

Mark – Wowed Beyond Words

Mark’s jaw had been open for the past five minutes. "Dude," he finally said. "Wait, hold on—you did that?! That’s crazy!" You laughed. "Well, yeah. That’s kind of the point of acting, Mark." "But it was so real!" He pointed at the screen. "Like, I know you’re acting, but I still got scared!" You smirked. "Good. That means I did my job." Mark shook his head, still processing. "Man… you’re something else."

Haechan – Obsessed and Won’t Shut Up About It

As soon as your scene ended, Haechan turned to you with an exaggerated look of betrayal. "Okay, so when were you gonna tell me that you could do all that?" You smirked. "Didn’t think it was that important." "Not important?!" He clutched his chest. "You were literally the coolest person in that episode!" You shrugged. "So… you liked it?" "Liked it?!" He scoffed. "I’m never shutting up about this."

[klissblog]

Dear @lu-kario

Oh, obviously! The author totally said it's not the answer because it's "just a hint." And that hint? Oh, it's in quotation marks—so clear, right? He said the readers can imagine whatever But surprise, surprise! The author actually *wants* them to get married.

And for you who still not getting it: After I posted, I guess tons of Reddit users sent DMs asking if it's true. I asked the author for confirmation, and guess what? He even drew the art and tweeted about it, explaining it was for a high schooler putting on a drama show. He’s totally happy to draw a flyer on his own (which refers to my theory. Coincidence?) and happy if you use it—but the kanji’s wrong, so don’t use it. But hey, I’m not using it with kanji, and no, I don’t think anyone *forced or harassed* him to draw or tweet it. But once again, no one can force or harass him to be happy and do anything he doesn’t want to.

Does this all make sense to you now, or is it still too complex and still thinks I harassed him to make Saiteru canon? Oh, and by the way, that's why I suggested you support the author's *favorite* ship. But, sure, what's your next move? Are you going to ask me to post all the private conversations for you? I hope you’ve got some manners and won’t ask, because I won’t show them. It’s private, you know? But if you're still clinging to any last shred of reflection, maybe try sending your own theory to the author and *harass* him to make Makoto and Kusuke marry. Yeah, you said you wouldn’t, but that’s your problem, not mine.

Seriously, take a good look at your own actions of being a police or a guardian of protecting *misinfo*. How do you feel when you’re wrong?Please mind your own business and *butt off*!

from a character guidebook.

The author = saiki.

When the author expresses, "I want Saiki and Teruhashi to marry," meaning that Saiki has chosen Teruhashi and he wants to marry her ❤️❤️

[freedarick]

Just watched this Anime called Ai No Kusabi the other day (2 OVAs, kind of old) and it was surprisingly good yaoi!

[orphanbychoice]

atp i genuinely doooon’t care if the old guard two is the worst thing put to film i just want to see the best character of all time (andromache the scythian) and her loser henchmen and everyone’s favorite girl nile freeman again

[burning-sol]

You know what? I realise why the Sinsmas episode is pissing me off so much, it's because it's juggling so many different ideas that it doesn't spend enough time committed to a single one. Let me just break it down the way I see it...

The first idea we're introduced to is one about Stolas' depression but then when he sits down with Blitz we're introduced to the idea of Stolas' poverty.

The previous ideas are what you think that the episode might focus on until you get hit with the Octavia B-Plot. Okay! A-Plot is about depression and poverty, B-Plot is about Stolas not being able to contact Octavia... (I might be using those terms incorrectly, but you get the idea,)

But THEN you get Sinsmas introduced which is about the idea of indulging in your sins, which is shown to be important to the audience because it's expressed in dialogue, right? Wait, no, it's about Stolas's depression/poverty, okay then....

But THEN you cut to the office and we get a Millie and Moxxie bonding scene, so you think, "wait, is there going to be another DIFFERENT plotline introduced into this episode about their relationship??" AND YOU GET MORE ABOUT SINSMAS, multiple shots about the holiday and the idea of indulging in your sins!! So wait, the idea of Sinsmas IS an individual idea from the depression/poverty point? Or isn't it??

Stolas sobs on the phone, there's a very obvious depression/poverty breakdown, but then we get MORE NEW SHIT introduced because it's about Stolas' cheating. And I understand that that's meant to tie into Octavia's B-plot, but there's a subtle difference between that and THIS that adds another layer of shit on top (elaborated on later).

Which, BTW, I just wanna point out how this idea is contradictory to the Sinsmas idea since CHEATING is about INDULGING in LUST - as is established in your PREVIOUS. IMPORTANT. SEASON ONE FINALE... So WHY would you make a character shame a sin that's meant to be in the process of being celebrated which confuses the Sinsmas idea and was also the CORE of the Stolitz will-they-won't-they before now?? If it was to trigger Stolas' breakdown you already HAD the poverty story beat, this is just needless and confusing redundancy??

So then we actually get to Octavia and we get a scene about the idea of Stolas and Octavia not being able to get in contact with each other - the B-Plot - and followed by her introspective song and the discovery of Stolas' pills. And now we suddenly feel like we're back to where we were MEANT to be, with the Octavia B-Plot taking a pause to cut back to the Depression A-Plot. This builds up tension as we naturally feel the two characters drawn together.

And theeeen it cuts to the I.M.Ps and I'm banging my head against the wall because you're like, "Oh! The Millie and Moxxie relationship idea! This is going to be about them!"

But then OH MY GOD a NEW idea is introduced about Blitz wanting a FAMILY WITH STOLAS. I want to shoot someone because the cheating was a set up for Blitz to fantasise about wanting a family??? Is this meant to be a parallel to episode 1??? Am I meant to feel like Blitz has developed as a character?? In an episode that has been about every character OTHER than Blitz???

And then it's meant to be likeee like about Millie's pregnancy because she wants to kill the family instead of leaving them be, but it's also about Moxxie's relationship with her, but it's ALSO about being "demon enough" (WHATEVER THAT IS, IT'S NEVER ELABORATED ON), but it's also ALSO about Sinsmas.

Okay! Okay, back to the REAL plot except- Wait, Octavia walked in??? Wait, so this plot is now about Blitz wanting a family and he's going to bond with Octavia?? No! NO because they don't have any emotional connection and so there is no reason for this scene to exist if either way Blitz was going to know where Stolas went and Octavia was going to end up there as well anyways.

And can you tell I'm tired of writing at this point? Cus I'm losing my mind. FINALLY the A-plot and B-plot that should have been the center of the episode all along gets a fuck ton of screentime and it's beautiful and it's the peak of the episode.

And theeen it's back to Millie and you think, "Okay, so a big part of the pregnancy plot is clearly meant to be about Millie and Moxxie's relationship based on all the scenes we've gotten between them! That means that Millie and Moxxie are going to have some sort of important dialogue-" And then she WALKS OUT on him and she has her emotional moment with her sister! Which isn't a bad thing but need I remind you she isn't even in the center a FULL LENGTH episode, she's from a SHORT... WHY would you NOT integrate Sallie into a proper episode if she's going to be key to a future INCREDIBLY important plotline??

The episode ends with Blitz and Stolas and the credits roll blah blah blah...

This post is basically expands on some of the points of my post about my first impressions, because I just wanted to give a run down of the structure properly so you can understand why this episode is making me feel like I'm losing it. And I get it, if you put in the effort you can get an idea of how all the ideas were meant to tie together... But it doesn't! It's badly written! It makes me want to rip my hair out!

Ideas are established and then sit there uncomfortably without resolutions to them! Like even the shit. That was meant to be the main shit. The poverty and depression stuff? NO conclusion. Stolas says, "you don't have to refer to me as your highness" I guess?? But like, nothing to show him settling in with everyone else in the celebration to show he's like. Poor? And okay with it? By partaking in the holiday of those that are meant to be "beneath" him? No mention of his medication???

Just!! Okay. To understand the way shit in the writing could have been better, let me list some ways you could change the episode to be more coherent or cut down on redundancy if my points have so far not landed.

Establish Sallie towards the BEGINNING of the episode and her dynamic with Millie, and show how that compares to her relationship with Moxxie, and show WHY she would call Sally instead of talking with Moxxie first. If you're going to make the episode about family btw, this would be the point where Millie could bring up HER family and how much she values them or something in order to establish that as being important. Also, use this to explore what Millie and Moxxie's feelings on having a baby WOULD be, so that if there's conflict there then you have more understanding of why Millie made the decision she did.

Use the actual environment in the background of the montage to show the passage of time instead of it suddenly being Sinsmas. Have demons setting up holiday decorations, in the stores put up discount signs about a "Sinsmas sale!" This makes the story flow more naturally, as well as adds characterisation and makes Stolas' depression more real as he's shown to be so absorbed in his own world he doesn't even realise it's the holiday until Blitz brings it up.

Octavia's phone and the device she listens to music on is the same (I checked S1E2 to confirm it), which causes a sloppy writing issue. Like. If the episode is meant to show Stella is controlling and it's not Octavia's choice not to get in contact with Stolas, then you need to explain why she hasn't called him despite having access to her phone when Stella isn't around. If it were me, I would have had Stella lock it in a drawer that Octavia picks the lock on so she can listen to her music. THEN you can keep the original scene, OR (this is what I would have done) have her check her phone logs so you can see not only how many times Stolas has called but how much time has passed. Maybe this could also be used as another reason to drive her towards the closet as she hides from Stella and Andrealphus. Maybe this could be used as an interesting metaphor about her desire to leave but she doesn't know what she's going to do once she picks the lock on the door... Like how she could call her Dad now that she has her phone but she doesn't know what she'll do when she does... Something like that.

DON'T have Blitz and Via meet up if they're not going to interact. That entire scene is fucking pointless as is and I hate it. Either dedicate a PROPER amount of time and dialogue into making Blitz want to and try to connect with Via, or have them not talk at all. Cut out the whole thing about Blitz wanting a family with Stolas honestly, it's just not well explored enough.

Again with the sloppy writing, the gang did NOT need to stumble into a room of weapons to have weapons. That's pointless. They're assassins, they've been established to bring a stash of weapons with them to fights before. I can think of something much funnier where Moxxie is surprised by Loona's transformation and there's a joke made about her being a noble steed and Moxxie pulls out a sword only for Millie to be like, "Why did you bring that?" And Moxxie says something about how it's a posh weapon cus that's his thing. OR you could have some badass impromptu weapons the gang makes from the ice or they use Sinsmas decorations scattered around. IDK.

Already made my point about Stolas and the poverty idea. Show him settling in with the others during the celebration and him opening up to the idea that he's no longer rich or well respected. The "you don't have to refer to me as your highness" would work if the text bothered to show his mental state properly, instead of him just looking depressed and like he kind of hates everyone there.

Have Blitz PLEASE react to Stolas' depression. Like. Acknowledge it. And share his feelings about it. AND GIVE STOLAS HIS MEDICATION FFS he clearly has clinical depression!! Blitz is sooo head empty in this episode, PLEASE give him more internal thoughts other than :) I'm holding my head in my hands.

And I'm so tired of writing at this point I'm going to stop it there but I hope that was thorough enough to get across my points. And if not then I guess that speaks to how loopy this episode made me that I can't even articulate myself 100% because dear god.

[gunsatthaphan]

~ Monthly BL Breakdown: June 2024 ~ 

☀️ Happy July!!! 🧴

Disclaimer: ALL shows can be streamed here or here, as well as on Youtube and other platforms. For more info on where to watch what, check out this post! 

New breakdowns are coming at the end of every month - feel free to add stuff! -> previous breakdowns

What came out this month? (green = seen/currently watching)

🌟 My Love Mix-Up - June 6th (Thailand)

🌟 Love Sea - June 9th (Thailand) ✅

🌟 SunsetxVibes - June 15th (Thailand)

🌟 Blue Boys Part 2 - June 15th (South Korea)

🌟 His Man Season 3 - June 21st (South Korea)

🌟 Marahuyo Project - June 24th (Philippines)

🌟 The Rebound - June 26th (Thailand)

🌟 I Hear the Sunspot - June 26th (Japan)

🌟 Sparks Camp Season 2 (Dating Reality Show) - June 26th (Philippines)

🌟 The Trainee - June 30th (Thailand) ✅

Monthly Likes / Dislikes

❣️ - 👎🏻 -

New series & movie announcements

🎥 Islanders - Date TBA (Taiwan)

🎥 Desire (Omegaverse) - Date TBA (China)

🎥 Khemjira - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 See Your Love - Date TBA (Taiwan)

🎥 Happy Ending (starring JeffBarcode) - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Sugar Dog Life - Coming August 2024 (Japan)

🎥 Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo - Date TBA (South Korea)

🎥 Allure of the Siren - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Soulmate (starring Taec-yeon from 2PM) - Date TBA (South Korea)

🎥 Secret Love - Date TBA (Thailand)

Other news from the BL world

❗️ Bible W. and Jess J., the leads of the upcoming BL 4 Minutes, starred in a music video - short film by the Thai band Getsunova called Spaceless. The film was released on June 4th, the music video was released on June 6th.

❗️ Jeff S. and Barcode T. were revealed to star in the upcoming BL Happy Ending, along with Mike Angelo and Jorin K. A first trailer was released on June 15th. The show is produced by Jeff S. himself.

❗️ Actor Chimon Wachirawit withdrew from the upcoming GMMTV BL Perfect10 Liners due to his struggle with mental health issues. He was previously hospitalized and pulled back from various events, such as the LOL Fanfest and multiple fanmeetings. He released a statement on June 24th saying he has been suffering from depression and is currently receiving treatment. On June 27th, GMMTV issued a statement announcing a hiatus in Chimon's career and the end of the PerthChimon ship as a result. They have mutually agreed to end their work as a pair due to Chimon's condition and will continue to pursue separate career paths. Chimon will return to acting once his treatment is finished.

❗️ It was revealed that the upcoming Taiwanese BL First Note of Love will be a collaboration with the Thai production company StarHunter. The show stars Charles Tu (HIStory 4) and Michael Chang (My Tooth Your Love) as well as Jame Kasama (GenY) who plays a Thai singer. The show is set to premiere in August.

❗️ The production company Be On Cloud announced a lineup event titled "The Next Altitude", which will be held on July 9th. It will feature upcoming projects such as series and various events. Further details are unknown.

❗️ Following the legalization of same-sex marriage in Thailand, the production company StarHunter announced a reality series surrounding the marriage of actors Porsch A. and Arm S. titled "Porsch-Arm The Wedding". The show will follow the pair on their path to their wedding and is thus the first Asian LGBT+ marriage themed reality show. In light of the bill-pass, fellow actors Both N. and Newyear K. also celebrated their engagement after 10 years of being together.

Upcoming series & movies for July

👉🏻 Takara no Vidro - July 1st (Japan)

👉🏻 This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans - July 5th (Thailand)

👉🏻 The Boyfriend (Gay Dating Reality Show) - July 9th (Japan)

👉🏻 The Next Altitude (BOC lineup event) - July 9th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Century of Love - July 10th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Meet You at the Blossom - July 11th (China/Thailand/Taiwan)

👉🏻 Heavens x Candy - July 13th (Japan)

👉🏻 Sky Valley - July 20th (Philippines)

👉🏻 4 Minutes - July 26th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Battle of the Writers - July 29th (Thailand)

[likethexan]

I fuck with the Nerites/Poseidon ship not because I like old man/young man (really not my thing sorry Ganymede) but more on because I headcanon Nerites as only a bit younger than his Nereid sisters (5 years max) Since Hesiod never mentioned his age, only that he’s the youngest child of Doris and Nereus.

Nerites and Poseidon creating Anteros or Mutual Love makes Amphitrite/Poseidon/Nerites an interesting dynamic (even if its non existent in mythological text). Amphitrite obviously doesn’t want Nerites in her marriage bed (see the myth of Scylla) but that’s her brother, so of course it’s complicated.

Also, Nerites capturing the attention of not one, not two, but THREE gods (aphrodite, poseidon, helios) is such a flex even if he turns into a shellfish at the end (I like to think Poseidon does turn him back but not before laughing his ass off).

[ahli-stuff]

Rewatched that amazing scene where Dazai and Kunikida lock eyes with each other and then dash to opposite sides across the room . GOD I love them GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!! I wish there were seasons of them solving mysteries together

ARENT THEY JUST SO

[skitskatdacat63]

2023 Las Vegas Grand Prix - Qualifiying - Fernando Alonso

[lady-harrowhark]

If anyone remembers/still cares about my bizarro jaw bone spur debacle from this summer, I have an update for you! I'm fine now, this is all past tense, but probably don't read this if you don't want to hear about dental/bone stuff.

So to recap, earlier this summer I felt some irritation in my mouth and when I checked it out in the mirror, there was a tiny little off-white shard of something sticking out of my gums on the inside of my lower molars. I figured it was a little piece of food that poked me, but when I touched it, it 1) was hard and sharp, 2) would not move, and 3) hurt so bad that it about knocked the wind out of me. Even in the moment I knew this sounded dramatic and highly improbable, but I was immediately Very Sure that it was a little shard of bone.

By the next morning it was so swollen that I couldn't see if it was still there, and after four or five days I ended up calling around and found a dentist who could get me in to take a look because my usual dentist at the student health center didn't have any immediate openings. By that point I was taking Tylenol + ibuprofen around the clock as well as using Orajel numbing gel and icing it, but nothing was touching the pain. Also, the side of my face and down into my neck was starting to swell, and sleeping and eating was extremely difficult due to the pain.

The dentist I ended up seeing was very friendly and pleasant but ultimately pretty dismissive. Nothing showed up on an X-ray but he could see a spot of "hyper-irritation" where I'd had the little shard, and he said it was possible that a "bone spur" worked its way out through my gums. Usually that only happens after oral surgery or an injury, but I'd also had a dental cleaning a few weeks prior that was weirdly aggressive and left that part of my gums bleeding and sore for several days, so it was possible that was enough to dislodge something left over from when I had my wisdom teeth removed years and years ago. Or maybe it was just a little cut. He then told me to alternate the Tylenol and ibuprofen instead of taking them simultaneously and to call back in two weeks if it wasn't better or if it started getting hard to eat or sleep. I reiterated that it already was hard to eat and sleep, and asked if I was understanding him correctly that he wanted me to take LESS pain medication. He paused, and then said to call back in one week if it wasn't better.

So obviously I went out to my car and cried. I have a very skewed pain tolerance from a lifetime of chronic illness experiences and I'm a very smiley and friendly person in general, so I do acknowledge that I don't usually LOOK like I'm in pain, especially to someone who's only just met me. But for me, the fact that I even made an appointment for it is a giveaway that this is like, off the charts levels of pain. I called my dad since he's a doctor and he was able to prescribe some antibiotics for me just in case, and walked me through how to adjust the ibuprofen dose to be the equivalent of prescription strength. I'd decided that if it wasn't any better by the next day, I was going to urgent care. Thankfully it was a smidge better, and over the next maybe two or three weeks it mostly went away, although for while I could still feel sort of a divot on my gum where the bone spur had been.

ANYWAY yesterday I had my regular dentist's visit, the first time I'd been in since then. I told the hygienist about it, and she seemed kind of alarmed, especially because she could also still feel the little spot on my gum. The dentist ALSO seemed pretty shocked and could feel where it was as well.

So here's the update: I apparently have a little bit of extra bone built up around my back lower molars, which is unusual but not unheard of, and mine is very very mild in comparison to what you see when you Google "mandibular tori" - mine is really just that it's slightly rounded or mildly bowed right below my molars rather than going straight down to the bottom of my mouth as is typical, minor enough that no dentists have ever mentioned it to me. I never even realized that wasn't what everyone's were like until this spring when a massage therapist I saw for TMJ stuff mentioned that she noticed it. So in general that's not any sort of issue for me, EXCEPT that the dentist yesterday said that the gum tissue can be pretty thin where it has to stretch over the extra bone, which can also be kind of pointy or sharp.

Given that plus the fact that I hadn't had any sort of recent injury or surgery in the area like you would expect for a bone spur, she said it was more likely that I somehow scraped or cut the gum right down to the bone.

It wasn't a bone spur. That was my literal, actual jaw bone showing through my gums.

[e-adlirez]

“I’m gonna give you a chance to run, and go tell every single person who you know about what just happened today. I want you to tell Rat, I want you to tell everybody. This… this is what I’m capable of now.”

Crappy drawing I made as quickly as I could, I dunno exactly all the lore in the Content SMP but one too many @doctor4t videos has done this to me and my curiosity—

c!Lux belongs to @luxintrus and c!Blake belongs to @winsweep

[loregoddess]

so, again, has this been done before or....?