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13uswntimagines · 3 months ago

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Eras of Us- Era 3: Ugh Oh, I'm Falling in Love (Taylor Swift X Morgan!Reader)

Eras of Us master list

This is the Era where they're falling in love, learning more about each other, and how to navigate their relationships with their friends and families.

warning- Sexual content in this chapter.

Author's note: Hey everyone, i'm so sorry this took so long. theres just a lot of stuff in this chapter that i really wanted to get right. I hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think. comments are literally my favorite thing.

February 2017 'Cause you could be the one that I love I could be the one that you dream of

As it turned out, being Taylor’s girlfriend was far easier than you imagined it would be. It wasn’t all that much different than when the two of you were just friends, actually.

You two still texted continuously, now each message was dotted with a heart or a little kiss. You two still talked on the phone all of the time, though you had developed a bad habit of falling asleep on late-night calls with her.

The only thing that had really changed was that now the photos you sent her were slightly more… suggestive on purpose.

And now you actually got to kiss her, which was fun, except you had barely seen her since you two started dating.

Between the holidays and dealing with your shitty agent about yet another fucked up trade, you hadn’t had time to fly to her, and she had been tied up with her family and recording her new album to fly to you. But the two of you made due (ie falling asleep on the phone with her nearly every night).

It still sucked you wouldn’t get to see her until after January camp. At least you only had 1 more game to play in.

“Hurry up you two,” Rose called over her shoulder, idly swinging Emily’s hand next to her.

You groaned, adjusting your grip on Mal’s legs as her arms squeezed more tightly around your neck. “It’s not my fault this koala demanded a piggyback ride,”

Mal had been insanely clingy since the start of camp, draping herself all over you at every opportunity. It wasn’t something you noticed at first, but it had become so constant, that it was beginning to grate on your patience.

Especially after she interrupted you every time you tried to talk to Taylor. The only moment you had gotten alone was at 3 am, and you had been too drowsy to do more than stare at her.

“I’m not that heavy ducky,” Mal hugged, pinching your ear.

“No, but it’s been like 2 miles,” You huffed, tilting your head away from her, and picking up your pace so you were even with Rose and Emily.

Emily rolled her eyes at you. “And whose fault is that?”

You shrugged as much as you could with Mal on your back. “Cheney said they have the best mochas,”

“And it’ll make it very hard for Alex to beat you this week,” Rose snorted, gesturing towards the shiny watch on your wrist. “If you’re gonna make us take a hike to a coffee shop, you should at least be honest with why we’re taking it,”

“She should be more active in her rest time,” You said, earning another eye roll as the four of you finally made it to the cafe Cheney had mentioned when you talked to her over the holidays.

It was just a bonus that Alex would need to find 4 extra exercise miles to match you in her stupid little app. It’s what she had done to you with Kelley’s family’s stupid 10 mile Christmas morning hike after all. You had to go on a beach run to make up for it.

“Or maybe you should be less competitive,” Emily grumbled, holding the door open for you and Mal to walk through. Her gaze stayed glued out the door even after you stepped through.

You rolled your eyes. “And what fun would that be?”

You dropped Mal’s legs as you got in line next to Rose, and she landed on her feet, but she didn’t let go of your neck like you had hoped she would.

“We would be behind in the practice scrimmages against the vets too,” You added as you turned your attention to the menu above the cashier.

There weren’t any… normal drinks. They all had fancy names, so you had to read the description to figure out what the fuck it was. You sighed internally, deciding that you absolutely shouldn’t have listened to Cheney, because long complicated descriptions like delectable dark roast, mixed with Dutch hand-made chocolate ganache, and essence of citrus aurantium topped with creamy dreamy whipped cream and powdered orange blossoms: written out in small, tight together cursive was going to take you forever to decipher.

Especially with the way all the L’s and E’s kept flipping places, and how Mal kept shifting your entire body each time she moved.

You were going to have a headache by the time you actually made it through the menu.

“Ok, those guys are totally following us,”

You blinked in the direction of Emily’s voice, and away from the migraine-inducing menu. You followed her hand to where she was pointing at two men wearing aviators sitting at a stable near the back of the café.

The one facing you was older, with dark salt and pepper hair, wearing a leather jacket, while the other was younger and blonde with his back to you.

It made you roll your eyes again.

Tony and Zach had been your shadows since you and Taylor started dating. You saw them outside your apartment building in Chicago, and ran into them everywhere you went, even when you attended a Bears game against the Chiefs.

You could tell that they were trying to be discrete since you had brought up the issue with Taylor the first week you noticed them, but it was still annoying that she wouldn’t budge on her stance.

“I’ll take care of it,” You grumbled, carefully untangling yourself from Mal’s grasp, ignoring the high-pitched whine she let out at being displaced. “Just order me the closest thing to a mocha please,”

At least now you didn’t have to read the menu.

You ignored the feeling of their eyes on your back as you walked up to the table your two bodyguards were sitting at, knocking on the wood when you were close enough. “I thought I made it clear that I don’t need a babysitter,”

“I prefer the term watchman,” Tony hummed, barely even looking at you.

Zach nodded. “Watchmen is a much better term,”

You glared at the blonde man, before turning back to Tony. “I prefer that you don’t follow me around and creep out my friends,”

Tony paused, lifting a finger to shift his aviators down to the end of his nose so he could peer at you over the rim of them. “We’ll try to be more discreet,”

You shook your head. “No. You will stop following me,”

“Can’t. Bosses orders,” Tony shrugged, readjusting his aviators back over his eyes. “And frankly, the team doesn’t have enough security,”

Your glare deepened. “Because no one knows who the fuck we are,”

“Still, I shouldn’t have been able to get your room number from the front desk receptionist,” He countered. “or have Zach get into the changing room at the practice field,”

“Normal people don’t do that shit,” You grit back.

His point proved nothing.

No fan was trying to sneak into your locker room to leave notes in your cubby and no other people had interest in your room number.

Sure, the note and the peanut butter cookies Taylor had delivered to your room were cool, but two men staking out every place you went certainly was not. Not when Emily wouldn’t shut up about your mysterious friend being in the mob because now you had people following you.

She couldn’t give up on the angle, going so far that even Mal was annoyed with her.

You had been annoyed 5 weeks ago when she brought the idea up for the first time during New Year's when she spotted them after you came out of a fried chicken place in Atlanta.

Tony sighed, fixing his leather jacket.“If you're really insistent about this, you know who you need to take it up with. Otherwise, I think Ms. Sonnett, Ms. Pugh, and Ms. Lavelle have finished ordering,”

It irritated you that he always referred to your friends so formally, even if he had never met them.

“I will,” You grit out, already pulling your phone out of your pocket. “Because you two are ridiculous,”

Tony made a face, dipping his aviators to peer at you again. “And Taylor is ridiculous for caring about your safety?”

You opened and closed your mouth several times. That wasn’t fair.

Tony slid his glasses back into place as a waitress brought them 2 coffees.

Your jaw clenched and you didn’t your best not to glare at the smug way he sipped the steaming glass. You hadn’t even seen them order.

“Your friends have chosen a table,” He hummed, tilting his head to where Emily, Mal, and Rose were all staring at you with wide eyes.

“This isn’t the end of this conversation,” You muttered, grabbing one of the 3 chocolate chip cookies that had been delivered with their coffee.

“We will try to be more discreet,” Zach said, passing you a napkin.

You took a bite of your cookie. “You better,”

“We’ll do our best,” Tony chuckled, gesturing towards your friends with his chin again. “Go enjoy your overly fancy coffee,”

You made a low noise, turning on your heel and heading back over to your friends, who were overtly staring at the men now.

“You’re in the mob right?” Emily asked before you were even fully seated in the chair next to Mal.

You didn’t reply, instead breaking the cookie into 3 and passing the larger part to Rose for her and Emily to share and the other to Mal, who was already wrapping herself around you again.

“Emily stop,” The forward whined loudly in your ear as she took the cookie.

“Oh come on, just answer the question,” Emily said, her lips pulling into a teasing grin. “it’s totally obvious,”

“I’m not in the mob,” You grumbled, taking a sip of your coffee and frowning.

You liked mochas, they were your go-to order, but this one had caramel in it, and was far too sweet. You would drink it anyway though, because one of your friends had paid for it.

Rose leaned forward in her chair, resting crossed arms on the table in front of her conspiratorially. “Then why was our coffee already paid for?”

You frowned, your cup hitting the table with a low thud. “What?”

“I gave them my name and she said someone had already paid for us,” Rose said, her voice low.

Your eyebrows pulled more tightly together. “Who?”

“Someone named Athena,” Rose wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you rolled your eyes.

It had been Taylor. Of course, it was her, she had even sent the goons she had following you coffees and an extra cookie.

Of course that was the name Taylor used.

She had been making fun of her nickname since she found out that it was her contact name in her phone, and you blushed through your explanation that she was a goddess and the smartest person you knew.

“See, totally a mob boss name,” Emily said accusingly, gesturing wildly with her hands. “who else would call themselves Athena,”

You were afraid that if you rolled your eyes again they would fall out of your head, so you refrained.

No matter how good it would have felt.

You pulled away from Mal and wrestled your phone out of your pocket. You flipped to your messages, ignoring the one aptly named Athena for now, opening the thread you shared with Alex to get it to stop buzzing.

Alexandria🐬: Did you have to walk to a coffee shop across the city? Haven’t you ever heard of an Uber?

MiniMorgs: Wanted to get some fresh air, and Cheney recommended it

Alexandria🐬: More like you wanted to win this week’s challenge. Was it worth the walk?

MiniMorgs: I didn’t have to read the overly complicated menu, so yes. #dyslexic problems

Alexandria🐬: LoL. Maybe we should get you yellow-tinted glasses to help with that

MiniMorgs: Whatever. Good luck catching up on miles

Alexandria🐬:🖕🏻

Another coffee cup landed in front of you with a clink, and you blinked up from your phone at the waitress.

You frowned up at her. “Ugh, thanks?”

You hadn’t ordered another coffee.

“The person who paid for your order also asked us to make an extra mocha, no caramel, no whipped cream, and no sweetening syrup,” The young girl explained quickly, her hands fidgeting in front of her. “it also comes with a heart and a little winky face,”

“Oh, thanks,” You sent her a genuine smile, the dimple on your left cheek poking out just a bit.

She blushed.

“No problem,” she said, turning away from you and your friends very quickly before practically running back to the counter.

You didn’t watch her as she left, instead sipping your new coffee and sighing in content.

It was exactly what you wanted. The perfect cup of coffee if you did say so yourself.

You glanced back down at your phone, flipping through your messages to the one labeled Athena👸🏼

Thanks for the coffee. It’s much better than the sugary shit Emily ordered.

“Do you have to flirt with every woman you see?” Mal scoffed, placing more of her weight on you as she draped her arms over your shoulders.

You grunted, slipping your phone in your pocket and adjusting in your seat so she didn’t knock you over. “I wasn’t flirting, I was just being nice,”

You practically felt her roll her eyes as Emily snorted across from you.

“What? I was!” You bit out, your voice dripping in incredulity.

“You used the smile you use when you’re trying to get into someone’s pants,” Mal hummed, her lips caressing the shell of your ear as her hand dipped its way under the hem of your Alexia Putellas Barça jersey. “I would know,”

You jerked away from her, nearly spilling your coffee. Your chair squeaked as you pushed away, creating space between the two of you.

You didn’t want her touching you.

Not like you had in the past.

There was a time when you craved her touch. Where you twisted yourself into knots to be worthy of her affection.

You allowed yourself to get closer to her than you had to anyone else, and in the end she had decided that you still weren’t good enough.

She decided that you would never be good enough for her. Not like Dansby was. But even after that you had pined after every little scrap of care she sent you, and you allowed yourself to believe that it was all you deserved.

That it was real.

Even in your short time with Taylor, you knew that real was something very different. She didn’t make you feel like you were always making up for something. Like you had to earn her care.

She made you feel worthy and had butterflies flapping in your chest. She made you feel seen, even before you were together, and you wouldn’t do anything to put that in jeopardy.

“Whoa, easy there,” Emily chuckled. “Didn't think you were so sensitive to the mention of your history,”

You shifted uncomfortably, fixing the edge of your jersey.

“Just tickled me,” You muttered, taking another sip of your coffee as Mal didn’t even hesitate to wrapped herself around you again.

You ignored the knowing look Rose sent you, and cleared your throat. “We should probably head back though. Think you can walk on your own this time?”

You gently elbowed Mal, sending Emily a cheeky grin when she wiggled her eyebrows.

Mal sighed heavily, her lips returning to near your ear. “I don’t think so. I think I still need a piggyback,”

You huffed at her pouted words, shoving your extra coffee cup into her hands as you stood. “You have to carry the cups though,”

“Deal!” She cheered, already trying to climb on your back.

You didn’t have the heart (or the stomach) to tell her that you didn’t want to carry her back. You couldn’t when it made her light up so much.

“You’re such a pushover,” Rose muttered as she held the café door open for you.

You shrugged as much as you could with Mal on your back.

You were a people pleaser to your core, and you couldn’t help that. Mal was your friend and you liked to make her happy.

Taylor would understand.

*****

You were sweating your ass off by the time you made it back to the team hotel, and your legs felt like you had just played 90 minutes.

You supposed walking 4 miles with a fully grown forward on your back would do that to you, and the detours Emily kept taking because of the “Mob Guys” following you made the journey more like 6. Dawn was not going to be pleased, and you felt like you needed a recovery day to recover from your recovery day.

You dropped Mal’s legs as you stepped into the welcome AC of the lobby, ignoring her yelp at the move.

“I’m done being your pack Mule,” You muttered, breathing hard. “Use your own damn legs,”

“Not a mule. A graceful stallion,” Mal hummed, leaning in and placing a kiss on your cheek before she skipped off. “Thanks for the ride,”

She missed your eye roll. But Kelley didn’t. “Coming on a bit strong, isn't she?”

You blinked at Kelley, pulling your sunglasses up to rest in your wavy curls, taking in the way she was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Don’t they always?”

“You didn't have a friends-with-benefits relationship with most of the people who hit on you,” Kelley shrugged.

You made a sound low in your throat, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m not interested in continuing that,”

You didn’t know she knew about that.

“I know,” Kelley nodded, her hand landing warm and grounding on your shoulder. “You’re interested in burrito girl,”

You hummed.

You were more than just interested in Taylor, and Kelley knew that. She had been getting regular updates after she talked you off the ledge the morning after, and it was kinda nice to get to share with someone.

Kelley shifted again, and you scratched harder at the back of your neck as a very uncomfortable silence settled over you.

“I didn’t bring you coffee,” You said, finally looking at her.

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together. She was spinning the ring on her forefinger more rapidly than you had ever seen, and shifting like she was… nervous.

“I know,” She said, her eyes flicking up to meet your blue before rapidly looking away. “Can we chat though?”

You frowned. “What’s up?”

Kelley bit her lip and led you over to an isolated meeting room, closing the door behind you.

She took a steadying breath like she was stealing herself as she turned to look at you. “I’m going to ask your sister to marry me,”

You stared at her, your mouth dropping open at her words.

She was going to ask your sister to marry her.

Her and Alex were going to get married.

But weren’t they practically married already? They had been together since you were 10. They lived together, had 2 dogs and were actively looking for a team to transfer to together.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, but you were. So you did what you always did when you were caught off guard.

You painted a playful smirk on your face, wiggling your eyebrows. “Alex right? Because I don’t think Jen or Jerry will react well,”

Kelley sighed. “I’m being serious. We’ve been together for almost 7 years. I love her,”

You raised an eyebrow at her, your smirk melting a little. “Ok, and?”

She spun her ring a little faster. “I’m not asking your permission, but-“

“You want my blessing or some shit?” You cut her off, your eyebrows furrowing impossibly deeper. “Jesus Kell, her and I haven’t had a proper conversation since I was like 12. My opinion doesn’t matter,”

You actively avoided conversations with your sister. She barely knew anything about the adult version of yourself.

There was no way she could care what you thought about her marrying Kelley.

Kelley shook her head, closing the distance between you and catching your hand. “I think your opinion is one of the only ones she cares about,”

Her voice went very soft, and you swallowed hard. You weren’t at a place to consider what she meant. You couldn't deal with all of the baggage that came with the implications.

Yes, you were fairly content to interact with her through the stupid app the two of you competed on, but that was nothing deeper than just that. A competition.

It didn’t mean anything. Not like Kelley was assuming it meant.

You shook your head, swallowing down your feelings and locking them into a little box in the center of your chest.

“She might be my sister, but I’ll kick her ass if she hurts you. Or says no, even though she’s not going to say no. She loves you. I guess I’ll kick your ass too if you hurt her so don’t,” You said softly, drawing up the courage to meet Kelley’s eyes again.

A brilliant smile broke across her face, and her eyes lit up like the two of you had just won the World Cup. “I promise I won’t kid,”

“Good,” You ran a hand through your hair, sucking in a long breath through your nose. “Is there anything else?”

“Don’t you want to know how I’m going to do it?” Kelley asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

Your shoulders lifted and fell.

Maybe a part of you cared about whatever romantic thing Kelley had planned for her, but the larger part just… wasn’t interested. It wasn’t like you were involved in Alex’s life. You didn’t get to see the ins and outs of her relationship with Kelley, and that was your own choice. If you got too close, you knew you would get hurt.

You had before anyway.

“As long as it’s not during or directly after sex, I think it’ll be fine,” You huffed out, covering your wavering curiosity.

Kelley rolled her eyes. “I’m going to do it when we go to New York. I have a reservation for the top of the Empire State Building,”

“That’ll be pretty,” You hummed, your voice going soft.

You knew how much your older sister loved city lights. It was nearly as much as she loved to look at the stars.

When the two of you were young, you would sit on the roof outside of her window for hours staring at the sky, naming the constellations. It was what got you so into Greek mythology after all. You wondered if she still remembered all of the stories.

“She loves the lights,” Kelley agreed, watching you carefully. “We’re going to have dinner after. Jen and Jerrie will be there,”

You nodded. “I’ll be there too,”

“Excellent,” Kelley’s smile just got wider.

“Yeah,” You said, trailing off and looking towards the door. “I told Alyssa I’d watch film with her before the game tomorrow, so are we done?”

Kelley chuckled, not at all surprised that you wanted to escape this conversation. “Wouldn’t want to keep the head of the Department of Defense waiting,”

You always pulled away when your family was mentioned, and that habit was only magnified when emotions were also involved.

“Nope,” You muttered, practically running towards the door.

She wished things were different.

Alex was making the steps to bridge the gap in your relationship, and for the first time in a long time, you seemed willing to meet her halfway. Neither of them were sure exactly what had caused the rift, or why you had always been so… reluctant to let her fix it. Or to talk about it in general.

She hoped that the little steps would actually lead to something this time. She hoped that you would let your walls down. She hoped that you would actually let yourself be happy.

*****

Rain pounded down around you as you tracked the ball across midfield.

Games like this were your favorite.

The USWNT was up by 4 and there was only 30 seconds of stoppage time left. You had a goal and 2 assists and you had played incredibly well. It was 75 degrees so the rain was like the mist from a shower, warm and comfortable.

It let you take your mind off of the stupid phone call that had come just before you loaded up the bus to head to the stadium. It drowned out Roary Dame’s voice explaining that you were a great play, just not what they needed.

Explaining that he had put your name in the trading block for the highest draft pick they could get. So they could finally have their star striker because you were the wrong Morgan for that.

This game made you feel… good. It made you feel powerful.

You smiled at Sam as she came to a stop beside you.

Alex and Mal were getting ready to take a time-wasting corner to end the game, and you and Sam were just there in case Jamaica got a counter opportunity.

“Emily says you’re in the mob now,” She said conversationally. “And that you have two huge dudes following you around,”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mob,”

“But you do have 2 dudes following you,” She asked, tilting her head to the mouth of the tunnel where Zach and Tony were huddled under an umbrella.

They were right, it was kinda scary how far they could get without any real security clearance. They shouldn’t have been able to get into the stadium, much less on the field, but here they were.

“I have a very overprotective friend,” You muttered as the ref blew the signature three whistles to signal the end of the game. You paused before you ran off.

Taylor wasn’t your friend, she was something much much more. You didn’t feel right calling her a friend.

You turned back to Sam, scratching the wet hairs off the back of your neck. “Well, a very protective more than a friend,”

A smile broke across her features, and you couldn’t help but match it. “Don’t mention that to anyone though,” You added, suddenly nervous that she would tell the team, and then the rumor mill would start.

You weren’t ready to answer questions about Taylor yet. Or to listen to your teammates tease you. You also didn’t want to share her yet.

Sam winked at you. “Your secret is safe with me,”

“Thanks,” You said, heading towards the tunnel, pausing at a young girl waving a soaked-through Morgan sign a few feet away from the tunnel.

You could see a big 13 painted on the sign, so you knew it wasn’t meant for you, but still it was your name too.

“Hey, I like your sign,” You hummed, flashing the girl a million-dollar smile, ignoring the phones pointed in your direction. “Even if it has the wrong number on it,”

The girl blushed deeply. “I like you too. I just wasn’t sure what number you would be wearing,”

It was a good excuse, you thought. Or it would have been over a year ago before you made the switch to number 12.

You hated when they pretended to give a shit about you just because you were the one standing in front of them. You knew the only Morgan they really cared about was your sister, and you wished they would just own it.

“Well thank ya,” You winked, ignoring her little lie. “I know it’s just because she’s a striker. Everyone loves a good goal scorer,”

The red in the girl's cheeks got even more pronounced, and your grin turned slightly wolfish. She didn’t hear the bitter note in your voice.

Everyone wanted the star striker, something you would never be.

“Do you have something you want me to sign?”

The girl shook her head, looking at her friend who also shook her head. The girl looked back at you, biting her lip.

“Can I get your jersey?” She asked hesitantly, and your smirk only got wider.

“I think I can do one better,” You said, turning back towards the field. Your eyes roved over the players until you found the one you were looking for.

“Hey Al,” You called out, cupping your hands over your face to amplify the sound.

Her head snapped in your direction, and you waved her over. You tried not to let it bother you that the girl's squeals got so much louder as she jogged over, a questioning smile on her face.

“What’s up?” She asked as soon as she was close enough, and you could hear the slight surprise in her voice. It was one of the first times you had actually spoken to her since last camp.

You tilted your head towards the fans beside you. “You’ve got a fan and you owe me because I beat you 5 weeks in a row,”

“And?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“I’m cashing in,” You said, again tilting your head towards the fans. “She would like your jersey,”

Alex never took her eyes off of you as she stripped off her soaked-through jersey, and passed it to the girl. It was like she was trying to figure out what you were thinking. But she had lost the ability to read your mind years ago.

“Thanks,” You said, flashing her a grin and turning back towards the girl. “Now you’ve got the jersey you actually want,”

Alex’s lips pulled downward at the sarcasm in your tone, hidden by false cheeriness. It was the same tone you used when something was annoying you, but you didn’t know how (or have the courage) to vocalize it.

“Oh my god, thank you!” The girl cheered, looking at Alex instead of at you.

“Both of you,” She added quickly when Alex raised an eyebrow at her.

You waved her off, throwing a “No worries,” over your shoulder as you headed towards the tunnel to get out of the rain.

Alex waved at the girls too, sending them a smile before jogging off after you. There was something so… off about that interaction, and she wasn’t willing to let it go anymore.

Her and Kelley had discussed it, and while she understood the defender's advice to not push you. To let you come to her, she was tired of waiting.

The texting was nice, but it didn’t carry over to your real-life interactions and that was… frustrating. It wasn’t getting her anywhere.

She caught your arm as you rounded the corner to the locker room, spinning you on the spot and stepping into your space so you were pinned against the cold concrete wall of the tunnel, unable to run away this time.

“What the fuck was that all about?” She asked, keeping her voice level, even though the two of you were nose to nose.

Your eyes flashed up to meet hers, identical blue boring into yours. It made you feel like she could see into your soul. Like you were naked in front of her. You so badly wanted to look away but you couldn’t.

“She had a Morgan sign with a huge 13 on it, so I went to say hello,” You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, but Alex saw through it. “And they asked for a jersey, but I knew it wasn’t mine they wanted,”

There was something in your voice, in your posture that she couldn’t place.

“But they asked you for it?” She pressed, and your eyes flicked away from her as you gave her a barely perceptible nod.

“It would have been a consolation prize. They wanted yours,” You said, twisting your arm free and finally squeezing out from where you were trapped. “Everyone always wants yours,”

You muttered the last part under your breath as you tried to make your way down the hallway, but Alex heard you anyway.

She again caught your arm before you could walk away, again spinning you around to face her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing Alex,” You grumbled, shaking your head and again breaking her hold on you. “Just drop it,”

“No. I will not drop it,” She bit back, not letting you walk away from her. “I’ve been dropping it since you were 10 and look where it’s gotten us. I can’t fix something if I don’t understand what’s wrong,”

It was as if she let you leave. If she let you go before she understood you would be gone for good. You would lose the progress you had made.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Fix it?”

What did Alex mean that she wanted to fix it? She didn’t have a Time Machine.

“Yes. Fix it,” She said, fighting to keep her volume low and her tone even. You didn’t respond well to exasperation. “We were so close and now it’s like we can’t even stand each other. I don’t want us to be this tense for the rest of our lives,”

You stared at her like she had 3 heads. There was nothing that she could do. No magic wand she could wave to change it.

The world preferred her over you, and they probably always would. You had learned from the time you were small that you weren’t worth as much as Alex was. You were invisible when she was there. You accepted it. The only person who didn’t make you feel that way was Taylor.

You shook your head. “There is nothing to fix Alex. You can’t do anything. Now let me go,”

Her face fell, and something broke in her eyes. It made your heart hurt, but it was the truth.

You twisted your arm out of her grasp and turned on your heel heading into the locker room. Alex stared after you, something you said gnawing in her brain.

Everyone always wants yours

It was nearly as bad as the “Now that everyone is watching you care. Now when it’s convenient” you gave her on the practice field in November.

She wasn’t sure what had happened between the two of you, or why you were so… frustratingly stubborn about allowing her to build a bridge over the mile-wide gap between you.

Your attitude shifting was also giving her whiplash. You seemed so… open over text. So willing to interact. She didn’t know how to navigate it all, and it seemed that you weren’t at all willing to help her.

“You good?”

Alex jumped at Kelley’s voice in her ear and gentle hands on her shoulders.

“No,” she shook her head, relaxing back into the defender's grasp.

Kelley hummed, and placed a kiss just below her ear, soothing her. “What happened?”

“Y/n called me over to give a girl my jersey, and then told her that she had the one she actually wanted,” Alex explained, frustration evident in her voice. “and when I asked, she told me that everyone always wants mine,”

“Al, we talked about this,” Kelley sighed, as your sister pulled away from her.

“I know,” Alex grumbled running a frustrated hand through her soaked hair.

They had many conversations about it. They both agreed that the best move was to take it slow. To let you dictate the pace, but neither of them expected you to be so… passive-aggressive.

Not when you let people push you too far because you didn’t know how to set limits, or you just pretended like they didn’t exist.

She didn’t know how to act when you went out of your way to interact with her and then tried to run away.

“But we never accounted for this,” She gestured wildly towards the locker room door. “She called me over,”

“And then you chased after her,” Kelley countered. “Because she told you a snippet of what’s bothering her that is supposed to make sense, but it doesn’t because you don’t have context. And you need to understand. I know,”

“She said I can’t fix it, Kell,” Alex’s voice finally broke, and Kelley was quick to pull the striker into her chest as her shoulders shook. “What am I supposed to do?”

Kelley closed her eyes, resting her cheek on the top of Alex’s head, holding her tightly.

She could see it from your side.

Alex had spent years unsure of how to bridge the ever-widening gap between you. You had spent years being compared to her, being crucified by the media for not being her, so it made sense for you to be wary. For you to try and protect yourself. What didn’t make sense was the hot and cold way you were going about it.

“I’ll talk to her,” Kelley said, holding your sister together as she crumbled. “But we need to take this at her pace. And that means one step at a time,”

*****

Slipping out of the locker room undetected was far easier than you expected it to be, but then again you had retreated to the showers long before most of the team was even off of the field. You hadn’t been planning to escape, but when the text came through on your phone, it was a no-brainer.

You smiled widely as you made the final turn down the tunnel, revealing Taylor leaning up against the large Visitors sign texting. “Fancy meeting you here, I thought you had album stuff,”

“Heard you didn’t like my henchmen,” She smirked, pushing herself off the wall and meeting you halfway. “So I thought I’d come to check on you myself,”

You nearly fell with the force of the hug, burying your face in her neck and squeezing her tightly to you. “I don’t like the henchmen. I don’t need babysitters,”

She hummed, leaning back just enough to look you in the eyes and brushing your wet curls out of your eyes. “You don’t need babysitters, but you do need protection. Let me be a little overprotective of you,”

You could feel her breath on your lips, and you couldn’t help but lean in and connect your mouths. Your hands slipped into the back pocket of her jeans and you squeezed lightly.

It was slightly scary how addicted to her you were. How you craved her touch.

She made a low sound in the back of her throat. One of her hands hooked into the hem of your sweats, and the other wove into the short curls at the back of your neck, pulling you tighter to her.

You stumbled forward molding yourself to her, as the kiss changed. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, running against yours, and you could feel her desire.

It didn’t surprise you. You knew what she wanted. What she expected. It was the same thing that every girl expected from you, so you just let it happen.

You let her pull you into the closet (unsure of how it appeared out of thin air, or where her shirt had suddenly disappeared to), pushing her against the only wall not covered in athletic equipment, and pinning her there with your hips.

Your lips dragged across her neck, and you longed to pull the velvety skin into your mouth. To place a mark, a claim out in the open where everyone could see. But you didn’t.

You trailed down to her collarbone, skimming your teeth along it as your hand slid into her pants, past her underwear, and through her warm wetness.

You couldn’t help the smirk that graced your features. “Is this all for me?”

“You’re hot when you play,” She keened as you teased at her entrance, gathering her slick on your middle finger. “And even hotter when you’re drenched and you kept pulling your shirt off to wipe the rain out of your eyes,”

You hummed, tracing her lower lips and brushing your middle finger across her clit. Her hips jolted, knocking into your thigh and it reminded you of how players always fought you for ball possession.

How they would press back into you while you tried to tap it through their legs. How they always bucked back to keep you from picking their pocket.

Taylor’s head hit the wall, and you worked your lips back up her neck, lingering on the underside of her jaw. “Please y/n,”

You hummed, dragging your teeth along her chin, and slipping your finger inside. She was warm and tight, squeezing your fingers as you dragged them against her walls.

Her hand tightened in the short curls at the base of your neck, while the other clawed at the bare skin of your shoulders.

She tasted like sweat and rain, and something just so Taylor.

It was like the sun on your face during the perfect practice, using your arm to wipe the sweat off your upper lip after you sank a ball past one of the keepers. It was like your teammates pulling you into tight hugs, running their fingers through your hair after you scored on a scorching summer day, their hands slipping through yours as they headed back to their starting positions.

She shuddered against you as you curled your fingers, finding the spongy patch inside of her, and you carefully ran your teeth across the special spot right below her ear.

It made you feel… powerful to have her so on edge already. Nearly as powerful as when you were 5 goals up on a team, or when a player couldn’t make it past you in midfield.

“Y/n,”

It was like playing with Mal, and how you knew where she was going to be before she moved, so you could pull the opposing players and set her up for a goal.

Except it was better. It was what you imagined scoring in the World Cup would feel like. Or assisting in a goal.

“Y/n,” Taylor panted, using the hand in your hair to tug you away from her neck.

“What baby?” you asked, glassy eyes blinking blearily up at her as you again curled your fingers.

Her head fell back and hit the wall with a thump. “Oh my god,” She moaned low in her throat, fighting to get out whatever she was saying. She swallowed hard, her hands keeping you from continuing your ministrations. “The door,”

As if on cue, three loud rasps sounded from the door just to your left. “I know you’re in there Y/n. We need to talk. Now,”

Your head fell forward and landed heavily on Taylor’s shoulder as you let out a groan at Kelley’s voice. “One second,”

Why did she always have to pick the wrong moment?

You pulled back, meeting Taylor’s eyes. “Just stay here,”

She nodded, sucking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from her, and ran your hand through your hair, trying to straighten your ever-messy curls. Your other hand fixed your rumpled shirt, and she frowned. She could have sworn you took yours off when you devested her of hers.

You opened the door just a crack, pushing your head out and glaring at Kelley. “What? I’m busy,”

Her eyebrows were pulled tightly together, a frown firmly set in her features. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You felt Taylor’s hand on the top of your back, warm and heavy, comforting in a way you weren’t sure you would ever really deserve.

“A lot of things,” You grumbled, shifting so Kelley couldn’t get a good look inside the closet. “I’ll need more information to give you a more defined answer,”

Her eyes narrowed. “You told Alex that she couldn’t fix it between you,”

“She can’t,” You shrugged. “Are we done?”

“No,” Kelley bit back, her hand finding the door to prevent you from slamming it closed. “Not until you talk to your sister and fix this shit,”

You were already shaking your head. “Talking is not something that Alex and I do,”

Kelley snorted. “But you’ll text,”

You shrank a little at her tone.

The texting was different. It was safer, more controlled. She wasn’t close enough to hurt you. You needed that distance.

You felt a hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles at the point that always grew so tense when you were stressed.

You let out a breath. “That’s different. We only text when one of us is winning,”

“Is it?” Kelley pressed, unwilling to let it go. “Because from the outside, it looks like you share more than just your exercise routine,”

The hand grew more insistent, and you closed your eyes. “I don’t want to argue with you,”

You could understand why Kelley was upset. She was protective over the people she loved, and while you knew she cared for you, it was nothing compared to how much she loved your sister. She would always choose Alex over you.

And that was ok. It would be weird if it wasn’t that way.

“No, you just want to get back to your quick fuck,”

Kelley's mouth twisted around the words, and it felt like a knife slipping into your chest.

You flushed red, and a hand caught the back of your collar as you jerked forward. “Don’t call her that,”

You knew what your reputation was, but you never expected Kelley to try and use it against you. Taylor was far more than a quick fuck. You cared about her more than you cared about nearly anyone.

his was why you hadn’t told Kelley yet.

Kelley took a step back, sucking in a calming breath through her nose. “Look, all I’m saying is that you need to cut Alex some slack. It’s not fair for her with your hot and cold routine. You at least have to meet her halfway,”

“I’m trying,” You sighed, running a hand through your wild curls. “What else do you want from me when my own team is fucking trading me because I’ll never be the striker that she is,”

Kelley frowned. “What?”

“Those kids said they didn’t know my number because it was new. I changed it over a year ago. They didn’t have anything for me to sign, because they didn’t want my signature. They wanted Alex. Everyone always wants Alex, and that’s not something she can fix,” You explained, your voice going soft and… honest. “I wasn’t being cruel. I was being honest,”

“Oh,” Kelley’s frown deepened, as your comment to Alex suddenly made sense.

The fans had lied to you when you were already hurt from the trade. They made you feel more unwanted.

“Yeah oh,” You said, running another hand through your hair. “We text when one of us is winning. That’s our relationship, so just leave it. Is there anything else?”

Kelley shook her head and cleared her throat. “Bus leaves in 30,”

You painted a smirk across your features.

“Cool, I’ll see you in 29 then,” You said, as you slammed the door, and turned to lean against it. You slid down until you were seated, drawing your knees to your chest and letting your head fall against it with a low thump. “Fuck me,”

Why did Kelley always have to make things difficult?

Sure she was kinda right, but why did she have to remind you of that and get you to admit why you were upset? It was so infuriating that she wouldn’t let you keep her at arm's length.

“I would but I don’t think that’ll help,” Taylor chuckled, settling down beside you, resting a hand on your knee.

You groaned, blinking at her. You had nearly forgotten she was there. And that she was shirtless…“You’d be surprised. There’s something very… freeing about losing yourself in someone else,”

There was something freeing in having all of a woman’s attention. Of you just being enough for them even if it was only for a moment. Of having something Alex never had, and of being in the only situation where you couldn’t be compared to her (though a few girls had mused about it afterward, it’s why you started skipping the after-cuddling).

Taylor made a low noise, shaking her head. “I think talking will help you more in the long run,”

You shrugged. You didn’t want to argue with her.

“I’m sorry Kelley interrupted before you could…you know…” You blushed deeply, rubbing harder at the back of your neck. You couldn’t say the word orgasm.

Taylor frowned, her thumb pausing on the inside of your knee. “Y/n,”

You didn’t stop though. You didn’t let her ask you the hard question.

“I’m surprised the goon squad didn’t stop them, especially since your goons are here too,” You said, scratching your neck, and tugging off your sweatshirt by the hood. “Here,”

You passed her the item, watching with rapt attention as she pulled it on, and her abs flexed.

“Jason is getting the car, and Tony is at the end of the hall,” She hummed, doing the button on her pants once your hoodie was on. “I don’t really like having an audience,”

You wiggled your eyebrows, painting a charming smile back on your face, even though it took too much effort. “And you assumed I’d jump you?”

It was slightly alarming how easily you locked your emotions away. How you could pretend like there wasn’t something bothering you when it had been so obvious just seconds before?

It set off red flags in her brain because a talent like that wasn’t inherent. It was learned.

“No,” She shook her head, deciding not to comment on how easily you flipped that switch. “I just knew how much I missed you,”

Your mask fell slightly. “I missed you too,”

You meant it. Being away from Taylor was harder than your pride would let you admit.

You had never been so… taken with someone. So addicted to them. But she made you feel seen and safe. It made you want to spend every second with her, wrapped around her.

“Can I take you to dinner?” She asked, squeezing your knee.

You shrugged. “I have to go back to the team hotel first to do cool down and check-in,”

“I can pick you up afterward,” Taylor suggested.

“That sounds agreeable,” You nodded, your lips twisting into a devilish smirk. “But what are we going to do in the,” You looked at the time on your phone. “25 minutes we have before the bus leaves?”

Taylor matched your smirk, catching the front of your shirt and pulling you closer. “I can think of a few things,”

OoOoOoO

March 2017

I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche?

You didn’t particularly enjoy fancy restaurants. You didn’t particularly like most restaurants to begin with, but ones with a dress code always made you uncomfortable. Their menus always had a small font, and the white tablecloths never stayed white.

The stuffy atmosphere usually lent itself to stuffy conversations, and it reminded you too much of business lunches or dinners with your parents to ever really enjoy yourself.

You had learned over the years that your opinion didn’t really matter. That everything wasn’t about you. So you were fairly adept at painting a charming smile on and acting normal.

It has worked for most of the night with your sisters and Kelley anyway.

It was easy when Jen and Jerri were gushing over the new diamond ring on Alex’s finger. When they kept asking for every little detail of how Kelley proposed on top of the Empire State Building.

And you played along, never speaking directly to Alex, but not being weird enough that anyone would notice. You wouldn’t ruin this for her, or for Kelley.

“You alright over there space cadet?” Jerri asked, nudging your shoulder and pulling your brain from where you were trying to decipher the tiny writing on the menu.

You blinked up at the four women, realizing that they (and the waiter) were staring expectantly at you. “What?”

“Kell asked if you were ready to order,” Jen supplied patiently.

You were just grateful that no one giggled, but you blushed anyway.

You tried to cover it by snapping your menu closed. “Oh, yeah,”

Kelley blinked at you, gesturing towards the waitress. “What are you going to order?”

You felt the heat in your cheeks travel up to your ears, but still, you tried to play it off. “Oh, you guys can go first,”

Jerri shook her head, placing her hand gently on your arm. “We already have sweetheart,”

You frowned, squinting down at your closed menu. You had missed them ordering, and now you didn’t have time to try and decipher the hieroglyphic font the restaurant had chosen. Not that you would have been able to.

The letters tended to go more haywire when you were stressed, and you would be damned before you asked someone to help you. Your jaw worked as you thought of what to say. What could you say?

“You love chicken parm, and I heard it’s good here,” Alex said casually like it was normal to suggest food items after everyone else had already ordered. “or they have a very good salmon in pink sauce if you’re feeling something lighter,”

Your eyes darted to her for the first time since you had sat down at the stable, and your jaw hung open.

Alex intervening so seamlessly when you were struggling wasn’t something that had happened since she moved to Berkeley (you couldn’t help how you sneered the word in your head).

Jerri nudged you again, and you cleared your throat, your eyes still glued to Alex.

“The salmon sounds good actually,” You mumbled, finally getting your voice to work.

The waitress hummed, and you heard her little ticket book close. “I’ll go put that in,”

You were sure that Kelley or Jen responded to the girl, but you didn’t look away from Alex.

It was just so…not Alex of her. For her to have options ready and waiting meant that she had to have thought that you might have trouble. She had to have consciously decided to look for options that you would like too, and to have more than one so you actually got to choose.

It meant that she cared.

You swallowed very hard. That thought was too overwhelming.

Now, at the dinner, after she just got engaged was not the time to contemplate if Alex even had the capability to care about you. It would again make the evening about you when it most certainly was not.

You could feel the eyes of Kelley and your sisters, despite the way they restarted their conversation. It was like they were watching a car crash or a roller coaster derail.

You felt like a spectacle. Like you were drawing attention when you absolutely should not be. It had alarm bells ringing in your ears.

What would your parents say when they heard you had ruined your sister’s engagement dinner?

It was like the walls were closing in, as the conversation at the table blended with the noise from the restaurant around you. It was suffocating.

You didn’t think before you pushed yourself to your feet, nearly knocking over the chair behind you.

“I’m gonna take a bathroom break,” You said, turning on your heel without waiting for a response, not that you would have registered it through the pounding in your ears.

You needed to get away.

To leave.

To put space between you and this version of Alex that somehow gave a fuck about you.

You bypassed the hallway that led to the restroom, knowing that someone would eventually find you there. You turned right, brushing past the hostess and out the glass doors into the city.

The chilly air hit you like a gasping breath after being underwater for too long. Like water after a practice in Houston in July.

You paused just outside the crystal doors, filling your lungs like you had been drowning.

You knew you couldn’t stand there forever, blocking the entrance to Osteria Carlina, so you headed left, in the direction of your favorite hole-in-the-wall pizza place between Canal and Broadway.

You didn't plan to eat there, but you thought that maybe the walk would help you clear your head, and you could be back in time to eat your overpriced salmon. Something about the smell of fresh sauce and baked cheese always made your thoughts clearer.

It reminded you of when you were tiny and Alex would take you for pizza after your u6 games. It reminded you of riding on her shoulders on top of the world, even if none of the goals actually mattered.

Even if you lost.

You just needed a minute to not think, so you could go back and pretend like everything was fine. Like you didn’t feel entirely out of place with your sisters and Kelley. And you knew that the sounds of the city and the familiar comfort would do that.

You could already feel your airway opening, but you reached up and undid the top two buttons of your shirt anyway as though it would help. It was all in your head anyway.

It was always all in your head.

You ran a hand through your hair, your nose scrunching involuntarily at the sticky gel you had used to keep your curls in place. You had forgotten your normal wax in Chicago, and the CVS near your hotel wanted 15$ for it.

You wanted to look nice for Alex and Kelley, but 15$ wax was not in your budget. Still, you couldn’t not do anything with your hair. Wild curls would draw attention to you, and you couldn’t do that.

You couldn’t make this night about you and ruin it for them.

God, you probably already had.

“If you’re going to ditch us can you please slow down? It’s the least you could do,”

Your heart stopped at Alex’s voice, and your feet paused before you consciously decided to listen. You had to swallow down a groan.

Of course, she had come after you.

It was such an Alex thing to do.

You ran another hand through your hair and turned to face her. “What are you doing?”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she finally caught up with you. “I’m making sure you’re okay,”

She said it like it was obvious. Like it was normal. Like she wasn’t sure why you would ask.

“I’m fine,” You mumbled, your hand dragging through your curls to the back of your neck. “Go back to dinner and I’ll rejoin you in a bit,”

Her eyebrow arched. “I think running out of the restaurant constitutes just about anything other than fine,”

You couldn’t help how your nose scrunched.

This was the part of your relationship that you had forgotten about. The one that had been masked by annoying persistence since she moved out for college.

The one where she actually cared enough to force you to admit when something was wrong.

She was pushing you, but it didn’t feel like it was for her benefit. It was for you.

Your hand fell. “I just needed some air,” Your voice came out horse, strained.

Alex hummed, stepping closer to you. “You got overwhelmed.”

It was a statement, not a question, and it struck you how well she knew you, even though the two of you hadn’t had a real conversation in nearly a decade.

You stared at her, trying to understand her game. Trying to figure out why she was pretending to care. Trying to dissect how this would benefit her and her perfect image.

“What do you want from me?” You were thrown off by how small you sounded. How young and… terrified the words that left your lips were.

Alex caught your arm pulling you into her, closing the little space left between you. “I want you to talk to me,”

“No,” You instantly pulled away from her, tangling your fingers in your messy curls yet again. “I will not be a distraction,”

“What?” Her eyebrows pulled more tightly together.

Your fingers caught in a curl at the back of your head, the one that always seemed to tangle no matter what you did. You harshly tugged at it, the little pinpricks of pain helping you stay grounded.

Except this time it didn't help.

It didn’t give you enough to focus on to crack some smart-ass remark or shove your feelings into a tiny box.

It was too much.

“It’s all I’ve ever been,” The words spilled from your lips before you could stop them, like blood gushing from an open wound that you had tried and failed to stitch together too many times before.

Alex softened, and she took a step towards you, gently catching your arm and pulling it towards her, effectively stopping your from ripping your hair out.

“Monkey,” She said softly.

You jerked away, like a wounded animal. You would not let her pretend that she didn’t think that. That she didn’t hate how you followed after her when you were young, that she didn’t despise how you distracted from her.

“No! I heard you. I’m just the spare Morgan chasing after you, taking people’s attention off of you, and joining in uninvited on your opportunities. This will not be like that. I won’t fuck this up for you. You need to go back, and I’ll be there in a few minutes,”

The words forced themselves out of your lips like they had been waiting to leave for forever. They broke you apart as you choked trying to hold in your emotions. As you fought to close the lid back on Pandora’s box.

Alex caught you again, pulling you into her, and you quaked against her chest, sucking in strangled breaths. Her arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tightly, just like she did when you were little after a busy trip to the mall when the crowds had made your tummy flutter.

You didn’t fight her, instead burying your face in her neck, curling into her like you hadn’t since she left for college.

She held you like the two of you had all the time in the world. Like you weren't on a random sidewalk with random people walking around you.

She didn’t pull back until your trembling had slowed and your breathing had evened out, and she very gently ran her thumb under your eyes.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying.

“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked when your eyes met her identical blue.

“You said it,” You mumbled, sniffing lightly.

Alex’s eyes scrunched and a crinkle appeared between them. “When?”

“I was trying to surprise you at Berkley. Mom thought I had practice, and I took the bus. I heard you,” You said, your eyes closing as that day played back through your head.

It had taken some serious convincing from Jen that Alex missed you, and that she was desperate to see you since you had gone radio silent on her. You had been so excited as you waited near the Berkeley bleachers for their practice to finish.

She had been walking with one of her teammates, and they were talking about someone Coach McGuire was going to invite to practice.

“It just makes no sense, why would he extend that kind of an offer to a kid?” The girl you didn’t recognize said, nudging your sister as they stepped off the field. “Like fuck, it has to suck to always have your younger sister getting opportunities off of your hard work,”

Alex hummed, shifting her bag over her shoulder, and you moved to be more hidden under the bleachers.

The little sound was like a knife in your chest, deflating the balloon of excitement that had been there since you snuck out this morning.

Alex didn’t want to see you. She thought you were getting things off of her hard work.

“Don’t they understand that you want something that’s yours?” The girl continued, and you bit down hard on your lip to stop the tears from leaking down your cheeks. “You should have to deal with her being a distraction from your greatness,”

You would never cry for Alex again.

You shook your head and refocused on Alex in front of you, shoving away the cracking feeling in your stomach.

“Go back to your dinner. I’ll be there in a bit,” You said, forcing your voice steady. Emotionless. In control. “I promise Alex. I just needed some air,”

“No,” Alex said sternly, her arm tightening around you so you couldn’t pull away. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut down on me. I'm not going anywhere,”

You blinked at her, fighting to swallow the warmth that spread through you. It couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be honest about this.

You had already resolved that she didn’t actually care about you. That she loathed the responsibility of you from when you were younger. You couldn’t wrap your head around anything else.

And before you could stop it the strangled “Why?” Fell from your lips.

She chuckled, running her thumb under your eyes again and wiping away the tears that would not stop. “Because I fucking love you, and I can’t read your fucking mind, no matter how many times I told you I could when you were little,”

You knew the comment was meant to draw a chuckle or a smile, but it didn’t.

Alex ducked her head when you tried to look away, not letting you break eye contact. Not letting you bury your emotions and draw back into yourself. Making sure you heard her. “I want to fix our relationship. I’ve wanted to fix it since you stopped talking to me when I moved out. I don’t understand what happened, even though I probably should, and I can’t if you don’t tell me,”

You sniffled, unable to stop yourself from leaning into her touch as her thumb ran circles under your eyes, clearing away the tears as they continued to fall. It warmed your cheeks, and traveled down to your tummy. It made you feel… safe. Something you hadn’t really felt that way (aside from when you were with Taylor) since you were 12.

The two of you stood like that for a long minute, stuck in your own bubble, uncaring of the crowds rushing around you.

It took you another moment to realize Alex’s eyebrow was raised, and that she was looking at you like she always had when she expected a response.

You swallowed hard. “Ok,”

The word was simple but held a weight not lost on either of you. What you were agreeing to wasn’t lost, and neither was the vulnerability it took to let it out.

Alex’s head tilted, a smile tugging at her lips. “Ok.”

You nodded, finally pulling yourself out of her grasp and wiping your face with your arm. “I’ll try. Old habits die hard,”

“I know,” Alex hummed, and you knew she was saying more.

She was saying that she knew how hard it was for you to voice your feelings sometimes. How difficult it was for you to be open.

She was saying that she knew you.

And it had a warm feeling filtering deep in your tummy.

You looked away, clearing your throat. “We should go back. It’s your night and you should get to enjoy it,”

Alex sighed.“ This doesn’t change my ability to enjoy my night. If you need more time, we have plenty,”

Your shoulders rolled, and your back straightened. Your fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the back of your neck.

It was something Alex had seen a million times. The way you pieced yourself back together, even when you didn’t necessarily have to. Even when you weren’t ready to.

It was unsettling, how little this part of you had changed.

“The only bad thing about the city lights is that you can’t see the stars,” She said, watching how the abrupt change in subject took an immediate effect.

You blinked at her, your eyes instinctively glancing upward towards the sky, and your shoulders relaxing.

Bingo she thought.

You might not have had a conversation with her in years, but she still knew you. And your obsession with astronomy… well more like your obsession with Greek mythology and stars… hadn’t changed.

You hadn’t changed all that much. Well, most of you, no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise.

“Canis Minor is there,” You mumbled, pointing up at the sky barely visible surrounded by the neon lights of the city. “And Vela and Volans are there. It’s hard, but you can make them out,”

She hummed, not at all surprised that you could pick out the constellations even when you could only see a small part of them. But that wasn’t the point.

The point was how you relaxed.

You looked back towards her, your hand dropping as you let out a shaky breath.

“Let’s go back,” You said. “I don’t want your food to get cold,”

Alex nodded. “As long as you’re ready,”

You made a low sound in the back of your throat and turned back towards the restaurant. “Let’s go,”

She signed, reminding herself that everything wouldn’t be fixed in a day. You wouldn’t be fixed in a day. It would take baby steps, and you had given her more today than you had in years.

“Ok,” She agreed, letting you lead her back towards the restaurant, and your family.

*****

“You sure you don’t want a ride kid?” Kelley asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

You nodded, forcing a smile across your lips. “Oh yeah, I’m good,”

The end of dinner had actually been nice.

No one had said a thing when you and Alex returned to the table, just before your food arrived. The conversation had been light, focused on the proposal, and no one had tried to force you to join in.

They hadn’t even batted an eyelash when you pulled out your phone to text your girlfriend about where you would be sleeping, and made eye contact with the two men who had taken up a table in the back corner of the restaurant.

Desert had been… almost pain-free, which set you on edge.

Nothing in your family came without a cost, and you wondered what it would be. Especially since Alex had come after you.

But everyone said their goodbyes and headed to their cars with very little fanfare.

All except for Kelley who was worried when you lingered near the entrance of the restaurant.

“You don’t have to stand here with me,” you said, glancing down the street, looking for the familiar black Escalade you assumed Taylor would be sending to retrieve you. You figured Tony was driving, since he had disappeared, leaving Zach to linger a few feet away from you. “I'm just waiting for my Uber,”

Kelley made a low noise. “And while I’m sure your new mob friends could take care of you, Alex would kill me if I left you here without knowing your plan,”

You blew out a breath, a strange warmth in your stomach at the thought that Alex would care. “My ride should be just around the corner. You can go, and I’ll be fine,”

It didn’t even bug you that Emily had apparently convinced her you were in the mob too.

“Burrito girl?” She asked, her features softening.

You nodded, glancing sideways toward where Alex was standing. “Satisfied now?”

You weren’t ready for your older sister to know yet. You weren’t ready to hear about how you weren’t mature enough. Or how your reputation would impact your relationship.

You didn’t want to be lectured about how much older Taylor was.

Kelley wiggled her eyebrows as a black Escalade pulled around the corner. “Very,”

“You’re far too smug about this,” You huffed, again glancing towards your sister, who still seemed oblivious to your conversation.

Kelley followed your eyes, and her smirk softened. “You know she wouldn’t be upset that you’re seeing someone right? She just wants you to be happy,”

“I know,” You mumbled, feeling the kid you had forced over your emotions rattle in your chest. You had already been too vulnerable tonight. “I just… I’m still figuring it all out, and I don’t want the pressure yet,”

Kelley made a low noise of agreement in the back of her throat. Like she wanted to argue with you, but knew you weren’t in a place to listen.

You wondered how much she knew about your earlier moment with Alex. How she knew so well not to push.

The black Escalade came to a smooth stop in front of you, and Zach stepped up from behind you to stand near the rear passenger door.

You appreciated that he didn’t say anything.

“Tell your burrito mob boss hello,” Kelley said, patting your back. “And I’ll take care of your sister,”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly at her before Zach opened the door for you and you slid into the backseat of the car.

Zach closed the door behind you and was in the passenger seat before you could think too hard about what Kelley had said.

“To Taylor’s apartment?” Tony asked you, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “Or did you want to make a pitstop first?”

You blinked at him, not expecting to have a choice in where he was taking you. You figured Taylor had given him instructions already. That he would do whatever she told him to because she was the one paying his (probably incomprehensibly expensive) salary.

You cleared your throat, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Taylor’s apartment is fine, thanks,”

“No problem kid,” He winked, his eyes returning to the street ahead of him.

Zach reached forward and flicked the radio, letting quiet pop fill the car, and you relaxed back into the leather seats.

It was weird. This was weird. You felt so… off balance after your moment with Alex. It made you feel so vulnerable.

You needed to get rid of the raw feeling in your chest. You needed control.

You swallowed hard and looked out the window as the lights of the city passed.

*****

One thing you absolutely loved about Taylor’s apartment was that it was always stocked with sweets. And since you had started dating, your favorites seemed to appear alongside the treats that she enjoyed.

“How was dinner?” She asked you, passing you the container of chocolate frosting as you sat on her kitchen counter.

She was dressed in short shorts and an old Philadelphia Eagles shirt, her feet bare. She was relaxed and comfortable. Which felt like a stark contrast to needles prickling in your stomach. The pins tingling the back of your neck.

She had been waiting for you near the elevator when the SUV pulled into her private garage, and she welcomed you with a hug that was so… warm that it almost made you forget how raw you felt.

She held you as you ascended to her apartment, and all the way into her kitchen, asking if you were up for a bit of dessert.

You were surprised she hadn’t immediately tried to get you to talk about dinner with your sisters and Kelley. That she didn’t pry into it the second she had the chance like Mal would have.

Now you found that you didn’t mind the question.

“Fine,” You shrugged, sticking a spoon in the frosting and twisting it around, lifting it to examine the scoop you had made. “They mostly gushed over the ring Kelley picked, and how romantic it was to propose on the Empire State Building,”

You licked your spoon, pulling it into your mouth, and your eyes closed at the taste.

It was silky and smooth, much better than the cheap frosting you always brought.

“You don’t think it’s gush-worthy?” Taylor asked when your eyes fluttered back open.

You paused, thinking about it for a long second as you got another scoop of frosting.

You actually thought Kelley’s proposal was sweet. It combined some of your sister’s favorite things and one of her favorite places. It made sense.

But it was so cliché.

“For Alex it is,” You shrugged, sticking the spoon in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the ridges to get all of the delicious chocolate.

Taylor hummed, stepping up between your legs, her hands running gently over the dark denim of our jeans. “But it’s not what you would want?”

You shook your head, scooping a bit more frosting on your spoon.

“I think I’d want something more creative,” You said, your lips quirked up, as you held the spoon out for her. “You know, like under the Eiffel Tower,”

“So original,” She rolled her eyes, letting you slip the spoon past her lips.

Sharing food with her was a habit you had picked up. Something that settled the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that she was too skinny. That there was something… wrong with her relationship to food.

Her fingers tightened around your thighs and you tilted the spoon up and her chin tilted to follow, exposing the long lines of her neck. You traced them with your eyes, swallowing hard.

It had want bubbling in your stomach alongside the needles. It had you leaning into where you knew this evening was heading. Into the coping mechanism that hadn’t failed you yet, even though you so desperately wanted things with Taylor to be different.

But maybe tonight they didn’t have to be.

You hummed, pulling the spoon away.

She let her tongue trail along it, her eyes fluttering open to make eye contact with you. “That’s good,”

“You bought it, so I would hope you like it,”

You dipped the spoon back into the container, pulling up a glob of frosting and bringing it to your lips.

She watched you intently, waiting for the spoon to leave your mouth with a little pop before very slowly leaning in. It gave you enough time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to.

You needed this. To feel in control.

You leaned forward, connecting your lips in a languid kiss. Her tongue gently pressed against your lips, and you opened your mouth to grant her access.

It carefully explored around your mouth, dancing with your tongue in a slow waltz, licking the residual frosting from every surface it touched.

She let out a low noise in the back of her throat as she pulled away. “That one tasted better,”

You wiggled your eyebrows, dropping the spoon back into the container. “Did it now?”

“It did,” She nodded, her thumbs running up and down your thighs.

You leaned forward, connecting your lips again and slowly sliding off the counter. Your hands landed heavily on her hips and her arms draped across your shoulders, pulling you closer, her fingers playing with the baby hairs at the back of your neck.

It was easy for you to snatch control of the kiss, Taylor gave it to you willingly.

It should have smoothed over the frayed edges of your nerves. It should have quieted your thoughts and made you more present.

Instead, you slipped farther into your head.

You replayed the feelings of Alex’s hand in your hair, the weight of her arm around you. How you had made a promise you weren’t sure you really wanted to keep.

Your lips never left her as she took a step back towards the hallway that led to her room, and you slipped your fingers under the hem of her shirt, skating along the waistband of her shorts.

You loved the smooth skin there, and the goosebumps that trailed after your light touch. They distracted you so much that you didn’t notice her turning down the hallway until you were stumbling over your feet to keep up.

Her lips tilted into a smirk as she used her newfound leverage to switch your position.

Your back hit the wall with a low thump. Her lips reattached to yours, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your skull, and the other cupped your chin as she pressed you into the wall, her thigh landing heavily between your legs.

It was more demanding, more needy, more in control.

It jarred you out of your head. Out of the rabbit hole of how being honest with Alex would help you link the back line to the front line better. Of how it would allow more line breaking balls through towards the edge where your sister always danced to stay onside.

“You didn’t think I was a pillow princess did you?” She asked, winking at your surprised eyes.

You let out a sigh at the pressure against your core, doing everything in your power to prevent your hips from pulling back when she rocked against you.

This you weren’t used to. This you had never done with anyone besides Mal.

You sucked in a breath through your nose, deciding to focus on the things that you enjoyed. You leaned into the kiss.

You liked the way her tongue explored your mouth. You liked how her fingers twitched against your jaw before they made their way to your collar.

Your head tilted to give her more room as she began trailing warm, wet kisses down your neck.

A shiver ran down your spine when she hit the spot just below your right ear, and you let out another low sigh. She echoed the sound, her fingers deft as they undid the first button of your shirt.

She let the blunt nail of her pointer finger graze your collarbone, trailing after her as she moved to the next button, leaving flames in its wake.

Goosebumps erupted on the newly exposed skin, and you felt her smirk against your neck.

Her long fingers splayed across your abs, tapping out a rhythm you couldn’t define.

“Do you know how amazing these are?” She asked, her warm breath hitting the damp skin of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine as her fingers tapped you a bit harder. “I think about them all the time. It’s not fair that I’ve only gotten glimpses of them, especially with how much you show them off,”

“You were a bit distracted,” You smirked, projecting confidence that you didn’t feel, your fingers closing around her hips, trying to maintain a sliver of control.

She flexed her thigh again to prevent you from flipping your positions though.

“Hmm,” She hummed, a devilish smile cracking across her lips as she dropped to her knees. Your breath caught in your throat, and you splayed your hands on the wall behind you, trying to hide how much they were shaking.

You didn’t know how to handle this. How to do this.

“Well I’m not distracted now, and I’m going to give them the attention they deserve,” She said, her hands moving the edges of your shirt out of the way.

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you now?”

Your voice barely wobbled as you spoke, and you took it as a win.

“I am,” she nodded, determination glinting in her eyes. She leaned forward, placing an open mouth kiss on the abb right above your left hip. Her tongue followed the ridge of the muscle to the other side.

you bit your bottom lip and allowed your head to fall back against the wall with a low thump.

You liked this touch. More than any touch you had ever had before. You had never let anyone get this far before, not even Mal really.

Things had been quick with her, like touching you was an unpleasant chore. One neither of you had ever been fond of.

This. This was different.

Taylor took her time, lavishing each individual muscle as her warm mouth traveled around your stomach. A chill trailed after her lips, the air landing on your wet skin sending goosebumps across your flesh, stoking a foreign fire in your belly that was almost enough to quiet the growing dread.

Almost.

She made her way up your stomach, placing a line of kisses up your chest and collarbone before she again landed on the special spot on your neck.

“Let’s get you out of these pants,”

You sucked in a harsh breath through your nose, forcing yourself to remain relaxed. You tried to enjoy the feeling of her hands tracing the residue left on your stomach. Tried to focus on the softness of her lips on your neck and the scent of her perfume.

Tried to let it drive away ghosts of calloused fingers and gruff voices.

It almost worked.

Then her thumb flicked open the button of your jeans, and you couldn’t temper your reaction. You couldn’t quell the growing anxiety in your chest. You froze, every muscle in your body going rigid for a split second before you could force them to relax again.

You hoped that Taylor wouldn’t notice, but she did.

“Y/n?” She said softly as she pulled back, her hands retreating from their position at your waist to cup your cheek, and her leg falling from between yours.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open and met very worried blue. You could see the questions forming. The concern dripped from her form.

But you knew you couldn’t answer. You weren’t ready to unlock Pandora's box yet. Not when you knew you would never be able to shut it again. You only knew one way to stop her from asking. One way to regain control.

You surged forward, your hands on her hips giving you the leverage to push her back against the wall opposite of you. Your mouth landed hot against her neck, lavishing the soft skin with open-mouthed kisses, and your thigh slotted between her legs pressing into her core with the perfect amount of pressure to distract her.

“I’m ok,” You muttered hotly into her ear, pressing more firmly into her center. “Let me make you feel good,”

She sucked in a breath, her hips stuttering like they wanted to grind against you, but she wouldn’t let them.

You dragged your tongue down her neck, letting your teeth just barely graze her sensitive skin, and rocked your hips. Your thumbs scared along the sliver of skin just above her shorts trying to convince her to just go with it.

To let her let you distract her.

You thought for a second that it had worked, as a low groan left her lips. You thought that maybe you had… derailed her enough to forget about your momentary lapse in the hold you had on your emotions. But just as you went to slip your hand into her pants she stopped you.

Her palm pressed firmly into your chest, insistent until you pulled away enough to make eye contact with her.

“I want us to both feel good,” she said sternly.

You swallowed at the comment, fighting to keep your face neutral.

“Making you feel good will make me feel good,” You said, trying to lean back in, but the hand on your chest stopped you.

“Y/n you tensed,” She said, her blue eyes burning into yours, looking for answers, the charge between you melting away.

You sighed as you pulled away from her until your back hit the wall opposite of her. You ran a hand through your messy curls and glared up at her ceiling, unable to look at her.

You were afraid that if you did, she would be able to read your mind. She would see the… brokenness you fought so hard to hide. But you had never been able to hide from Taylor.

Even before you were dating, you had let her closer to you than anyone had ever gotten before. She was scarily perceptive and had been able to read you from the beginning of your friendship even better than Mal could (and that was saying something). Her abilities only seemed to get more acute as you got closer.

This was the only area she hadn’t seemed to pick up on.

You let yourself slide down the wall, your eyes closing as you sucked in another breath. You still felt so raw from your talk with Alex. Too… vulnerable. Like opening up again would finally crack your chest in half.

“I’m,” You started and stopped, unsure of what you were actually going to say. “I’m not good at receiving,”

You settled on the phrase, drawing up the courage to finally open your eyes, pulling your knees close to your chest and resting your chin on them.

You were surprised that Taylor had slid down her own wall so she was sitting across from you and mirroring your posture.

She made a low sound in the back of her throat, and her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not good at it?”

There was no judgment in her voice. None of the disgust you expected.

“I can’t ever get out of my head enough to… enjoy it I guess,” You cleared your throat and looked away from her, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. “No one’s ever noticed before”

It was a semi-truth. In your slew of hookups, no one had ever cared. No one had pushed back when you stopped them. No one had ever not let you distract them.

But then again, Taylor was nothing like your hookups.

You actually had feelings for her that stretched beyond self-loathing and the need to be in control of something. To be good enough. There was nothing quite like the rush that came from making a beautiful woman fall apart under you. It was irrefutable evidence that you were capable.

Taylor’s eyes tightened. It physically hurt her that none of your past partners (if she could call them that) had cared enough beyond their own needs to see the obvious. And that you were willing to bypass your own comfort so someone else could feel good.

She wanted to kick herself for not noticing that something was wrong sooner.

“You’ve never talked through limits or likes and dislikes with any of the people you’ve slept with?”

You ran another hand through your hair (making it impossibly more messy) and let out a very long breath.

You shrugged. “We were never doing anything beyond vanilla and it never progressed past a few one-sided orgasms,”

You had never let any of them touch you. Hell, you hadn’t even gotten undressed for most of them. The thought of doing anything… kinky sent a shiver down your spine so you hadn’t. It was just easier to keep distance from the people you slept with. It was safer that way.

Taylor shifted, very slowly scooting towards you, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your foot like she thought you would freak out if she moved too fast.

“Well, I think there’s a need now,” Taylor said, watching your every movement.

Your eyes were scarily hollow, accented by the red that rimmed them from the time you had made it to her apartment. She had wanted to ask about it. Pushed just a little to find out if you had been crying, and why. But you didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

You had pivoted to sex almost as soon as she tried to bring it up. It sent red flags up in her mind. Red flags that only got brighter.

She couldn’t help but replay every interaction the two of you had had in her mind. There would be time to agonize over every little detail later, but even now, your… reluctance to undress, or allow her to touch you was glaringly obvious. How the moment she flipped your typical script, you couldn’t hide it anymore.

She was slightly ashamed she hadn’t noticed it before. That she had ignored the signs of your discomfort, even if they were well masked.

Have you ever wanted to have sex? Had she put you in a position where you didn’t feel like you could refuse?

She never wanted you to feel forced, whether that was about talking about how you were feeling or having sex. She wanted you to feel comfortable enough to tell her when you weren’t ok with something.

Your nose dipped behind your thighs, your forehead pressed into your knees, and you squeezed your arms more tightly around them like you were literally trying to hold yourself together.

Her heart broke a little more at the barely audible “ok” that left your lips.

She scooted closer to you, her hand carefully drawing up your shin and weaving in your curls. Her nails scratched gently on your scalp, and you practically melted.

Your shoulders relaxed and you let out a long breath before you shifted to look up at her, your chin balanced on your knees.

She brushed a curl from in front of your eyes. “When did you start to feel uncomfortable?”

You scrunched your nose. It was a hard question.

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to explain that your mind went to soccer as soon as anything remotely intimate started. How were you supposed to explain that you were just defective?

But maybe you didn’t have to.

She didn’t ask you that. All she asked was when you started to feel uncomfortable, and that answer was easy.

It was the moment your back hit the wall. The moment you were jarred out of the safe space in your head.

The moment she forced you to be present, unlike every other girl you had ever been with.

But you weren’t entirely uncomfortable. Maybe at the start, but you had enjoyed parts of being with her. You wanted to enjoy being with her. But you were just… incapable. Defectives

You settled for a shrug, curling tighter into yourself. You didn’t want her to see how… fucked up you were. It would only push her away.

That’s what pushed Mal away. And Alex. And your parents.

You would never be good enough, and you had just wanted to pretend as long as you could. You weren’t ready to lose Taylor yet.

“Ok. It’s ok,” Taylor’s voice was gentle, and her hand trailed to tangle in the baby curls at the back of your neck. “Let’s try something else. Can you tell me what you liked?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “This time?”

“Any of the times,” She said soothingly, her fingers never stopping their gentle scratches at the back of your neck.

You closed your eyes, leaning back into her hand. “I like it when you do this,”

She hummed, and you could hear a smile in it. “Anything else?”

“I like kissing you,” You mumbled, feeling the red flair in your cheeks.

Her lips always tasted like coffee, and something so… Taylor. They were addictive in the best way.

“And I like holding you,” You added. There was something comforting about having her in your arms. Something that made you feel safe. “And I like it when you hold me,”

“But the rest?” She asked you gently.

Your shoulders lifted and fell. You did what was expected of you. What you knew worked.

You went with the flow just like Emily told you too, and then had been too caught in your head to savor the moment. To take in all of the little details that you wanted to remember. No matter how hard you fought, you just… couldn’t.

You quite liked touching her too, but you knew there was something wrong with your inability to remain in the moment when you did. You knew that she deserved for you to be present.

“I’m just not good at receiving,” You repeated, misery leaking into your tone.

It was the only response you could come up with. The only explanation that remotely made sense. This was when she would realize you were… defective. This was when she would leave. But she didn’t.

She gently squeezed the back of your neck. A silent request for you to look at her and a comforting touch that told you that it was ok. It took you a second to gain the courage to look up, but when you did, you didn’t see the disgust you expected.

Her eyes were soft, sad, and they held another emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “I like holding and kissing you too,”

She shifted a little closer to you, so her knee was touching yours. “And I’ll hold and kiss you for as long as you’ll let me, at whatever pace makes you feel comfortable,”

You made a low noise.

It was strange. Conceptually, you could understand what she was saying, but you had never been with someone who didn’t judge you based on your ability to give them an orgasm. You wondered how long her patience would last. How long would she stay when she realized how deeply you were fucked up.

“How about we go cuddle on the couch and watch a movie?” She asked, squeezing the back of your neck gently.

Your nose scrunched as she pulled away, pushing herself to her feet and holding her hand out to you. “You know I don’t like movies,”

You didn’t have the attention span for them, and you would inevitably get bored halfway through.

She hummed, wiggling her fingers so you would take her hand. “How about survivor then?”

Your tension melted at the mention of your favorite show, and your easy smile returned to your features.

“Yes! We have to watch Heroes vs Villains so you can see Russel at his finest,” You said, allowing her to pull you into her side.

“Whatever you want sunshine,” She kissed your forehead and guided you back towards her living room.

It felt like going to her bedroom was too much, too fast. She didn’t want you to think she had some… expectations despite the clear signs that you were not ready to progress past cuddling. Not while you would so easily compromise your limits.

Not while your limits still felt so unclear.

She knew that it would take time to work through that, and she was willing to wait and help you for as long as it took.

*****

Soft morning light filtered into your consciousness, waking you gently. You breathed in deeply, shifting on a bed that you knew wasn’t yours.

It smelled like lilacs and Taylor’s perfume, sweet and inviting and safe. You could hear soft music from somewhere else in the apartment and felt cool sheets next to you.

You frowned, pushing yourself to a sitting position with a yawn. It was rare you woke up after Taylor. That you slept in in general.

But it shouldn’t have surprised you with what had happened last night. Sure, the two of you had fallen asleep together just after Pavarti and Russel had schemed to take down the Hero’s tribe during the merge. Taylor held you just like she promised, but you should have known it wouldn’t last.

A good nights sleep had opened her eyes. She had reflected and decided you were too… broken to be worth it.

“Fuck,” You mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the palms of your hands.

You should have stopped her before she got to your pants. You should have been more subtle and slipped your position instead of tensing.

You should have been prepared to lose hold on the iron box that held your emotions. You should have had more control.

But you didn’t, and now you were most likely going to lose your girlfriend.

She would break up with you in the sweetest way possible. She would say that it was her. That she was the problem, and you would accept that.

You would nod along, and make it easy for her. Just like you had with Mal when she told you that Dansby was her soulmate. That he was so good and perfect.

You dragged your hands up your face, and into your hair, ruffling your messy curls as you pushed yourself out of bed. There was no point in drawing this out longer than it needed to be.

You stretched, pulling your shirt down over your boxers as you padded out of Taylor’s room towards the sound of the music. You could also make out soft voices as you got closer. Your eyebrows furrowed. Who was Taylor talking to?

You peeked your head around the corner, your frown deepening when you saw a redhead sitting at the island across from Taylor, a large stack of papers sitting to the right of her, drinking a cup of coffee and humming to a song you had never heard before.

Why was she here?

Taylor turned from the stove, catching sight of you before you could hide back behind the wall. “Hey babe, good morning,” She said brightly, smiling widely at you.

“Morning,” You said slowly, stepping out from behind the hallway wall.

She gestured to the woman across from her. “This is Tree,”

“Hello,” You waved awkwardly at the redhead.

“She just swang by to hear a bit of the new album,” Taylor explained easily, turning back towards the cabinets. “Do you want some coffee?”

Tree smiled brilliantly at you, showing off perfectly white teeth in a way that surprisingly didn’t feel forced.

But you could sense the lie in Taylor’s explanation of why her publicist was there. Of why the woman who handled all of Taylor’s outward appearances appeared with a massive contract right after you had shown her how defective you were?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” She said, pushing out the stool next to her, a clear invitation to sit.

You shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and dragged a hand through your hair.

Neither of them seemed… angry. Or like they were plotting the fastest way to get you out of the apartment. But you didn’t trust it. All of your instincts told you not to.

“Nice to meet you too,” You said slowly, stepping towards the stool and gesturing to the stack of papers. “Listen, I’ll sign whatever you want me to sign. Can I just take a shower before you kick me out?”

“What?” Taylor and Tree said in unison, Taylor nearly dropping the mug she was holding and Tree’s eyes tightening.

“I just hate to put on clean clothes without showering,” You scratched more insistently at the back of your neck, your fingers tangling in the tight curls at the base of your skull. “And Alex and Kelley would think it’s weird if I show up to their house in what I wore last night, and I won’t be able to accurately answer their questions,”

Taylor’s eyebrows pulled tightly together and she set the mug down, stepping closer to the island. “Y/n, slow down,”

You ignored her. You knew you were rambling at this point but you couldn’t stop yourself. “I promise I’ll be in and out in like 5 minutes. I won’t even do my hair,”

“Y/n stop,” Taylor moved around the island, catching your hand as it began to tug at the roots of your curls.

“What are you talking about?” She asked you softly, ducking to catch your eye.

“You’re going to break up with me because of what happened,” You rushed out, catching her frown and immediately backtracking. “Which is totally fine. I understand that you want someone… with less baggage. I just want to take a shower before you make me leave,”

“I’m not breaking up with you,”

You blinked at her. What was that supposed to mean?

Was she going to make you do it so she could be the good guy? Was her publicist there to witness it so they could write a story about it?

“Do you want me to break up with you then?” You asked, softly. You hated the fragility in your voice.

Taylor’s head cocked to the side and she raised an eyebrow at you. “No,”

It was your turn to frown. “I don’t understand what’s happening,”

“I’m not breaking up with you. You’re not breaking up with me,” She said like it was simple, tugging you towards the stools. “You’re going to sit down and drink your coffee while I make breakfast. You can talk to Tree if you like, or just listen to some of the tracks from my new album. But no one is getting kicked out or leaving,”

“Oh,” You breathed out, your shoulders dropping. “I don’t like eggs,”

“I know,” Taylor rolled her eyes, an amused smirk on her lips as she turned back towards the counter. “I’m making pancakes,”

“With chocolate chips?” You asked, watching her warily as you took the seat next to Tree slowly.

You felt like you were in a stupid rom-com that Alex would like. Like you were the idiot boyfriend who was lost.

“Of course,” Taylor hummed, sliding you a mug. “Drink your coffee,”

“So I heard you’re going to be playing for Washington this season,” Tree said, and you really looked at her for the first time.

Her eyes were kind, and she actually seemed… interested.

“If they ever get me a place to live,” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “Their manager keeps giving me the runaround and preseason starts in like 2 weeks,”

Her eyebrows pulled tightly together and she tapped her perfectly manicured nail on the edge of her mug, just beside the tea bag string. “They haven’t figured that out yet?”

“No. The only option they sent me doesn’t allow pets, which is a serious problem for my 3 huskies,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

To be honest, your move to DC was nearly as painful as the one from North Carolina to Chicago. You just hoped that this time there wouldn’t be a dismembered toe in whatever apartment they put you up in. And hopefully, you had working AC…

The redhead's frown deepened. “Don’t you have a manager that takes care of that?”

Your nose scrunched. “He’s not helpful,”

Your manager, Travis, had never been… involved. You were one of his 70 clients, and he preferred to do nothing besides collect his paycheck while teams fucked you this way and that. He rarely ever answered your calls, and when he did, he acted like a total slimeball. One more than one occasion he had insisted that he could turn you straight.

Taylor turned away from the stove, meeting Tree’s frown. You could tell there was a question on the tip of her tongue, one you probably didn’t want to answer just as much as you didn’t want to talk about what had happened last night.

Tree shook her head slightly, a movement just barely perceptible, making a low sound in the back of her throat and pulling out her phone. “I’ll take care of it,”

You blanched as Taylor turned back to the stove, flipping a pancake.

You reached for Tree’s arm before she could fully stand from her stool. “No, that's ok. I can figure it out,”

You didn’t need anyone else to get involved. You didn’t need to make a big deal out of this. You were sure it would only make it worse for you when you arrived.

You’d heard that the Washington coach Richie was no better than Paul or Rory, and you knew the only way to deal with it was by not making waves. By gritting your teeth and keeping your head down.

Tree smiled, squeezing your arm and grabbing her phone as she stepped towards the back balcony. “I’ll be right back,”

You sighed when she disappeared through the glass doors, sinking into the stool, looping your hand through the mug handle, and taking a long drag of your coffee.

It was perfect. Sweet and light exactly how you liked it, and the soft music playing in the background only made it better. You had never heard this song before. It was just a guitar track, with Taylor’s voice and you found yourself entranced by it.

I know that it’s delicate, delicate.

You pressed your fingers into the side of your mug as you took another long sip, your eyes following Taylor as she hummed along to the song while flipping the pancakes onto a plate.

She turned back towards you, sliding the plate across the marble island, and leaning against it. She waited for you to take a bite of your favorite breakfast, smiling when your eyes practically rolled back into your head at the taste.

Her new music wasn’t the only reason Tree had visited. But she knew she had to explain that very… carefully. She didn't want to set you off, especially when you still seemed so frazzled from the night before. When you thought she would kick you out for tensing.

She had her suspicions about why your reaction had been so strong, suspicions she had briefly discussed with Tree, but she knew she had to tread carefully. She had the feeling that if you felt too vulnerable, you would shut down entirely.

But considering the pictures the news media had tried to splash across the headlines, she wasn’t surprised that you had tried to use sex as a distraction (or something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on). It seemed like it was your go-to method, and explained why you had been so content to leave a trail of bodies in the wake of your reputation.

She also wasn’t surprised that it had ended… the way it did. You had already been emotionally vulnerable. Too vulnerable to have the kind of sex that was deeper than just movements and orgasms.

She sighed. She would have to tell you why Tree was there, preferably before Tree herself told you.

“Paparazzi got pictures of you and Alex last night,” She said, trying to stay casual. Trying to make it seem like no big deal.

You paused, fork full of pancake freezing midair in its trajectory to your mouth for a brief second before you dropped it with a clatter back onto the plate.

“Fuck me,” You groaned, dragging your palms over your face and through your hair. “Fuck me hard,”

It was another problem. Another thing for you to deal with. When honestly, you just wanted to pretend like last night had never happened.

All you needed was for the fans to get ahold of a photo of you crying.

She suppressed a chuckle. “It’s ok, Tree already took care of it,”

You paused, your fingers scrunching in your hair before you dragged them back down your face and picked up your fork.

Your eyes stayed closed for a long second before they opened slowly and you resumed eating like nothing had ever happened.

It was like watching an actor pull on a mask, how you folded all of your emotions up neatly and pushed them inside. It was… incredible and sent alarm bells blazing in Taylor’s mind.

“Oh. Um. Thanks,”

You could feel her eyes appraising you.

“It’s no problem,” She said with a little shrug, bringing her own mug to her lips.

You went back to your pancakes, the only sound between you the scraping of your fork on her plate and the song playing again in the background. Your mind wandered through the chorus, enjoying the way the beat drop tickled the little spot in the back of your head. Your eyes swept across the kitchen landing on the giant stack of papers in front of Tree’s empty stool.

“What are the papers?” You asked after a moment, pointing to it with your fork when the music died down and the song restarted.

Taylor reached for it, placing it between you and spinning it so you could read it. You didn’t. The print was small and close together, and you didn’t want to give yourself a headache.

“You said that no one has ever discussed limits and boundaries with you, so I thought it might be nice to do that,” Taylor explained carefully.

You raised an eyebrow at her. “So you printed a packet?”

“Well, no,” She shook her head. “I know you said that you had never done anything beyond vanilla, but I have, and I think it’s important to thoroughly know my partners limits,”

You let a teasing smirk play across your lips, sinking into the teasing to cover how… off kilter you felt.

You had never discussed limits. With anyone. And it scared you what she could discover. What if something you said turned her off? What if she didn’t want you after you filled out her packet?

“I didn’t know you were kinky Miss Swift,” You said, wiggling your eyebrows. “Or is there some other title you prefer?”

A bright red blush spread across her cheeks, traveling down her neck, and she looked away from you.

Before you could follow up, to make the gorgeous red color travel further, the sound of the glass door opening echoed through the kitchen, and Tree stepped back inside.

“Ok. I’ve got your housing settled, and I ordered a moving crew to help you,” Tree said as she sat back down beside you, seemingly oblivious to the tension between you and Taylor.

Or maybe she was just better at ignoring Taylor’s reactions.,

You blinked owlishly at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“All you have to do is text this number with the date you want to move and they’ll help you get all of your belongings down to DC,” She said, handing you a sticky note with a number on it.

You had no idea where she had gotten it, but you were thankful for it.

“Oh, uh, thanks,”

She nodded. “If you have any more issues, call me and I’ll take care of it until we can get you a good manager,”

You swallowed your surprise. You weren’t even sure how to go about finding a new manager, and you doubted you could afford one. You weren’t entirely sure how the whole thing worked actually. But Tree seemed to know exactly what to do.

You turned back to your plate, taking another bite of your pancakes. They were like heaven, second only to the Pancakes Kelley made. But something nagged at the back of your mind. Taylor didn’t have a plate in front of her, and there wasn’t one in the sink. You supposed she could have placed it in the dishwasher.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” You asked, your fork pausing midair.

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry,”

A frown pulled at your lips. Now that you thought about it, Taylor was not hungry a lot. She rarely ate snacks when you did, and you were pretty sure she had never finished a meal with you.

“Then I'm not hungry,” You responded, already pushing the half-finished plate away from you, despite the way your mouth watered for more. “Unless you want to share these?”

She sighed heavily, but took your fork nonetheless, stabbing a tiny piece of pancake not drowned in syrup and bringing it to her lips.

“Happy?” She asked you, and your smirk turned real.

“I’m always happy when I’m with you,”

*****

“I don’t understand what that means,” You muttered, reading number 372 of Taylor’s limit questionnaire.

Touching while under sense deprivation

Most of the list had been easy. Things you knew you liked (like kissing), and things you knew you would never want (impact play with a cane). The rating system had also been easy to understand: things you liked and had done, things you wanted to try, things you would only try with lengthy discussion, and things you never wanted to try.

Taylor highlighted her preference in green Sharpie and you did yours in orange as the two of you worked through her packet cuddled on her couch. She had been insistent that the two of you fill out the packet after lunch, and Tree left to give the two of you some privacy.

“It means the use of a blindfold or headphones that cut off one of your senses,” She explained, already highlighting a would like to try in her green highlighter. “It can be fun. When one sense is taken away, others tend to heighten,”

You swallowed hard, biting your lip as the red in your cheeks got impossibly darker.

“I,” you swallowed hard and looked away from her. “I don’t want to do anything where I can’t see you,”

You had enough problems remaining in the moment with her. The idea that you wouldn’t be able to see her terrified you.

It scared you to think about where your brain might take you.

“Ok,” She agreed easily, placing a perfect orange swipe over never try, already moving on to the next one.

It made your head spin how… comfortable with this she was.

It was like she had done this before. She said she liked to know her partner's limits, so maybe she had. You had never asked about past relationships before.

“This isn’t your first time going through this list, is it?” you asked, but the question was more of a statement than an actual question.

She paused, halfway through reading hands restrained while partner touches- giving and looked at you.

“No, it’s not,” She admitted gently. “I… I would rather be over prepared than cross a line that I didn’t know was there,”

Your head tilted, and you raised an eyebrow at her. “And you were doing kinky shit like touching your partner while their hands were restrained?”

“Sometimes,” She shrugged, her eyes narrowing. “But I feel like that wasn’t the question you actually wanted to ask me,”

It was slightly scary how well she could read you sometimes.

You bit your lip. Your questions weren’t polite, but then again you were discussing allowing her to restrain you while you had sex. It was more… intimate than anything you had done with any of your partners, but Taylor seemed… comfortable.

She had done this before, and you wondered… how many others had been in your position.

“You’ve had relationships before?” You asked slowly, picking your cuticle and looking away from her.

“Yes?” She asked back, using a finger under your chin to gently get you to meet her eyes again, as she raised her eyebrow.

“I was wondering if you would tell me a little bit more about them,”

“I’ve had a few, some vanilla, some not so vanilla. A few with men, but the serious ones have only been with women,” She said, her voice soft, like she knew you were insecure about asking. “Is there anything specific you would like to know?”

Your fingers picked more instantly at your thumb. “Were you-… did they-…”

Her thumb ran over your elbow. “Relax and take a deep breath,”

You did, except it didn’t help you. You felt like a fish gaping out of water. You forced your mouth to close, dragging in a deep breath through your nose.

“You said you weren’t a pillow princess,” You mumbled, and a rye smile crossed her lips.

“You want to know if I was tying people up or if they were tying me up?”

You gulped but nodded. That had indeed been your question.

“Well. The dynamic I had with my partners changed with each partner,” She explained thoughtfully. “I found early on that I preferred to give rather than receive, but sometimes it’s nice to just let go and let someone else take care of you,”

You made a low sound as you took in the information. Really, it should have been obvious with the way she already took care of you. She waited for you to ask a follow-up, as the silence stretched between you. When it became clear that you weren’t going to ask, she asked a question of her own.

“Can I ask you a question?” Her head tilted, and she waited for you to nod. “The situationship?”

Your nose involuntarily scrunched. “What about it?”

“I was wondering if you would tell me a little bit more about it,” she mimicked your phrasing gently.

You pulled your chin from her hand and looked away from her again. It was… hard for you to talk about what happened with Mal. It still stung in a way you didn’t expect, even though you didn’t… want her anymore. Not like you had.

“It was a teammate. We were under a lot of pressure, and it just kinda… happened,” You mumbled. “I got hooked and she didn’t, so she chose someone else,”

Taylor made a low noise of understanding in the back of her throat. “But not before stringing you along,”

Your lips pressed into a thin line and you shook your head. “No,”

You didn’t want to give her more details, to let yourself remember the agony of how it all devolved. How it felt like she was running you over broken glass every time you interacted. Giving you hope just to swipe it away at the last second.

“For how long?” Taylor asked softly, drawing your eyes back to her.

“Almost 4 years,” You sighed, running your hand through your hair and massaging the back of your neck. “The last time we hooked up was like 3 months after you and I became friends,”

Her eyes tightened as she did the math in her head. That would make you 13 or 14 when it started. A shiver went down her spine. “So young,”

You shrugged, your fingers digging more deeply into the skin on your neck. “Weird things happen at youth camp,”

“Apparently,” She muttered.

Your reaction to her trying to touch you was starting to make sense. If you had started young, and had a… bad experience…

You cleared your throat. “How long was your last relationship?”

She blinked at you, pulling out of her thoughts. “5 years and some change,”

“Do you talk to any of your exes?” You asked. “Like the serious ones?”

“No, those bridges went down in flames, but I keep up with a few of the less serious ones,” She shook her head. “I’m assuming you still talk to your ex situationship?”

“She’s one of my best friends,” Your shoulders lifted and fell, and your lips formed a very thin line at calling Mal a friend. You disliked how she UNC all over you, and things were… weird when you interacted, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it. She was an integral part of your friend group and of the team. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” She said thoughtfully, reaching over to catch your hand as it again ran through your hair. “Because I trust you,”

“I trust you too,” You said back, and you meant it with everything in you. You trusted Taylor more than you trusted nearly anyone.

She smiled gently at you. “Do you want to continue this list?”

You nodded slowly. “Let’s do this,”

You glanced back down at the stack of papers between you. Yes, it was uncomfortable, but you trusted Taylor.

OoOoOoO May 2017 You come around and the armor falls Pierce the room like a cannonball Now all we know is don't let go

“You are too fast for your own good,” Ali Krieger sighed, settling down on the bench beside you as you squirted more water into your mouth.

You shrugged. “You and Dydasco keep leaving a gap for me to split, and Mal is good at finding space,”

The Washington Spirit captain hummed, sipping her own bottle.

The defender had taken you under her wing as soon as you stepped foot in DC. She had shown up at your apartment ready to help you unpack, only to find it immaculately set up. She had taken you to lunch instead and introduced you to the rest of the team.

They were wary at first given your reputation, but they were slowly finding out that you weren’t what everyone claimed you were.

“Dude, that little through ball is sick!” Mal said before Ali could respond, throwing her arm around you and sitting on the bench practically in your lap. “We can totally use that against Sky Blue,”

You shuffled away from her as far as you could without being obvious, taking another long sip of your drink. “Kelley will be looking for it. She’s seen us do it too much,”

Ali had noticed that there was something… odd about the way you interacted with Mal.

The two of you were inseparable, and your chemistry on the field was entirely unmatched. But there was just something she couldn’t quite put her finger on that bothered her about how Mal was with you.

How you tried to squirm away from her without drawing attention to it, and how Mal would only move closer. How there was a depth to your relationship with the forward, a history, that Ali hadn’t been aware of before.

Mal grabbed your water and squirted some into her own mouth while squeezing your shoulder. “Maybe we can discuss a new game plan over drinks?”

Ali raised her eyebrow. “You’re both underage,”

“Hasn’t stopped Y/n before,” Mal shrugged, nudging you with a giggle. “She can take down a case of beer all on her own,”

You scrunched your nose, and brought your free hand to the back of your neck, pressing deeply into the skin.

“Um, no thanks,” You said. “I have plans,”

Mal froze, dropping the water bottle into your lap, and inadvertently getting your pants wet.

“Plans?” Mal’s eyes narrowed at you, and the edge in her voice made you shiver. “Which one of our teammates are you fucking tonight?”

A grimace crossed your features, but you smothered it under a mask of indifference, as you brought your shoulders up to touch your ears. “None of them,”

Mal relaxed, ever so slightly. “Ah, so you finally got the app Lindsey suggested?”

“No. I don’t use straight dating apps,” You huffed, righting the water bottle. “I don’t need the internet to pick up interested parties, but I’m not seeing some rando either. Not that it’s any of your business,”

“Who was in your pants used to be entirely my business,” Mal mumbled, pressing a finger into the spot right below your ear, dragging it down the curve of your chin, and using it to tilt your head to make eye contact with her. “You liked it being my business,”

You stared her down, something passing between you that Ali didn’t understand.

“And you made sure that it wasn’t anymore,” You said, your voice cold as ice as you pushed her hand away, and squirted more water into your mouth.

“Ok,” Ali said, breaking the tension between you and the forward. “So Kelley will be wise to the through ball, what do you suggest?”

She had never seen you be so… direct.

You put more space between you and Mal, your lip caught between your teeth for a long moment before you shrugged. “I’m sure Richie has a plan. He’s the master strategist isn’t he?”

“You’ve had enough film sessions with him, so you tell me,” Ali countered.

A dark look crossed your features, there for a split second before it was gone. Replaced by an easy smirk that Ali was learning wasn’t so easy. It was the face you made every time something made you uncomfortable and you didn’t want to talk about it.

You took another sip from your water before you squirted it at Mal. “I’m sure he’s got a plan for his superstar,”

You pushed yourself off the bench and ran off towards the midfield coach before either of them could stop you, and Mal went tearing off after you.

Ali shook her head. If only she had as much energy as you two. But still, there was something… nagging in the back of her mind. Red flags she couldn’t quite place.

*****

You hummed quietly to yourself as you lit the final candle on your dining room table.

The table was set. The dinner was in the oven set to the exact temperature Kelley recommended (after she walked you through how to turn it on), removed from its take-out containers and placed in glass dishes, and the trash had been removed taking with it any evidence that your meal hadn’t been created in your kitchen well before Taylor arrived at your apartment (and you had sworn Tony and Zach to secrecy).

You had cleared off the counter in your kitchen, save for a thick off-white envelope, and a bottle of the red wine you knew Taylor preferred. It would be the perfect date night.

Taylor had flown in from Nashville to spend the midweek break with you, and you were fucking stoked. The two of you had seen each other in passing, but getting really quality time together during the season was rough. Nothing would stop you this weekend.

“This is gorgeous,” Taylor hummed as she stepped into the kitchen area. “And it smells amazing,”

You smiled widely at her, pulling out a chair. “Thanks. I was just about to pull it out of the oven if you wanna sit?”

“Such a gentlewoman,” She said, as she sat, and you felt a bit of red color your cheeks.

You had been called many things, but a gentleman (woman- whatever) was never one of them. People tended to believe your reputation and take you at face value.

You were pretty sure Taylor was the only person to ever look past it.

You turned away from her, moving towards the oven. “Only for you,”

She hummed, and you felt her eyes as you got the food out of the oven, and turned off the device before you brought it over to her.

“It looks amazing,” She said as you placed the cookware on the table, and more red bloomed across your cheeks.

“Thanks,” You mumbled, joining her at the table. “It’s coconut curry with chicken, broccoli and rice. It’s got a lot of good fats and protein,”

It was a habit you had started in March, listing out the good parts of your meal. You noticed that she never saw food as fuel or something to be enjoyed. It always seemed like a chore she dreaded or a part of her day she just omitted entirely. You worried and you hoped that your little talks might change her view. So far you had been (mildly) successful.

Taylor hummed and spooned herself a good portion. “I like coconut curry. I have it a lot after shows,”

“Good,” You smiled as the red bled up your cheeks towards your ears. “It’s one of my favorites during the season because it meets all of my macros and is filling,”

Taylor hummed again. “What’s the envelope on your counter?”

You rolled your eyes at the thought of the off-white envelope, with your address written in perfect cursive. “A wedding invitation,”

Taylor’s eyebrows pulled tightly together. “I thought they got engaged in March? They’re already setting a date?”

“We have to plan around tournaments, so they picked the only time everyone will be available,” You mumbled, chewing your too-large mouthful. “Spring of 2018”

“Still seems like a fast turnaround,” Taylor said thoughtfully.

You shrugged. “They’ve been together for like 10 years. Alex has probably been planning this for years. She can read minds, and she’s a control freak so she probably knew Kelley was going to propose as soon as Kelley started looking at rings,”

“Ah, I see,”

You fidgeted in your chair, your fork aimlessly scraping your plate. “Do you want to be my date?”

It nigged in the back of your mind that the two of you might not even be together in a year and a half, and that you were probably asking her to be your date way too far in advance.

“Unless you hate me by then,” You added, forcing a playful smirk across your lips.

She rolled her eyes at you, swallowing her bite. “I won’t hate you by then, and I would love to be your date,”

You nodded. “I’ll talk to Alex and Kelley about getting a plus one,”

Taylor hummed and took another bite, chewing slowly. “I also wanted to talk to you about maybe trying something new,”

You raised your eyebrow at her. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” She started. “When we filled out the limits sheet you mentioned that you didn’t like all touches, so I thought we could maybe walk through those boundaries, and I’ve never seen you naked, which is kinda criminal,”

“So? You want to what?” You asked, watching her carefully.

“Shower together,” She said, meeting your eyes. “This way it’s something we’ve done, just-“

“I’ll actually take my clothes off this time?” You asked, meeting her eyes.

“And you can show me where you’re comfortable being touched and where you’re not,” Taylor continued gently. “I think it might be a good exercise in intimacy without expectations,”

You nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Ok,”

“Ok,”

*****

Water cascaded down your body in ripples, rolling over the goosebumps that littered your skin. Your fingers tapped against your hips, as you tried to force yourself to relax.

“We don’t have to do this Y/n,” Taylor said from behind the shower curtain.

You thought that this would be… easier if you get into the water first. That it would ease the bubbling anxiety in your chest.

It didn’t. But you weren’t ready to give up yet. You wanted to trust her.

“No,” You said, your voice more shaky than you would have liked it to be. “It’s ok. You can get in,”

You turned towards the water, letting the spray hit your face, as you heard the distinct crinkle of the shower curtain.

You felt her warm presence behind you, though she didn’t reach out to touch you.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before you turned back to face her.

“I want to do this,” You mumbled, meeting her eyes, trying not to scan down her body. You appreciated that her blue orbs remained steadfastly locked with yours.

“As long as you’re sure,” Taylor said softly. “You can tell me to stop at any point, and we will. Red, yellow and green still apply,”

Your lip disappeared between your teeth and you nodded.

You understood the stoplight system that the two of you had discussed. Red for stop, yellow for slow down or discuss first and green for good. You swore you would try for her, so you would.

“Remember that I need a verbal?” Taylor asked you.

“Yes. I’m ok. Green,” You said, your voice shaking more than you wanted it to. “Just…”

You looked away from her, finding a spot on the wall above her head. “Just go slow,”

“Of course,” Taylor promised you. “We’ll go at your pace. Even if today we just stand there, that’s ok,”

You nodded again.

You didn’t like how… vulnerable you felt without your top on.

It was too close. Too intimate and that’s part of the reason you had never done this with anyone before.

But Taylor wasn’t just anyone.

You wanted to give Taylor this.

You closed your eyes and let out a long breath. It shook as it left your lungs, disappearing into the steam building between you.

You reached out slowly, catching her hands. “Let me show you where my boundaries are,”

You went to tug her hands forward, but she resisted.

“Can you look at me while we do this?” She asked, her voice gentle. “I want you to be present, here with me,”

It took you a very long second for you to open your eyes, and another for them to drag down her forehead and meet her blue.

She smiled softly at you. “Thank you,”

Your head bobbed briefly, and you squeezed her hands. It shouldn’t be this hard for you to let someone touch you.

The two of you stood there for several minutes before you gained the courage to pull her forward again. She went with you this time, letting you bring her hands to the hard lines of your stomach just below your belly button.

“Here is ok,” You said, trailing her fingers up the center of your abs to your diaphragm before you moved them out to your sides and back down to the original level.

“My whole back is ok too,” You murmured, feeling her nails dragging across your lower back, meeting at your spine.

Your eyes slipped closed at the feeling. At how you could feel the body heat rolling off of her because of how close she was to you.

“Color?” She asked, and you could feel the words on your lips.

Your eyes blinked open, meeting the fire burning in hers. “Green,”

“Good,” She said. “Stay with me, ok?”

“Ok,” You breathed back, as her fingers moved up your spine like she was counting each of them.

You did your best to remind yourself that it was her hands on you as they finally reached your shoulders. They outlined your collarbone, and her thumbs brushed against your neck.

It felt like a warm flame traveling from the point of her touch up to your cheeks, and down in your chest.

“Will you let me wash your hair?” She asked, and her thumb swiped around your cheek.

“Yeah,” You breathed out, making no move to grab your shampoo. You were afraid that if you’d turned, you would forget it was her.

Her head tilted to the side. “Color?”

“Green, right now,” You murmured, more red flooding into your cheeks. “I just… I need to be able to see you when your hands are on me. When we’re… like this,”

“Ok,” Taylor agreed easily like it wasn’t a big ask at all. “I’ll stay where you can see me,”

You nodded, swallowing hard again. “Maybe we just do this today,”

“That’s ok too,” Taylor hummed, her thumb running over your cheek to the sensitive skin behind your ear. “We’re doing this all at your pace,”

You swallowed hard again. “Thank you,”

Her lips tilted upwards. “Anything for you. I want you to enjoy our time together too. We’ll work up to the rest. My main concern is your comfort, and maintaining your boundaries. We’ll take it one step at a time,”

You could do that. You could do this. One step at a time.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #uswnt x reader #taylor swift imagine #taylor swift x reader #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine #13 eras of us

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reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

Text

Capturing the Queen

Summary: You are Alex's daughter, Spencer is a fan of the whole family.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, swimsuits, swimming, alcohol consumption, mild injury/hospitalization of Alex, you are the adoptive daughter, chess playing

Word count: 19.6k

a/n: live laugh love alex blake !! would be honored if she adopted me ,, she seems like she would be the coolest mom ,, also lowkey wanted her to have a chance at motherhood after you know...

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (f), protected PinV, fingering (f) nipple play (f&m), strip chess

In the softly lit hospital room, the steady beeping of the heart monitor played a continuous, albeit unsettling, rhythm. Spencer Reid sat beside Alex Blake's hospital bed, his hands folded tightly in his lap, his eyes tracing the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, a stark contrast to the usually composed genius. Every so often, he'd run a hand through his hair, a nervous tick that had become more pronounced under stress.

The door creaked open, and a young woman stepped in, her presence like a sudden burst of sunlight piercing through heavy clouds. Spencer looked up, his expression full of curiosity and concern. The woman's eyes, remarkably stunning, scanned the room before settling on Spencer with an inquisitive tilt of her head.

"Hi, you must be Spencer," you introduced yourself, your voice a comforting melody amidst the sterile echoes of the hospital. Spencer stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, his movements awkward in his urgency.

"Yes, I—I'm Spencer Reid. You're Alex's...?" he trailed off, not wanting to assume.

"Daughter," You finished for him with a gentle smile. "I was away for work, I just got back and came straight here to see how she's doing. So… how is she?"

Spencer's eyes shifted back to Alex, lying so still on the hospital bed. "She's stable now, but it was a close call," he admitted, the weight of the situation momentarily tightening his voice. "She saved two children from that unsub before—"

"Before she got hurt," You interjected, nodding slowly, your eyes itching with tears that you fought to keep at bay. "That sounds just like her. Always putting others first."

You both watched Alex, the silence between you both filled with shared worry and respect for the woman who had impacted your lives so profoundly. You moved closer, taking the seat Spencer had vacated, reaching out to gently touch your mom’s hand.

Spencer watched intently as the familial bond unfolded before him, the tender gestures between Alex and her daughter revealing a side of Alex he hadn't known. There was an unmistakable warmth in your interaction, a stark contrast to the clinical, often impersonal environment of the BAU.

"I wasn’t aware Alex had a daughter," he admitted, a sheepish tone coloring his confession as he brushed over his hair, a clear sign of his discomfort with the oversight.

"Ah, yes," you replied with a gentle nod, understanding his surprise. "That sounds like mom, never mixing business with her personal life." Your voice held a note of pride, acknowledging Alex's meticulous compartmentalization of her work and home life.

"I suppose that makes sense," Spencer responded, his voice thoughtful, reflecting his acceptance of Alex's privacy.

"I don’t take offense to it, it’s okay. You can relax," you reassured him, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth, trying to ease the tension you saw etched on his face.

Spencer let out a deep breath, more for show than necessity, his hand passing through his hair yet again in another rare display of vulnerability. "I’m sorry, I’m a little shaken up," he confessed, the ordeal of the day catching up to him now that the immediate danger had passed.

"I can imagine," you said, your voice softening with empathy. "Do you want to go home and rest? I can stay with her." Your offer was sincere, wanting to provide him some relief from the harrowing day.

"That would be great, thank you," Spencer accepted gratefully, relief visible in his eyes as he prepared to take your advice.

"My pleasure, have a nice rest, Spencer," you called out softly as he gathered his belongings, your voice carrying the warmth and assurance that he needed as he stepped out of the hospital room, leaving you to watch over Alex in the quiet of the night.

—

The morning light filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a gentle glow on the figures within. Alex Blake's eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing you seated by her side, a wave of relief washed over her face, transforming into a grateful smile.

"How was the lecture?" Alex asked with a hint of her usual humor, her voice still a bit groggy from the effects of the medication and the ordeal she had endured.

"A lot better than getting stabbed!" you teased, your tone light and playful, aiming to bring a little levity to the situation. "Do you need anything?" you added, shifting in your chair to give her your full attention.

"Definitely more drugs, this hurts like a bitch," Alex responded half-jokingly, grimacing slightly as she tried to adjust her position on the hospital bed.

"I'll fetch a nurse, maybe if you put on a nice face they'll give you the good stuff," you winked at her, standing up and stretching a bit before heading toward the door to find a nurse.

The relationship you shared with your mom was built on a foundation of deep mutual respect and love, interspersed with a healthy dose of humor that helped you both through tough times. As you walked out of the room to seek assistance, you reflected on how grateful you were to have such a strong and courageous woman as your mother.

As you navigated the quiet hospital corridors on your mission to procure some relief for your mother, you unexpectedly bumped into Spencer Reid. He was holding a stack of papers while walking, likely some research, but he looked up with a slight start when he saw you.

"Well hello, fancy seeing you here," you greeted, a light chuckle escaping your lips at the coincidence.

"Oh, hi. How is she?" Spencer asked, his concern genuine, his brow furrowing slightly as he adjusted his stance to face you more directly.

"Awake and asking for drugs. I don’t suppose you’re the kind of doctor who could administer those?" you joked, an amused sparkle in your eyes.

"No, most definitely not. But I can find one for you," Spencer replied promptly, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile at your playful comment.

"I won’t say no to that, thanks," you said, appreciative of his offer to help. With a nod, Spencer turned to leave, presumably in search of a medical doctor.

You returned to Alex’s room, a smile tugging at your lips as you recounted the encounter to her. "I ran into Spencer, and he’s finding a doctor for us," you informed her, watching as a knowing look passed over her features.

"So you met Spencer?" Alex’s voice held a hint of mischief, her eyes twinkling despite her discomfort.

"I did indeed, he is exactly as you described him," you confirmed, settling back into the chair beside her bed.

"Charmingly awkward and annoyingly intelligent?" she quipped, a faint laugh accompanying her words.

"From what I have observed, yes," you agreed, playing along with her characterization.

"You know… he's only got about five years on you," Alex added nonchalantly, but with a teasing tone that made you raise an eyebrow.

"That’s amazing, Alex, what’s cooking in your scary noggin?" you asked, half-joking but also genuinely curious about her sudden interest in the age difference.

"Nothing, my sweet pea, nothing at all," she responded, her expression feigning innocence which didn't fool you one bit.

"I don't believe you for a sec—" you started to say, but were interrupted as the door swung open.

The doctor walked in with Spencer in tow, cutting off your playful interrogation. Spencer gave a small wave, looking slightly embarrassed to be caught in the middle of your family moment, but also relieved to have found the help Alex needed. As the doctor approached the bed to discuss pain management, you exchanged a grateful glance with Spencer, feeling oddly reassured by his presence in this unsettling environment.

After the doctor had left, having administered the necessary medication and made some adjustments to Alex’s treatment plan, Spencer lingered in the room. His analytical mind shifted into high gear as he began to run through his own checklist to ensure that Alex was indeed okay.

He approached the bedside, his eyes scanning the various monitors displaying Alex’s vital signs. “Her heart rate seems stable, and her oxygen levels are good,” Spencer muttered more to himself than anyone else, his fingers hovering just above the data without touching anything.

Turning to Alex, Spencer’s demeanor softened. “How are you feeling now? Any dizziness, nausea, or excessive pain?” he inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern. He knew the importance of patient self-reporting in assessing pain management efficacy.

Alex managed a small smile, appreciating Spencer's thoroughness. “I’m okay, thanks to you and your timely intervention,” she said, her voice still weak but steadier than before.

Spencer nodded, satisfied with her response but still visibly concerned. He then pulled up a chair, positioning himself where he could keep an eye on both Alex and the door. “I’ll stay for a bit, just to make sure everything settles well. I read some recent studies on post-operative care that suggest monitoring for at least an hour after new medication is administered can drastically reduce complications,” he explained, crossing his arms as he settled into the role of a temporary guardian.

“You always were the diligent one,” Alex quipped, her tone light despite her condition. Her eyes met yours, a spark of mischief in them suggesting she enjoyed seeing this side of Spencer, which she so fondly teased him about.

Spencer, slightly embarrassed by the praise, shifted uncomfortably but smiled. He was about to comment back before you spoke up from your chair.

"You were right in your assessment, Mom, annoyingly intelligent," you teased, glancing over at Spencer, whose face fell into an expression of mock offense at the jest.

"What?" he managed, his voice laced with feigned indignity, which only added to the humor of the moment.

"Oh shush, you," Alex intervened gently, her voice carrying a hint of laughter despite her condition. She turned to Spencer, adding, "You’ll have to excuse her rude behavior; she’s adopted, didn't get the nice gene I carry."

"Wow, Alex—" Spencer started, his tone a blend of amusement and shock, but he was cut off by your cackle.

"She’s not even kidding! I was adopted!" you exclaimed, joining in the lighthearted teasing, your laughter filling the room and lightening the atmosphere.

Spencer looked from you to Alex and back again, his initial surprise morphing into delight at the easy flow of humor and conversation. A genuine smile spread across his face as he shook his head, his earlier embarrassment forgotten in the face of such familial warmth.

The playful banter continued to fill the room, bringing lightness and smiles to an otherwise dreary hospital setting. Spencer listened, clearly enjoying the spirited exchange between you and Alex.

"So she's probably not as good at crosswords as you, huh?" Spencer teased, joining in the fun while glancing between you and Alex.

"She wishes! I kicked her ass last time we went toe to toe," you declared with a proud grin, challenging your mother's claim.

"Did not!" Alex retorted, her competitive spirit flaring up despite her condition.

"Did too!" you shot back, both of you unable to keep straight faces.

"Well, Spencer could take you any day," Alex added, throwing a sly look towards Spencer, playfully dragging him into the challenge.

Spencer's reaction was immediate; he sputtered, caught off guard by the double entendre embedded in Alex's statement. His cheeks flushed a faint pink as he quickly tried to regain his composure, fumbling for a response. "I—uh, well, I do enjoy a good crossword," he managed to say, his voice cracking slightly under the unexpected spotlight.

—

The hospital discharge process on that Thursday was a mixture of relief and anxious anticipation. As you assisted your mom with her belongings and helped her into the car, the drive back home was filled with plans and promises—chief among them, your commitment to stay with her until your dad could return from his overseas work. Living independently in Lynchburg had given you a sense of freedom being three hours away, but in times like these, family needed to come first.

Alex, stubborn as stubborn gets, was set on returning to work at the BAU by Monday. Her determination was palpable, a testament to her indomitable spirit. "I'm fine, really. Sitting at home isn't going to make me any better. I need to be doing something," she insisted, brushing off your concerns with a stubborn tilt of her head that left no room for argument. Her resolve was as firm as ever, as unyielding as a mule.

Come Monday morning, the atmosphere at the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit was one of cautious celebration. Team members exchanged smiles and warm greetings as Alex walked in, her stride confident but perhaps a tad slower than usual. Each welcome was tinged with a touch of concern, reflecting the team's collective relief and residual worry.

Hotch was the epitome of a caring yet cautious leader. Approaching Alex, he offered a sincere smile that reached his eyes—a rare occurrence that didn’t go unnoticed. "Welcome back, Alex. Are you sure you’re ready to be back?" His tone was gentle yet firm, the underlying note of authority making it clear that her well-being was his priority.

Alex, understanding the weight of his concern, nodded firmly. "I appreciate it, Hotch, but I’m ready. Sitting around isn't really my style, you know that," she replied, her voice carrying that familiar steely resolve.

Hotch studied her for a moment longer, assessing her demeanor and the subtle signs of her recovery. Finally, he gave a slight nod, the gesture conveying both his approval and his continued vigilance. "Alright, but we’re keeping the workload light for now. Let’s ease back into it," he decided, setting parameters that he hoped would safeguard her health without stifling her need to contribute.

—

In the quietude of the BAU breakroom, the gentle hum of the coffee machine served as a backdrop for a seemingly casual conversation between Spencer Reid and Alex Blake. Both were in the process of making coffee, an activity that allowed them a few moments of respite from the demands of their jobs.

“How are you doing?” Spencer inquired, pouring hot water into his mug, his tone carrying genuine concern as he glanced over at Alex.

“Oh, you know me, I’m fine. Needed to get back to work or I’d go crazy,” Alex responded with a wry smile, her hands expertly handling her coffee with practiced ease.

“Is it hard having your daughter stay with you?” Spencer asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he added a spoonful of sugar to his drink.

“What? Oh my goodness, no! That girl is the light of my life; she is the only person who can keep me sane aside from my husband,” Alex gushed, her face lighting up at the mention of you. Her affection and pride were unmistakable.

“She seems nice, funny,” Spencer noted, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he recalled the brief interactions he’d had with you.

“Yeah? Is that all you liked about her?” Alex prodded, a mischievous glint appearing in her eyes as she took a sip of her coffee.

“I mean, she is clearly intelligent. I appreciate that in a person,” Spencer added, running his fingers through his hair, a sign that he was thinking more deeply about the question than he initially let on.

“Anything else?” Alex continued, her tone teasing yet probing, as if trying to unearth something Spencer hadn’t yet admitted to himself.

“What are you getting at?” Spencer finally asked, a touch of defensiveness creeping into his voice, his eyebrows knitting together in mild confusion.

“Nothing… nothing,” Alex replied, her voice light, though her eyes danced with unspoken implications. She turned away, focusing on finishing her coffee, allowing the question to linger in the air between them.

They continued to tend to their coffees in silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. Just as they were finishing up, and Alex was about to walk back to the bullpen, she threw a comment over her shoulder to Spencer, “She’s single, you know?” The words hung in the air as she left, leaving Spencer slightly flustered and more thoughtful than before.

Alex’s parting remark added a new layer to Spencer’s contemplation as he stood in the breakroom, stirring his coffee slowly. The possibility of something more than professional respect or friendship with you seemed to be gently placed in front of him, courtesy of Alex’s subtle matchmaking. Whether or not he would explore that possibility remained an open question as he resumed his day, the idea quietly percolating alongside his morning coffee.

—

In the BAU office on Friday afternoon, the topic of Alex Blake's previously undisclosed daughter became the center of attention. Penelope Garcia, always vibrant and inquisitively affectionate, approached Alex with her characteristic flair.

"Alex Blake! Why am I just now finding out you have a daughter?" Penelope bombarded her in a friendly manner, her curiosity piqued after Spencer had let slip that you had visited the hospital.

"Because I didn’t tell you, Spencer did?" Alex retorted with a playful raise of her eyebrows, a slight smile touching her lips as she turned the tables back on Penelope.

"He did, and thank God for him. Can we meet her?" Penelope pressed, her enthusiasm undimmed.

"I don’t see why not, she’s back home in Lynchburg though," Alex explained, her tone suggesting she was open to the idea, but practical considerations of distance and timing were not lost on her.

"Reid, how far away is that?" Penelope quickly directed her question to Spencer, who was nearby.

"Three hours by car, give or take due to traffic and time of year," Spencer calculated swiftly.

"So she could come back for a weekend?" Penelope continued, already planning in her mind.

"I suppose. I will float her the idea. She is a professor, though, so no promises she will be free anytime soon," Alex tempered expectations, mindful of your professional commitments. Little did they know, you had taken the term off to focus on research, a detail Alex was careful not to disclose prematurely.

Suddenly, Derek Morgan chimed in, having caught the tail end of the conversation. "Blake, you got a daughter?" His interest was as quick as his smile.

"Mhm, I do," Alex affirmed, not missing a beat.

"How old is she? Is she cute?" Derek's questions rolled off his tongue before he could censor them, typical of his straightforward charm.

"Derek Morgan!" Penelope chided, her tone playful yet reproving.

"26-years-old. She is," Alex laughed, not at all offended, appreciating the lighter mood her team brought to the end of a challenging week.

Derek's suggestion to bring you down for a weekend and take you to a bar sparked a lively debate among the BAU team members. The atmosphere was charged with the kind of camaraderie that often led to spontaneous planning sessions for team outings.

JJ, overhearing the spirited discussion, decided to offer a different twist, stepping into the conversation with a more relaxed suggestion. "Or we could finally get Rossi to let us use his pool," she interjected, knowing that a gathering at Rossi's house could offer a more intimate and relaxed setting for everyone.

"Yes!! I love that, that is what we will do," Penelope declared with a flourish, her enthusiasm sealing the decision with finality. Her eyes sparkled with the anticipation of organizing another memorable team gathering, this time perhaps with a new face among them.

The idea of a pool party at Rossi's house quickly gained unanimous approval. The team envisioned a laid-back afternoon filled with laughter, good food, and the chance to unwind together outside the usual high-stakes environment of their daily work.

Alex, watching the exchange, felt pride and slight apprehension. Introducing you to her colleagues in such a casual setting was a big step, but she wanted to trust her team implicitly. She knew that once the plans were set, she would have to give you a call to discuss the upcoming weekend, hoping you'd be as excited about the prospect as everyone seemed to be.

—

Alex reached for her phone and dialed your number. As the phone rang, she found herself hoping you'd share the team's enthusiasm for a weekend visit.

"Hey," Alex began as soon as you picked up, her voice warm and inviting. "I have something potentially fun to propose to you. The team was talking, and they really want to meet you. How would you feel about coming down for a weekend? They're planning a little get-together at Rossi's place—he has a pool, and it's going to be quite the relaxed day."

You responded with excitement, your voice brightening up the call. "That sounds amazing, Mom! I'd love to come down and meet everyone. It'll be nice to see where you work and meet your colleagues."

Alex's heart swelled with joy at your enthusiasm. "Great! They're all excited to meet you, too. Penelope is already planning what she calls 'the ultimate pool party,' so it should be a lot of fun. We can sort out the details later, but I'm just really glad you're up for it."

"Absolutely, I wouldn't miss it for the world," you assured her, the smile in your voice unmistakable. "Just let me know the dates, and I'll make sure I'm there."

"Will do," Alex confirmed, her relief and happiness evident. "I'll send you the details once we finalize everything. Love you and can't wait to see you!"

"Love you too, Mom. See you soon!" you replied, already looking forward to the weekend.

Hanging up the phone, Alex felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Your willingness to engage with her world at the BAU brought her immense comfort and pride. She couldn't wait for the weekend, eager to bridge her two worlds—one of work and one of family—into a single, joyful occasion.

—

As the car rolled through the scenic route leading to Rossi's expansive property, the windows were down, allowing the breeze to carry in the scents and sounds of a perfect weekend. You glanced over at Alex, who was focusing on the road but with a relaxed smile playing on her lips.

"So, is the whole team going to be there today?" you asked casually, your curiosity partly piqued by the descriptions of the various team members you had heard so much about, but especially wanting to see Spencer.

Alex caught the subtle undertone in your question and decided to have a little fun with it. She knew from Spencer's embarrassed reactions and your shy inquiries that there might be a budding interest there. "Oh, the whole team? Well, let's see," she began, her voice teasingly slow. "There's Rossi, of course, it’s his house after all. Derek, Aaron, JJ... they wouldn’t miss it. Penelope has been talking about this non-stop, so yes, she’ll be there with bells on."

You waited, noting she hadn't mentioned Spencer yet, and raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.

"And then there might be one or two others, you know, the quiet types who prefer to keep a low profile but somehow always end up being the life of the party," Alex continued, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she finally glanced your way.

"You’re being vague, Mom," you pointed out with a laugh, not missing her playful tone.

"Am I? Maybe a little," Alex conceded with a laugh. "Okay, okay, Spencer will be there. He’s actually quite looking forward to it. Mentioned something about bringing a special book for poolside reading—only Spencer would bring a book to a pool party."

You smiled, feeling a flutter of anticipation at the mention of Spencer's name and his quirky habits. "Sounds like it’s going to be a great day," you said, your voice light and hopeful.

"Absolutely," Alex confirmed, turning into the driveway that led up to Rossi’s beautifully landscaped front yard.

The conversation eased any lingering nerves as the car pulled to a stop. Today wasn't just about meeting the team; it was about fun, relaxation, and perhaps, a little bit of new friendship blossoming under the warm sun by Rossi's pool.

—

As you followed Alex through Rossi's ornate gate, the backyard unfolded into a whimsical mermaid-themed paradise, courtesy of Penelope's vibrant and imaginative decorating style. Streamers in various shades of blue and green fluttered in the breeze, and inflatable sea creatures bobbed in the pool, creating a playful and inviting atmosphere.

"Wait until you see this," Alex said with a chuckle, leading you towards the bar where Savannah and Derek were busy concocting colorful drinks. Both looked up as you approached, their faces lighting up with welcoming smiles.

"Ah, the guest of honor!" Derek exclaimed, his voice warm and teasing. He offered you a mock bow, his charming grin infectious. "Welcome to Rossi’s mermaid lagoon. Can I interest you in a 'Siren’s Call' or perhaps a 'Mermaid’s Kiss'?" he asked, gesturing to the array of drinks with a flourish.

Savannah, chimed in with a playful wink. "Ignore him, he’s been trying to perfect that drink just to use the name as a pickup line all afternoon." She extended her hand in greeting. "I’m Savannah, Derek’s girlfriend. It’s so nice to meet you."

You couldn’t help but laugh, immediately put at ease by their friendly banter. "It’s great to meet you both, too. I’ll start with a 'Mermaid’s Kiss', it sounds like it could be the start of a fun story," you replied, playing along with the theme and their light-hearted demeanor.

Derek quickly set to work, mixing the drink with practiced ease. "Only the best for Alex’s star," he said as he handed you the colorful concoction, garnished with a small umbrella and a twist of lime.

Savannah leaned in slightly, her tone conspiratorial. "So, how are you liking teaching? Derek tells me you’re a professor."

Alex watched with a mixture of pride and amusement as you interacted with her colleague and his beau. It was clear that Savannah and Derek were making a special effort to make you feel welcomed and included, their playful flirting just part of the friendly and open nature of the team.

David Rossi, the gracious host and impeccable in his role, approached the bar with a warm, inviting smile. He was dressed casually yet with an unmistakable elegance that suited his character. Upon seeing you, his eyes lit up with genuine interest, and he extended a hand for a firm, welcoming handshake.

"Ah, you must be Alex's daughter! I've heard so many wonderful things," Rossi greeted you enthusiastically. His demeanor was that of someone who took great pleasure in hosting and ensuring everyone felt at ease.

"It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Rossi," you replied, appreciating the warmth of his welcome.

"Please, call me Dave," he insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And since I'm the one who has the honor of this fine establishment," he gestured grandly to his beautifully decorated backyard, "let me take you on a tour and introduce you to everyone else."

Rossi's offer was punctuated with a charming smile, and he waited courteously for your acceptance.

"That sounds wonderful, thank you," you responded, eager to meet the rest of the team under such friendly auspices.

As you followed Rossi through the vibrant, sunlit backyard, his strides confident yet unhurried, you approached where JJ and Penelope were seated, their laughter carrying over the gentle splash of pool water. Their conversation paused as they looked up, noticing Rossi's approach with a new face beside him.

"JJ, Penelope, I'd like you to meet a very special guest today—Alex's daughter," Rossi introduced you with a warm gesture towards you. His voice held a note of pride, as if he was introducing someone of importance, which in his eyes, you certainly were.

JJ stood up immediately, her expression open and welcoming, "It’s so wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you." Her greeting was accompanied by a friendly hug, which felt comforting and genuine.

Penelope, the vibrant soul of the team, beamed at you from her seat, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement. "Oh my gosh, it's finally so nice to put a face to the name!" she exclaimed, rising to give you a soft squeeze. "We've got to catch you up on all our little secrets," she added with a wink, implying the gossip they were indulging in just moments before.

Rossi chuckled softly, clearly amused by Penelope's unabashed enthusiasm. "Be careful, Penelope might recruit you into her next scheme of fun," he joked, his tone light and teasing.

The interaction felt incredibly warm, and the ease with which both JJ and Penelope included you in their circle spoke volumes about the team's camaraderie. They quickly resumed their lighthearted gossip, seamlessly weaving you into the conversation.

"So, who's in the hot seat today in the world of celebrity mishaps?" you asked, playing along with Penelope's earlier hint.

Penelope clapped her hands delightedly, thrilled at your engagement. "Oh, you are going to love this one," she started, diving into a colorful recounting of the latest Hollywood faux pas, with JJ chiming in with her observations.

As Rossi watched the exchange, a content smile played on his lips. It was clear to him—and soon to you—that the BAU team was not just a group of colleagues but a family, one that was now opening its arms to you. His role as the host had subtly shifted to that of an observer, pleased with the seamless integration of new and old members of his extended family.

Rossi continued guiding you through the festive backyard, his next destination being where Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid were situated. They had positioned themselves slightly apart from the more boisterous groups, each enjoying the serene atmosphere in their own way—Aaron relaxed with a slight smile on his face, eyes closed, and Spencer absorbed in a book, his typical form of relaxation.

As you approached, Rossi announced, "Aaron, Spencer, look who's here to join us."

Hotch opened his eyes and sat up straighter, offering a welcoming nod and a professional, "It's nice to meet you." His greeting, though brief, was filled with the quiet respect he accorded all his team's family members.

Spencer, on the other hand, reacted with a more visible shift in demeanor. He looked up from his book, and upon seeing you, his face lit up with an eager smile, quickly tempered by a hint of nervousness as he stood to greet you. His movements were a bit awkward, typical of Spencer when he was flustered or overly excited.

"Hi, it's really good to see you again," Spencer said, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual. He extended his hand for a handshake, then seemed to reconsider, pulling it back slightly before committing to the gesture.

As you greeted him, Spencer's eyes briefly met yours, but then, seemingly overwhelmed, darted away. He glanced at the book in his hand as if considering whether to explain what he was reading, then back at your face, and finally, his gaze drifted—albeit quickly and almost guiltily—over your attire. Your cover-up was sheer, hinting at the swimsuit beneath, and despite his best efforts, Spencer found it challenging to maintain steady eye contact, his cheeks coloring slightly.

Rossi, noticing Spencer's discomfort, chuckled softly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Spencer here was just reading about some of the finer points of historical linguistics. Weren't you, Reid?" he teased, trying to ease the tension and bring Spencer back into his element.

Spencer nodded, grateful for the diversion. "Yes, um, it's quite fascinating how language evolves over time and—" He caught himself, realizing he might be diving too deep too quickly, and offered a more restrained smile. "But that's probably not very interesting poolside talk."

Aaron, ever the observer, added with a smile, "Spencer's always ready to teach us something new."

“I’m always eager to learn something new,” you said with a flirty undertone, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you took in Spencer’s outfit.

He blinked, slightly startled by your boldness but clearly flattered, his cheeks taking on a faint pink hue. "Well, I suppose I have plenty of interesting facts I could share," he replied, attempting to match your playful energy, though there was a hint of nervousness in his tone.

You stood next to him, the conversation flowing effortlessly amidst the summer ambiance. "I like this look on you, by the way," you commented, gesturing to his Hawaiian shirt with a smile. "It suits you."

Spencer chuckled, adjusting his sunglasses as he responded, "Thanks. You look great too, very summery."

The mutual compliments created a relaxed ease between you, and you noticed his eyes lingering on you with admiration and bashfulness. Despite his usual analytical nature, the hint of awkwardness only added to his charm.

Rossi, observing the exchange with a knowing smile, eventually excused himself, leaving you both to enjoy the peacefulness of the afternoon and the opportunity to get to know each other better. With the sound of the pool splashing in the background and the distant hum of music playing, the day felt full of promise and potential.

“I think I’ll go get another drink and put my feet in the water, do you want to join me?”, you offered to Spencer as your conversation fizzled naturally.

Spencer hesitated, his reservation momentarily overriding the tempting offer. "Um, maybe. I might meet you in a little," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty but also a hint of hopefulness that he might indeed muster the courage to join you soon.

As you walked away, the gentle sway of your cover-up catching the light breeze, Aaron Hotchner watched the interaction with a small, knowing grin. He turned to Spencer, who was clearly lost in thought, and remarked casually yet pointedly, "You two seem to get along nicely."

Spencer's response was quick, both defensive and embarrassed. "Leave it alone, Hotch," he muttered, trying to mask his flustered state with a brief glance back at the book he had barely read since you arrived.

"I didn’t say anything," Aaron replied, his voice smooth and teasing, a rare break from his usually stoic demeanor.

"You didn’t have to," Spencer retorted, his tone softening, acknowledging the implicit understanding that his feelings—or at least his interest—were quite transparent to his perceptive boss.

Aaron chuckled softly, allowing the conversation to drop, respecting Spencer's privacy. He knew well the challenges his team faced in balancing personal lives with the demands of their intense careers. Observing Spencer's interaction with you brought a rare paternal sense of pride; he was always quietly supportive of his team's happiness outside the stressful confines of their work.

Spencer, left to his thoughts, watched you from a distance as you mingled effortlessly with the others, his mind racing with possibilities and the fear of stepping out of his comfort zone. The gentle nudge from Hotch was both unnerving and reassuring.

As Spencer sat absorbed in his internal debate, his attention was unwittingly captured by your movements. You, perhaps feeling the heat more intensely, decided it was time to embrace the full spirit of the pool party. With a graceful motion that seemed as natural as the breeze around, you slipped off your sheer cover-up, revealing the vibrant swimsuit underneath.

The sight momentarily stunned Spencer, his usually sharp mind faltering as he took in the way the fabric of your swimsuit embraced your figure. It was a simple moment, one often repeated in such settings, but for Spencer, it was as if time had slowed down. The pattern and the cut of the swimsuit accentuated your curves beautifully, catching him completely off guard.

As you turned to sit at the pool's edge, your back to him, Spencer's face flushed a deeper shade of red. He was an adult, well-versed in the biological responses of the human body, yet found himself embarrassingly unprepared to deal with his own reaction. His swimsuit, betraying his attempt to remain composed, began to feel uncomfortably tight.

Spencer hastily pulled a towel over his lap, his eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed his discomfort. He felt a mix of adolescent awkwardness and adult embarrassment, his mind racing with both scientific explanations for his physiological reactions and a desperate wish for them to cease.

He took a deep breath, trying to refocus on the book in his hands, but the words blurred before his eyes. With a slight shake of his head, he chided himself silently for his lack of control. It was just a swimsuit at a pool party, after all—perfectly normal. Yet, the simplicity of the situation did little to calm his racing heart or cool his flushed cheeks.

Spencer realized that his feelings were perhaps more complicated than he had initially allowed himself to acknowledge. The book now forgotten, he shifted his focus back to the sounds of the pool party, using the laughter and splashing as a lifeline to pull himself back to the reality of the festive day around him. He needed a moment to collect himself, to restore the balance between his intellectual mind and the surprisingly strong emotional responses elicited by your mere presence.

Derek's voice cut through Spencer's thoughts, a lifeline thrown with impeccable timing. "Yo Reid, come join us!" he hollered, waving from the pool where he and others were splashing around, clearly enjoying the perfect balance of sun and water.

"Coming!" Spencer's response came out higher-pitched than he intended, a squeak that betrayed his nervous energy. He set his book down, decisively pushing aside his hesitation as he stood to remove his shirt. The action was simple, revealing the lean, wiry frame he usually kept hidden beneath layers of button-ups and cardigans.

As you watched Spencer join the festivities, you couldn't help but appreciate the view. His torso, though not heavily muscled, was toned and fit. A small patch of hair led intriguingly into his trunks, adding a surprisingly human detail to the brilliant mind you knew him to be.

Caught up in the moment, you didn't realize your gaze had lingered a bit too long until you caught your mom's eye. Alex, quite observant, gave you a teasing look, wiggling her eyebrows in a silent commentary on your obvious interest. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, and you playfully flipped her off, which only made her chuckle softly.

Spencer, who was in the process of applying sunscreen, caught the tail end of this exchange. He looked from you to Alex, his expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Alex, maintaining her role as both mother and subtle matchmaker, simply winked at him, a silent endorsement of the budding interest she witnessed.

Spencer, now shirtless and a little more exposed than he usually allowed himself to be, took a deep breath and managed a shy smile. He made his way to the pool's edge, his initial embarrassment fading into a quiet resolve to enjoy the day fully—not just as Dr. Reid, but as Spencer.

As Spencer made his way into the water, Derek's voice boomed across the pool area, filled with his typical teasing bravado. "Woo-hoo! Pretty boy in the pool!" he cheered, clapping his hands in mock celebration, his wide smile indicating his pleasure at getting Spencer to join the fun.

Spencer, now somewhat accustomed to Derek's ways, rolled his eyes good-naturedly and shot back, "Keep it down, Morgan, or I'll start sharing all your college stories." His voice carried a light threat, but the grin on his face showed he was in the spirit of the jest.

Savannah, floating nearby on an inflatable raft, laughed and joined in the banter. "Oh, I want to hear those stories, Spencer!" she called out, her tone playful. "Especially the ones Derek never tells."

Derek waggled a finger at both Spencer and Savannah. "Traitors, the both of you," he joked, splashing water their way, which only incited more laughter.

You, watching the exchange from the edge where you'd just dipped your feet into the cool water, couldn't help but laugh at their antics. "Don’t let him bully you, Spencer. You have full immunity here!" you chimed in, giving Spencer an encouraging nod.

Spencer, feeling buoyed by the support, pretended to ponder your words. "Hmm, full immunity? This could be interesting," he mused aloud, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, Derek, how about we start with the story of the mascot costume and the dean’s car?"

Derek’s laughter boomed louder, and he splashed towards Spencer, who quickly retaliated, and soon a playful water fight ensued. Savannah cheered them on, while you clapped, thoroughly enjoying the light-hearted energy.

As the splashing settled, Derek wrapped an arm around Savannah, pulling her close with a wet but warm embrace. "Alright, alright, no more secrets today," he conceded, still laughing. "Pretty boy gets a pass—for now."

The afternoon sun shone brightly over the scene, casting a sparkling sheen on the water and highlighting the smiles on everyone’s faces.

Derek's voice carried across the water, teasing yet inviting, as he called out to you, "Hey, mini Blake, why don't you take the plunge and actually join us?" His playful challenge echoed around the pool, drawing chuckles from the others.

You glanced around, feeling the friendly eyes of the group on you, including Spencer's encouraging smile. With a spirited laugh, you stood up from your spot at the pool's edge, deciding to respond to Derek's challenge with equal gusto.

"Alright, you asked for it!" you declared. With a running start to gather momentum, you sprinted a few steps and executed a graceful cannonball into the pool, causing a splash that drenched Derek and a few others nearby.

As you surfaced, wiping water from your face, you were met with applause and more laughter. "Nice entrance!" Spencer commented, clearly impressed by your bold move.

Derek splashed water towards you, still grinning. "That's the spirit! Now it's a real party!" he exclaimed, his tone boisterous.

As the fun and games continued between Derek and Savannah, now joined by JJ and Penelope, you and Spencer found yourselves swimming towards the edge of the pool to take a quieter break. You both rested your arms on the ledge, the water lapping gently around you. The ambiance of the party—lively and loud in the background—created a sort of intimate bubble for the two of you to chat away from the crowd.

Spencer, who was usually more reserved, seemed to relax as the conversation between you flowed easily. He laughed softly at a joke you made, his eyes lighting up with genuine amusement. However, as he became more comfortable, he found his gaze inadvertently drifting. Despite his best intentions, Spencer couldn't help but notice how the water accentuated your figure, particularly how your swimsuit clung to your curves. His eyes, almost of their own accord, kept flicking towards your chest before he would catch himself and hurriedly look away, cheeks tinged with a flush of embarrassment.

Noticing his discomfort, you decided to steer the conversation to a safer topic, perhaps something academic or related to a shared interest, to put him at ease. "So, Spencer, you mentioned a book you were reading earlier? What's it about?" you asked, giving him an opening to divert his attention to more familiar ground.

Spencer seemed grateful for the change in topic, quickly seizing the opportunity to talk about something he was comfortable with. "Oh, yes, it's actually quite fascinating," he began, his enthusiasm bubbling as he delved into a description of the book. It was a historical analysis of cryptology used during the Cold War—a subject that captivated him. As he spoke, his hands animatedly moved, illustrating the complexities of code-breaking and espionage.

As the conversation between you and Spencer continued to flow, light and engaging, you noticed that despite his initial efforts to focus on the intellectual topics at hand, his gaze occasionally wandered back down. Deciding to address it with a touch of humor to keep the atmosphere relaxed and flirty, you gave him a playful smile.

"Spencer, do I have something on my swimsuit? You keep looking down," you teased, your tone light but with a teasing undertone, trying to make light of his nervous glances.

Caught in the act, Spencer's face turned a deeper shade of red, and he stammered for a moment, searching for the right words. "Oh, uh, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—I mean, I wasn't..." he trailed off, clearly flustered but also trying not to seem rude or inappropriate.

Realizing he was genuinely embarrassed, you laughed softly, aiming to ease his discomfort. "It's okay, Spencer. I'm just teasing you. But if you keep looking, you might owe me a compliment or two to make up for it," you suggested, your smile widening, giving him a clear signal that you weren't offended but rather amused by his bashfulness.

Spencer's relief was clear as he managed a small, shy smile in return. "Well, in that case," he began, taking a moment to compose himself, "I think you look... really beautiful today. The sunlight and the water just... I mean, you looked beautiful last time too, but today it's just more, I guess."

Your heart warmed at his earnest compliment, and you could tell by his expression that he meant every word, even if it was delivered with a touch of Spencer's typical awkward charm. "Thank you, Spencer. That's very sweet of you to say," you responded, your voice softening, appreciative of his sincerity.

The tension dissolved, replaced by a newfound comfort. You both continued chatting, the conversation now sprinkled with more shared laughs and less hesitation. As the pool party carried on around you, your interaction became a memorable highlight of the day.

—

As the afternoon sun began to wane, casting long shadows over the pool area, Rossi decided it was the perfect moment to transition from water activities to a more laid-back dining experience. He moved towards the grill, a practiced hand at hosting, and began to fire it up, signaling a shift in the day's activities.

"Alright, everyone, let's give the pool a break and gather around for some good food!" Rossi announced, his voice carrying over the chatter and splashes. His call was met with enthusiastic responses, as the guests, including you and Spencer, began to make your way toward the designated dining area, where tables were set up under a string of lights that flickered softly in the evening air.

The smell of grilling food filled the air, a blend of spices and smoke that promised a delicious meal. As people settled around the tables, you found yourself sitting next to Spencer, the earlier poolside interaction having naturally drawn the two of you closer.

With plates filled with grilled delights—vegetables charred to perfection, juicy steaks, and flavorful chicken—the conversation flowed freely. You and Spencer, now more comfortable with each other, delved into topics that revealed more about your personalities and backgrounds.

"So, what got you interested in your field of work?" you asked Spencer, genuinely curious about what drove his passion for his often intense and challenging job.

Spencer, appreciative of the opportunity to share more about his work in a casual setting, responded thoughtfully. "I've always been fascinated by the workings of the human mind, the how and why people do what they do. It's like solving a puzzle, but every piece is a human action or decision," he explained, his eyes lighting up with the excitement of sharing his passion.

"And what about you? Alex might have mentioned you were doing some research this term. What's it about?" Spencer turned the question around, showing his interest in your pursuits.

You shared your research focus, explaining the complexities of your study in a way that made it accessible yet intriguing. "It's about the intersection of technology and human interaction. How digital spaces shape our perceptions and relationships," you explained, watching his reaction closely.

"That sounds incredibly relevant, especially considering how much of our lives are intertwined with technology now," Spencer noted, his response thoughtful and encouraging.

As the meal progressed, the ambiance around the tables was warm and inviting, with laughter and stories exchanged freely. Rossi, moving between groups, ensured everyone had what they needed, his hosting skills making the evening seem effortless.

After the plates cleared and everyone settled into a comfortable lull, full and content, Rossi leaned back in his chair with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, nothing brings a team together quite like sharing war stories—and I'm not just talking about the cases we've solved. How about we go around and share some of our most memorable—or better yet, embarrassing—field moments? I'll start."

The group perked up, eager to partake in the storytelling. Rossi recounted a tale from his early days in the FBI, involving a mistaken identity, a runaway dog, and a mud pit that left him looking less than dignified at a critical moment. The story drew hearty laughs and set a jovial tone.

Encouraged by Rossi's self-deprecating humor, Hotch followed with his own story, sharing a rare glimpse into his less stoic side with a tale about a botched undercover operation that involved an accidentally activated car alarm during a stakeout.

The mood lightened, and one by one, team members chimed in with their own stories. When it was Spencer's turn, he hesitated for a moment, his natural shyness creeping in. But encouraged by the laughter and the supportive atmosphere, he began to share.

"So, there was this one time I was sent to collect evidence from a very cluttered antique shop," Spencer started, his voice holding amusement and embarrassment. "I was navigating through aisles crammed with delicate items, and I accidentally bumped into a shelf."

You leaned in, intrigued, as Spencer continued, "Everything happened in slow motion. I tried to catch one falling vase, which led me to knock over another, and it ended up being a disastrous domino effect of antiques crashing around me. I was mortified, especially when the shop owner came running."

The table erupted in laughter, not at Spencer's expense but in shared sympathy for the awkward situation. Spencer's face was a shade of red, but he was smiling, relieved to have shared the story and found humor in the reflection.

"Needless to say," Spencer concluded, "I learned a valuable lesson in spatial awareness that day, and I think I single-handedly funded the shop's insurance claim for the next year."

Your laughter mingled with the others, and you found yourself admiring Spencer's willingness to share such a humbling moment. It showcased his endearing vulnerability and his capacity to laugh at himself—a side of him that wasn't always apparent in the seriousness of his work.

—

As the evening began to wind down, with the laughter and conversations tapering into more subdued exchanges, Spencer found himself gently cornered by Alex, her expression earnest and somewhat conspiratorial. Under the soft glow of the garden lights, Alex's face was both motherly and determined.

"Are you going to do it?" she asked, her tone direct yet encouraging.

Spencer, caught off guard, roused his hair nervously. "Do what?" he responded, feigning confusion though he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what Alex was referring to.

"Ask her out," Alex clarified, her gaze piercing as she studied Spencer's apprehensive demeanor.

"Alex… she's your daughter," Spencer replied, the words tinged with both respect and hesitation, as if that fact alone was a significant barrier.

"And?" Alex countered, undeterred. "I'm giving you my permission and encouragement." Her voice was soft but firm, a clear indication she had considered this conversation beforehand.

"She lives three hours away," Spencer pointed out, trying to find rational reasons to temper what he feared was a growing interest on his part, one he wasn't sure how to navigate.

"You both have cars," Alex retorted quickly, almost as if she had anticipated every excuse he might offer.

"We travel a lot," Spencer added, his tone reflecting the logistical complications of his job.

"So does she," Alex responded smoothly, her confidence unshaken.

"Why are you so adamant this happens?" Spencer finally asked, his frustration mingling with curiosity. He was typically analytical, preferring to understand the variables in any equation, and Alex's push was a variable he hadn't expected.

"Why are you so adamant that it doesn’t?" Alex shot back, her question sharp and to the point. She paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Spencer, I know my daughter, and I know the kind of person who could make her happy. You're a good man, and regardless of the logistics, I think you could make each other very happy. Don't let fear of a few road trips get in the way of something that could be wonderful."

Her words, spoken with a mix of motherly insight and friendly advice, gave Spencer pause. He looked over to where you were laughing softly with Derek and Penelope, the warm light casting a glow around you. Something in his chest tightened with hope and hesitation.

Alex placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch reassuring. "Think about it, Spencer. Life’s too short for what-ifs."

As Alex walked away, leaving Spencer to his thoughts, he knew she was right. The challenges of distance and schedules were surmountable, but the risk of never exploring what could be between him and you was not. With a deep breath, Spencer resolved to think it over, Alex’s words echoing in his mind as he watched you from across the garden, pondering the possibilities that lay ahead.

Your approach caught Spencer slightly off-guard as he stood there lost in thought, the soft lighting of the garden illuminating the gentle curiosity in your eyes. "Hey doctor," you greeted, your tone light and friendly.

"Hi," Spencer responded, his voice a mixture of warmth and a hint of nervousness that he couldn't quite mask.

"What are you doing over here all alone?" you inquired, stepping closer to him, your presence effortlessly comforting.

"Thinking," he admitted, his eyes meeting yours briefly before looking away as if to gather his thoughts.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you offered, a playful tilt to your voice that seemed to ease some of the tension from Spencer's shoulders.

"For you, for free," he replied with a small, genuine smile, appreciating the ease with which you interacted with him. "Does your mom always try to set you up?"

"Set me up? As in pranks or dates?" you asked, a little laugh escaping you as you pondered which kind of setting up Alex might be more likely to engage in.

"Well, I'm curious about the pranks. But for now, dates," Spencer clarified, his tone suggesting he was treading into more personal territory.

"No, she has never tried to set me up on a date," you said, genuinely surprised by the revelation.

"She just did," Spencer confessed, watching your reaction closely.

"With who?" Your question was quick, filled with curiosity and a flicker of excitement.

"Me," he admitted, his heart rate picking up as he gauged your response to this unexpected twist.

"Did it work?" you asked, a playful yet meaningful question hanging between you, the night air filled with the potential of what might come next.

"I'm not sure yet," Spencer said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a hopeful smile.

"Can I help you decide?" Your words were bold, stepping into the space he offered, both literally and metaphorically.

"Maybe," Spencer replied, his smile broadening, touched by your forwardness and the sincerity behind it. His academic mind knew the complexities of human relationships, yet here, with you, it seemed simpler, more natural.

As you both stood there, the soft noises of the party in the background, a comfortable silence fell over you. It was the kind of moment that seemed to pause, allowing both of you to savor the potential of a new beginning. Spencer felt a rare sense of anticipation, a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying, as he considered what it might mean to take a chance on what your mother had so boldly orchestrated.

"Let's take a walk," you suggested, gesturing towards the garden path that wound its way around Rossi’s property. "We can talk about pranks and other catastrophes."

"Lead the way," Spencer said, a newfound lightness in his step as he joined you, ready to explore wherever this unexpected conversation might lead.

As you and Spencer began your walk along the garden path, the ambient lighting from the party casting gentle shadows around you, the atmosphere seemed ripe for deeper conversation. The air was cooler here, away from the crowd, and the quiet provided a perfect backdrop for getting to know each other better.

"So about those catastrophes... what did you have in mind?" he joked, his tone light and teasing as you both strolled along the garden path.

"Well, you could take me to dinner and I could spill hot soup on your lap," you quipped back, a mischievous glint in your eyes. The suggestion was absurd enough to draw a genuine laugh from Spencer, who seemed more at ease with each passing moment.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed, playing along with the scenario. "That sounds disastrous...and painful. Maybe we should skip the soup and go straight to dessert to avoid any potential accidents." His smile was easy, and his suggestion carried a hint of an actual date proposal, testing the waters to see how you'd respond.

"And that's where you're wrong, Dr. Reid. Too much sugar and I could throw up on you," you joked, your eyes twinkling with humor. This back-and-forth was shaping up to be an entertaining dance of wits.

A mock look of horror crossed Spencer's face as he considered your warning. "Well, that would certainly make for a memorable first date, wouldn't it?" he said, his tone light but with a laugh that suggested he was thoroughly enjoying the conversation.

Spencer's quick wit met each of your playful challenges with a matching jest, his eyes sparkling with delight at the banter that seemed only to draw you two closer. "Indeed! We could see a movie?" you suggested, shifting the conversation to potentially safer territory.

"Hmm, but then someone could talk the whole time, ruining our whole experience," he countered, raising an eyebrow in feigned concern.

"How rude! Then we’ll just have to have a picnic in the park," you offered up another alternative, your voice laced with laughter.

"And get ticks? Do you want to die?" Spencer retorted, a dramatic shiver accompanying his words.

"No, I guess not," you laughed, the absurdity of the escalating scenarios adding a light-hearted tone to the evening. "Maybe we shouldn’t go out then? Safer that way," you teased, gauging his reaction to the mock suggestion.

Spencer paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you, a sincere smile spreading across his face. "I don’t know, the reward seems worth the risk," he finally said, his voice lowering slightly in a more earnest tone. This simple statement, layered with meaning, seemed to anchor the playful conversation with a genuine expression of interest.

The air between you grew charged with the unspoken acknowledgment of the connection forming, as if the jokes and laughter had woven a thread that pulled you inevitably closer. Spencer's admission, veiled though it was in the ongoing joke, hinted at a deeper sentiment, suggesting that whatever minor calamities might accompany a date, the chance to spend time together outweighed them all.

"Alright, Dr. Reid," you responded, matching his serious tone with a lightness that kept the mood buoyant. "Let’s take that risk. Dinner, a movie, or even battling ticks in the park—let's just make sure it's memorable."

Spencer nodded, his agreement sealing the playful pact. "It’s a date then. And who knows? It might just be disaster-free."

"Boring," you giggled, playing along with the teasing theme of your budding relationship. "Do you happen to have a cell phone, Spencer? Or should I start writing you letters?"

Spencer's eyes lit up with amusement at your mention of letter writing, a hint of old-fashioned charm mingling with modern flirtation. "I'd love to exchange letters with you," he said earnestly, “but… the U.S. postal service doesn’t allow for the speed at which I’d like to plan our date.”

"Oh, so you're eager then?" you teased, leaning in slightly.

"Absolutely," Spencer replied, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "When it comes to something—or someone—important, I believe in being timely."

"Well, in that case," you continued, matching his earnest tone with a playful smirk, "perhaps modern technology can serve us better. Shall we exchange numbers instead? It might not be as romantic as a letter, but it’s certainly quicker."

Spencer nodded, readily agreeing as he pulled out his phone, a slightly old model that seemed to suit his slightly out-of-time character. "That sounds like a plan. We can save the letter writing for less urgent communications. Like... thank you notes after the date?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow in a question that also seemed to confirm there would indeed be something to be thankful for after your date.

You both exchanged phones to input your numbers, the action feeling both significant and natural. As you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed briefly, sending a small, unintentional spark of anticipation through both of you.

"Thank you notes sound promising," you said, locking your phone with his number saved. "But let's make sure there's plenty to be thankful for."

"I have no doubts about that," Spencer replied, his confidence surprising even himself. He was usually more reserved, but something about you drew out a more assertive side of him.

—

In the gentle hum of the car on the way home, Alex couldn't resist teasing you a bit more, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating a knowing smile on her face. "You're going to marry Spencer," she declared, her tone playful yet hinting at the underlying seriousness of a mother who's seen a spark worth noting.

"Shut up, mother," you replied, your voice a mixture of embarrassment and affection, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. Despite the protest, there was a flutter of excitement in your heart, a small part of you wondering about the possibilities that lay ahead with Spencer.

The car ride became a cocoon of warmth and laughter as Alex continued to tease gently, and you deflected with feigned annoyance. But underneath the playful banter, there was a shared understanding that this evening might just be the beginning of something special.

—

As soon as Spencer arrived home, the quiet of his apartment amplifying the excitement of the evening, he found himself reaching for his phone. He wanted to maintain the connection that had so pleasantly marked the day, and sending a text seemed like the perfect way to cap off the night. He opened a new message, typing with a hint of eagerness that felt both thrilling and slightly unfamiliar.

As he sent the message, a small part of him worried about appearing too eager, but the genuine enjoyment he'd felt throughout the evening bolstered his confidence. Spencer believed in honesty and direct communication, values that seemed even more important when it came to someone he found as intriguing as you.

Your phone buzzed lightly on the table, drawing your attention away from the evening’s winding down thoughts. You picked it up to find a message from Spencer, his words bringing a warm smile to your face.

Home safe. Thank you for a wonderful evening. When can I see you again?

The message was simple but laden with the kind of earnestness that was quintessentially Spencer. Eager to keep the conversation going, you quickly typed back.

Glad you made it back safely! I had a great time too. How about this weekend? I don’t mind driving back, mom said a new cafe opened downtown…

Sending the message, you felt a flutter of excitement at the prospect of continuing to explore the budding relationship. Spencer's quick response not only showed his interest but also reassured you that the feelings were mutual, setting the stage for what could be the next of many beautiful moments together.

—

Driving into Quantico on Friday evening, you were filled with anticipation and a touch of nervous excitement. You didn’t want to risk being late for your morning date with Spencer, so you decided to spend the night at your mom’s place. It turned out to be the perfect decision, as you and Alex spent the evening together in a flurry of girlish excitement.

The night was a delightful throwback to your teenage years—painting nails, doing each other's hair, and giggling like schoolgirls over the prospect of your upcoming date.

"Do you think he’ll like this shade?" you asked, holding up a bottle of nail polish.

"Oh, definitely," Alex replied with a conspiratorial grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But the real question is, will he be able to keep his eyes off you?"

You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes at her teasing. The evening passed with laughter and stories, your mom sharing her own tales of first dates and romantic adventures. It was a bonding experience that left you feeling both nostalgic and buoyant about the day ahead.

—

When Saturday morning rolled around, you were up early, butterflies dancing in your stomach. Spencer was due to pick you up at 9 AM, and as the clock ticked closer to the hour, you found yourself checking the mirror more than once to make sure everything was perfect.

Right on time, a knock echoed from the front door. Spencer’s punctuality was something you appreciated—it spoke of his character and his consideration for others. Alex opened the door, greeting Spencer with her usual warmth and a hint of teasing that seemed to run in the family.

"Good morning, Alex," Spencer greeted, standing on the doorstep with a slight nervousness that was both endearing and charming.

"Morning, Spencer. Don’t you look handsome?" Alex complimented, her eyes twinkling as she took in his outfit. Spencer had opted for his classic style—a simple cardigan over a button-up shirt. It was understated yet put-together, reflecting his thoughtful nature.

Spencer blushed at the compliment, glancing down at his clothes with a shy smile. "Do you think she’ll like it?" he asked, his tone earnest.

Before Alex could respond, you rounded the corner, catching him off guard. "I think so," you said with a playful grin. "Although I think suspenders would have really tied the whole look together."

Your teasing made Spencer chuckle, his initial nervousness dissipating in the warmth of your humor. "I’ll remember that for next time," he replied, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Alex laughed, stepping aside to let Spencer in. "Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Have a wonderful time," she said, giving you a knowing smile before retreating to give you both some privacy.

You and Spencer exchanged a quick, excited glance as he offered you his arm. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice filled with the promise of a day spent in good company.

"Absolutely," you replied, taking his arm and feeling a thrill at the beginning of what was sure to be a memorable date. The morning was bright, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the world seemed to open up before you as you stepped out the door, ready to explore the day together.

As you walked towards his car, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement, the anticipation of a new chapter with someone who had quickly become more than just an acquaintance in your life. Spencer, with his thoughtful nature and quiet charm, had intrigued you from the start, and now, with the day ahead, you were eager to see where this path might lead.

“So far, so good…” you mumbled to yourself as Spencer started driving, trying to calm your nerves with a little humor.

“What was that?” he laughed, glancing over at you with a curious smile, clearly enjoying the light-heartedness of the morning.

“Well, neither of us fell down the steps, and you haven’t crashed the car,” you joked, trying to keep things upbeat despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Yet,” he added, winking playfully.

“Thank you for reminding me,” you shot back with a grin, your nerves easing a bit at his playful attitude.

“Just keeping your expectations in check,” he teased, his voice carrying that signature blend of intelligence and humor that you were already growing fond of.

—

When you arrived at the new café, Spencer wasted no time showing off his gentlemanly side. He quickly rounded the car to open your door, then opened the café door to let you in, a small but meaningful gesture that made your heart skip a beat. He was attentive and respectful, qualities that seemed to define him beyond his impressive intellect.

As you both approached the counter, Spencer insisted on paying for your drink and pastry, despite your playful protests. “I’ve got this,” he said with a smile, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Alright, but next time, it’s on me,” you playfully warned, accepting his kindness while making a mental note to repay the gesture in the future.

Once seated in a quiet corner booth, the cozy ambiance of the café surrounded you with the soft aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. However, as you settled into your seat, a wave of nerves washed over you. You were sitting across from the sweetest, most intelligent man you’d ever met, who also happened to be incredibly handsome. The weight of the moment suddenly felt significant, and you found yourself worrying about making a good impression.

What if you said something wrong, and he decided this would be your last date? Or worse, what if you two started dating, and he realized later on that you weren’t worth his time? The thoughts were relentless, and you tried to push them aside, but they lingered, casting a shadow over your otherwise perfect morning.

As if sensing your unease, Spencer reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on your forearm. His touch was reassuring, grounding you in the present moment. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked softly, echoing the words you’d used back at the pool party, his eyes full of genuine concern and interest.

You took a deep breath, smiling at his thoughtful gesture. "I'm afraid they're going to cost more than that," you replied, attempting to keep your tone light, though the hint of anxiety was still present.

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, showing his empathy. "You don’t have to worry. I’m here because I want to be," he said, his voice sincere and calming. "Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not as daunting as it seems."

His words offered comfort, a reminder that this date wasn’t an audition or a test but rather an opportunity to enjoy each other’s company. Spencer was someone who valued authenticity and kindness, and he was sitting here with you, eager to learn more about who you truly were.

Taking a sip of your coffee to steady yourself, you decided to share a bit of your inner turmoil. "I guess I’m just overthinking things," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "Sometimes I worry about saying the wrong thing or not living up to expectations."

Spencer nodded, understanding reflected in his eyes. "I know how that feels," he said. "But I’m really enjoying getting to know you, and there’s no pressure here. Just be yourself—that’s more than enough."

His reassurance was like a balm to your nerves, the sincerity in his eyes melting away your fears. You realized that Spencer, with all his brilliance and kindness, was just as interested in discovering the real you as you were in discovering the real him.

With that understanding, the conversation flowed more freely. You found yourselves laughing over shared interests, discussing your favorite books, and even diving into topics that revealed your mutual curiosity about the world. As the morning unfolded, you felt more and more at ease, confident in the knowledge that this was just the beginning of a meaningful connection.

—

Once you and Spencer had spent a considerable amount of time talking and enjoying each other's company in the cafe, you both realized it was probably time to head out. The two of you exchanged a knowing glance as a group of patrons eyed your now empty cups and plates, clearly hoping to claim your cozy corner booth for themselves.

Stepping out onto the bustling sidewalk, the sun was now high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the streets. The air was filled with the lively energy of a city on a Saturday morning, and the thought of ending your date felt premature.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, turned to you with a hopeful expression. "I hope this doesn't come across as too eager," he began, his eyes earnest and sincere, "but I really don't want this to end yet."

His admission made your heart skip a beat, the sincerity behind his words sparking a flutter of excitement. "I like eager, and I like you," you replied with a smile that matched his, both playful and genuine. "I don't want this to end either. What should we do?"

Spencer paused, considering his options before speaking again. "Is it presumptuous to invite you to my apartment?" he asked, his tone carefully casual, though the question carried a subtle undertone of hopefulness.

Feigning shock, you exaggerated a pout, leaning into the playful dynamic that had defined your morning together. "I knew it," you said, shaking your head with mock disapproval.

"What?" Spencer looked genuinely confused for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to decipher your expression.

"You just want to get in my pants," you teased, maintaining the pout for effect but letting a mischievous smile slip through.

Spencer's face flushed a deep shade of pink, his eyes widening in surprise and mild horror. "No, no, that's not— I mean, I didn't mean it like that," he stammered, scrambling to explain himself as you watched with growing amusement.

Unable to keep up the charade, you broke into laughter, the sound infectious and lighthearted. "Relax, Spencer," you reassured him between giggles, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm just messing with you."

His expression softened, relief washing over him as he joined in your laughter, though still a bit flustered. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?" he admitted, shaking his head with a sheepish grin.

"You did," you agreed, playfully bumping your shoulder against his. "But in all seriousness, I'd love to see your place. And maybe continue our conversation over another cup of coffee or a game of chess?"

Spencer's face lit up at your suggestion, his enthusiasm unmistakable. "I have an excellent chess set," he said, eager to share a part of his world with you. "And plenty of coffee. My apartment is just a short walk from here."

As you strolled side by side through the lively streets, you felt a sense of anticipation building. The playful banter and shared laughter from earlier had created a comfortable atmosphere.

—

The walk to Spencer's apartment was filled with easy conversation, each of you sharing snippets of your lives, interests, and quirks. By the time you reached his building, you felt as if you'd known him for much longer than the short time you had.

Spencer led you up the stairs to his apartment, his excitement palpable as he unlocked the door and welcomed you inside. The space was neat and organized, with bookshelves lining the walls, each one filled to the brim with an impressive collection of literature.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Spencer said with a shy smile, gesturing for you to make yourself comfortable. "I apologize for the mess," he added, though the room was anything but.

"It's perfect," you assured him, taking in the cozy surroundings with genuine admiration. "I feel like I'm in a library. I love it."

Spencer beamed at your compliment, clearly pleased by your appreciation for his carefully curated space. "Would you like something to drink?" he offered, making his way to the small kitchen area. "I've got coffee, tea, or if you're feeling adventurous, I make a pretty decent hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate sounds perfect," you decided, settling into a comfortable chair and looking around the room with interest.

As Spencer prepared the drinks, you wandered over to the chess set he had mentioned earlier, admiring the intricate design and thoughtful arrangement. When he returned with two steaming mugs, you were already setting up the pieces, eager to see how the game would unfold.

You eyed the chess pieces thoughtfully, arranging them with a bit of flair. "So, Dr. Reid," you said with a teasing lilt, "are you ready to face your greatest challenge yet?"

Spencer chuckled, running a hand through his hair and setting his pieces with meticulous care. "Are you sure you're up for it? I've been known to have a few tricks up my sleeve," he replied, a hint of mischief in his tone.

"Oh, I can handle a challenge," you grinned, meeting his gaze with equal enthusiasm. "And I’ve got a few surprises of my own."

As the game progressed, each move was accompanied by playful commentary. Spencer, confident yet humble, often narrated his strategies, while you countered with a mix of humor and mock intimidation.

"Interesting move," Spencer noted as you advanced your bishop. "Trying to catch me off guard, are we?"

"Maybe," you said with a wink, feigning innocence. "Or maybe I'm just setting a trap you'll never see coming."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, considering his next move. "I must admit, you play with a certain flair," he remarked, capturing one of your pawns. "But you might want to watch your back row there."

The banter continued as the board grew more intense, the stakes feeling delightfully high as each of you tried to outmaneuver the other.

"Are you this competitive with everything, or is it just chess?" Spencer teased, leaning back slightly as he observed the board.

"Only when I'm winning," you shot back, sticking out your tongue playfully. "I’ve heard rumors that you're quite the prodigy, though. Should I be worried?"

"Only if you hate losing," Spencer replied, his smile broadening. "Though I’m starting to think you might just be my match." Not really, but he likes you so he can pretend.

"Oh, is that so? Well, I've been known to surprise people," you said, feigning an air of mystery.

As the game drew closer to its conclusion, you both found yourselves leaning forward, caught up in the tension and excitement.

"Check," you announced triumphantly, moving your queen into a position that put Spencer's king at risk.

He looked at the board, feigning surprise. "You do realize this isn’t over yet, right?" he said, moving his king to safety.

"I know," you admitted, grinning. "But I like to keep you on your toes."

"Mission accomplished," Spencer said, making his next move with careful deliberation. "But don't think you've got me beat just yet."

—

Spencer watched with amusement as you performed a little victory dance in your chair, your eyes gleaming with triumph. He had let you win, hoping to see this very reaction—the way you lit up with glee at having outsmarted him, at least for this round. However, as your playful taunting continued, he couldn’t resist the urge to reclaim his honor on the chessboard.

“Oh, come on!” you teased, unable to suppress your laughter. “Are you really as good as everyone says you are, Dr. Reid? Because that was almost too easy!”

Spencer feigned a dramatic sigh, shaking his head with a grin. “Alright, alright. You got me that time. But I demand a rematch!” he declared, a determined glint in his eyes.

“Okay, sore loser,” you teased back, clearly enjoying the banter. “Do you have anything stronger to drink? I don’t think I can handle kicking your ass twice in a row if I’m sober.”

Playfully rolling his eyes, Spencer got up from his seat, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he headed over to his small, well-organized liquor cabinet. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey that Gideon had gifted him long ago, the label aged and promising quality.

“I have whiskey. Will that do?” he asked, holding the bottle up for you to see.

“Perfect,” you replied, your eyes lighting up at the thought of a drink to accompany the next game. “Get your little butt back over here so I can give you a real challenge.”

Spencer chuckled, the warmth in his chest growing as he poured two glasses of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light in a way that made it look almost magical. He handed you a glass before taking his seat across the chessboard once more.

“Alright, no more Mr. Nice Guy,” Spencer said with a wink, setting up the pieces with renewed determination. “This time, you’re going to see why they call me the chess prodigy.”

“Oh, I’m shaking,” you replied mockingly, taking a sip of the whiskey. The drink was smooth and rich, the perfect companion for another round of playful rivalry. “Let’s see if you can back up those claims, Dr. Reid.”

The game began anew, the atmosphere between you charged with competitive energy and a touch of alcohol-induced warmth. Spencer’s moves were precise and calculated, each one revealing the depth of his strategic mind, yet still leaving room for light-hearted commentary.

“Watch out,” he warned as he moved his knight into a threatening position. “I might just turn the tables this time.”

You narrowed your eyes, pretending to study the board intensely. “Is that all you’ve got?” you quipped, countering his move with one of your own. “I thought I’d at least have to break a sweat.”

—

The rematch began, and it wasn’t long before Spencer was expertly maneuvering his pieces, quickly putting you on the defensive. His moves were precise, and each one seemed to corner you more and more, revealing the depth of his strategic mind.

"Okay, that was just unfair," you complained, watching as another one of your pieces was captured by Spencer’s bishop.

"How so?" he asked innocently, though his eyes were sparkling with amusement. "All of my moves were legal!"

"Rematch!" you demanded, unable to hide the playful challenge in your voice.

"Another? Do you like losing?" Spencer teased, his smile widening as he prepared to set up the board once more.

"Oh, Dr. Reid…" you said, leaning in slightly, the whiskey doing wonders for the rising tension in the room. "Okay. Let's make this round more interesting then."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the playful edge in your voice. "How so?" he asked, leaning closer, captivated by the challenge.

"How about, for each piece you lose, you have to remove an item of clothing?" you suggested, your tone daring and mischievous.

Spencer paused, considering your proposal as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'm listening…" he replied, his curiosity piqued.

"Say I take your pawn… you have to take off your cardigan," you explained, running your finger up his covered arm, drawing a shiver from the usually composed doctor.

"Okay…" Spencer agreed, his voice dropping to a low, interested murmur.

"And if you take mine… I'll take something off," you continued, meeting his gaze with a look that promised excitement.

The chess pieces were set, and the stakes were higher this round as you both leaned over the board, your focus split between the game and the tension that crackled between you.

Spencer's first move was calculated, his eyes flickering between the board and you. "Ready to play?" he asked, his voice laced with playful confidence.

"As I'll ever be," you replied, your heart racing with anticipation.

The game progressed with both of you taking careful yet bold moves, the stakes of the game adding an electrifying thrill to each capture.

When Spencer took your first pawn, he smiled knowingly, the whiskey giving him a touch more boldness than usual. "Looks like I get to see if you're a woman of your word," he said, gesturing to your side of the board.

True to your word, you slipped off your jacket, placing it on the back of your chair with a smirk. "I hope you're ready to reciprocate," you shot back, eyes twinkling with the thrill of the game.

With each piece lost, the room seemed to grow warmer, and the playful tension between you and Spencer heightened with each exchange. Of course, so far, you had been the only one losing clothing. After saying goodbye to your jacket, you'd lost both your shoes and socks, realizing belatedly that there were more chess pieces than articles of clothing you had on. Perhaps you hadn’t thought this through.

Spencer captured another one of your pawns, and you met his gaze with a raised eyebrow as you removed your bottoms. "You're quite the strategist," you admitted, feeling the stakes increase with each move.

"It's all about thinking ahead," he replied, his voice steady despite the thrill of the game. "And being prepared for any surprises."

Spencer couldn't help but let his gaze drift as you stood to pull your bottoms off, exposing your panties. You now stood before him in just a bra and underwear, and he was visibly stunned.

"Close your mouth, Dr. Reid; we still have a game to play," you teased, relishing the way his eyes were glued to you.

Finally, you managed to capture one of his pieces. Spencer, true to the spirit of the game, removed his cardigan, revealing his button-up shirt underneath. The simple action sent a ripple of excitement through the room, the stakes becoming more real with each move.

When Spencer captured your next piece, he watched you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra.

"Wait, you don’t actually have to do that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable," Spencer said, his voice suddenly serious, even though his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

"What? And not follow the rules? I'm a team player, Spencer," you replied with a wink before unhooking the clasp and letting the material fall with a quiet thud.

Spencer openly stared, mesmerized by not only your body but your confidence. You saw him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tried to regain his composure.

"As much as I'm loving this attention, and I am," you teased, "we still have to finish."

Spencer cleared his throat and shook his head. "Right, um, yes, sorry."

His focus was clearly affected; his strategic edge seemed to falter as the game continued. Despite his brilliance, the sight before him was a considerable distraction, and it wasn't long before you managed to capture more of his pieces.

Piece by piece, you worked Spencer down, until he was left in his briefs, the tables having turned in your favor. Each move was accompanied by the thrill of your mutual anticipation, his eyes dancing between the board and you, admiration and vulnerability on his face.

"Checkmate," you announced, moving your queen into position with a satisfied grin.

Spencer stared at the board, the reality of his defeat sinking in, along with a sense of something more profound, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension that had been building between you.

"You played well," Spencer said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a reluctant smile. "Better than I anticipated."

"I had a little help," you replied, a teasing lilt in your voice.

As you both sat there, the game concluded and the stakes settled, it was clear that chess had only been the prelude to something much deeper. The room seemed to pulse with the energy of possibilities, each moment stretching out with potential.

"So," you said, leaning back in your chair, fully aware of the effect you had on him, "what now, Dr. Reid?"

Spencer's eyes met yours, the vulnerability in them replaced by a newfound resolve. "I think," he began, his voice steady despite the situation, "it's time for another round. But this time, no chessboard required."

The words hung in the air between you, an invitation to step beyond the playful game and into the realm of genuine connection. You felt a rush of excitement mingled with anticipation, your heart pounding in your chest as Spencer considered your invitation.

“Make your move, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice low and inviting, “capture the queen.”

Spencer’s eyes met yours, a flicker of hesitation giving way to a resolve that was both thrilling and tender. He stood slowly, the weight of the moment making every second seem deliberate and significant. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you with a graceful ease that belied the intensity of the situation.

As he approached, you felt a shiver of anticipation run through you, the heat between you almost palpable. Spencer placed his hands on the armrests on either side of you, his gaze steady and full of intent. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken desire, an uncharted territory waiting to be explored.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both soft and electric, a gentle yet confident movement that spoke volumes of his affection and admiration. The kiss was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly grew more assured.

You responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His touch was electrifying, sending ripples of sensation through you, each kiss deepening the intimacy between you.

The kiss seemed to last forever, a timeless moment where nothing else existed but the two of you. You were aware of every detail—the softness of his lips, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his fingers gently caressed your cheek as if you were something precious and fragile.

As you pulled back slightly, breathless and exhilarated, Spencer gazed into your eyes with a look that was equal parts admiration and wonder. “Wow,” he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. “I should have captured the queen a long time ago.”

You chuckled softly, the tension now transformed into a shared joy. “Well, I’m glad you finally made your move,” you replied, your heart racing with the thrill of what lay ahead.

Spencer leaned in and kissed you again, his touch gentle but insistent. This time, his arms scooped under your back, helping you to stand as the chessboard faded into a distant memory. He started leading you toward the bedroom, both of you stumbling slightly in your eagerness, blindly bumping into furniture and walls. The clumsiness only added to the playful atmosphere, causing you to giggle into each other’s mouths as you moved.

Once in the bedroom, Spencer gently pushed you back onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You stared up at him, the beautiful man who was now crawling towards you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Spencer's gaze was full of admiration and desire, his eyes traveling over you with a look that made you feel both cherished and wanted. He moved closer, his fingers lightly tracing over your skin, sending sparks of anticipation through you.

“Can I take these off?” Spencer asked, his fingers hovering at the edge of your waistband, his voice filled with excitement and respect for your boundaries.

“Yes, please,” you replied, breathless and eager, giving him the reassurance he sought.

With your consent, Spencer carefully pulled down your panties, his touch reverent as he took in the sight of your glistening core. His eyes were filled with awe, his gaze drinking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

“Is there anything you don’t want to do?” he asked, his voice gentle and sincere, wanting to ensure that every step was taken with your comfort in mind.

You shook your head, feeling completely at ease with him. “Yes, but I highly doubt you’re going to find any of my hard limits right now,” you replied with a soft smile, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

Spencer chuckled, a sound that was both warm and arousing, before he leaned in closer, spreading your thighs and pressing a tender kiss to your clit. His lips were soft and gentle, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through you like a slow-burning flame.

You let out a soft whine from the back of your throat, a sound that resonated with encouragement and desire. It urged Spencer to explore more, to push beyond the boundaries of what you’d both anticipated. His eyes met yours briefly, a question of permission, of eagerness to continue. You nodded, biting your lip in anticipation.

Spencer's tongue flattened against you, and he slowly licked up the length of your core, eliciting a deep, involuntary arch of your back. The sensation was electrifying, sending ripples of pleasure through your entire body.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, twisting gently, encouraging him with each soft pull and gasp. The gentle friction between your fingers and his scalp seemed to spur him on, pushing him to devour more of you, which made you cry out and melt beneath him.

When he made it back to your clit, Spencer paused for a moment, teasing you with soft, deliberate touches before sucking hard in a way that made you grip his hair with renewed urgency. Your body moved instinctively against him, urging him forward, craving more of the sensation that he so expertly wielded.

With each lick and suck, his face shifted deeper into you, the intimacy of the moment deepening with each shared breath and whispered curse from you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a cocoon of shared sensation and mutual exploration.

Spencer's movements were that of a man starved, he was eating you out with the fever of someone who had been craving you since the moment you met. Crazy. His jaw was open, his tongue exploring, plunging, and teasing.

Your hips responded to his rhythm, moving in time with his licks, your body and mind in perfect harmony with his. Each touch, each suck was a conversation of its own, a dialogue of desire that required no words, only the language of touch and shared experience.

Feeling the rise of your peak within you, you let yourself go, surrendering to the sensations, letting Spencer guide you through the intricate dance of pleasure and connection. His tongue was a constant, grounding force, leading you through each wave with skillful precision, until every thought was consumed by the spark between you.

Your body trembled under his touch, every nerve alight with sensation, and as you reached the peak of your orgasm, your body dissolved into a mix of cries and thrusts.

Spencer's hands never left you, his touch soothing and reassuring, drawing you back into a gentle embrace as the waves of sensation began to ebb. You looked up at him, breathless and blissfully content, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that spoke of shared understanding and mutual joy.

“Jesus Christ, where did you learn how to do that?” you breathed out incredulously, the lingering sensations from Spencer’s touch still making your skin tingle.

He chuckled softly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, I did win a pie-eating contest one time,” he replied with a modest shrug, the mischievous tone in his voice making you giggle.

“What flavor of pie would you say I am?” you asked, your voice filled with a teasing lilt as you watched his reaction.

“The sweetest,” he replied, a warmth in his gaze that sent a delightful shiver through you. With that, Spencer’s lips were on yours again, a fervent kiss that rekindled the heat between you.

His hands began to explore once more, each finding a home of its own, one tracing a gentle path through your soaking wet core and the other resting firmly on your breast, tugging at your nipple. Both sensations drove you wild, the overstimulation lighting your body on fire with renewed intensity.

“Spencer!” you gasped, the word filled with plea and admiration.

“Yeah? Need something?” he mumbled against your lips, the vibration of his words adding another layer of sensation.

You babbled incoherently, unable to articulate the jumble of feelings as your mouth trailed along his jaw and neck, tasting the salt and warmth of his skin before nibbling your way down to his shoulder. You were lost in the moment, each thrust of his fingers inside of you bringing a new wave of pleasure that left you breathless.

“Ow! You little vampire,” he laughed, a playful lilt to his voice as you bit at his shoulder.

Spencer’s laughter was contagious, and you found yourself smiling, your fingers dancing lightly across his skin, eager to explore and discover. The sense of closeness and trust between you deepened with each shared touch, creating a bond that felt as though it had been years in the making.

Each touch was precise and intentional, telling of Spencer’s attentive nature, as he focused entirely on your pleasure, reading your reactions with keen insight. The way he responded to your every whimper and sigh was almost like he was playing an intricate piece of music, his fingers moving deftly across an instrument, coaxing out beautiful notes of arousal.

Your hand drifted to his hair again, tugging gently as your lips met his once more, the kiss a reflection of the emotions you couldn't quite express in words. The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and spice that lingered on your tongue, driving you to pull him even closer.

Spencer’s lips moved with purpose, his mouth devouring yours similarly to how he ate you out, sending ripples of pleasure that left you breathless and eager for more. His touch was both tender and electric, each kiss, thrust, twist, tug bringing you closer to the edge, where anticipation and fulfillment danced in perfect harmony.

Right when you thought you were going to have another blissful orgasm under the most beautiful man, Spencer did the unthinkable: he removed all touch. One moment, his warmth surrounded you, his hands on your skin, the next moment his touch was gone.

"Huh? What? No? Spencer? Come back!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with both surprise and desperation, reaching for him as if to tether him back to you.

He smiled down at you, that endearing blend of playfulness and intent twinkling in his eyes. "Sorry, honey. Saving that for when I'm inside you," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice as he pulled back, making a move to leave the bed.

You let out a small whine of frustration, your orgasm hanging in the air, clearly upset with his choice and impatient for him to fulfill his promise. Every nerve in your body seemed to echo your disappointment, each pulse demanding his return.

"I'm just getting a condom, calm down," he teased, a wicked grin on his face as he headed for the drawer beside the bed.

"You did this to me," you half-growled, half-laughed, throwing an arm over your face in exaggerated exasperation. "You fix it."

"Okay, okay," he laughed and surrendered, returning with the condom in hand.

"Can I put it on?" you asked, your voice carrying a note of playful mischief.

"Really?" he responded, his curiosity piqued by the offer, eyes widening slightly in pleasant surprise.

"Mhm," you nodded, the opportunity too enticing to pass up.

"O–okay," he agreed, handing the package to you with a blend of excitement and curiosity.

With the condom in hand, you slid the rubber down his cock, taking a moment to appreciate the sheer size and girth of him, marveling at the way he responded to your touch. Your fingers traced the smooth, firm contours, feeling the heat and the steady rhythm of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

You jerked him steadily now, feeling the anticipation between you crescendo as you prepared him to fuck you. Each movement was testing his patience as he leaned into the smooth, warm glide of your hand .

"Fuck, I'm ready," Spencer breathed out, the rawness of his words echoing the tension in the room, his body language speaking volumes of his readiness to continue where you had left off.

"I know," you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes as you finished, meeting his gaze with a knowing smile. "Welcome to the club."

You were nicer than Spencer, though, guiding him gently back into the space between your hips, your bodies aligning perfectly. The anticipation hung like a sweet apple, the promise of what was to come electrifying the air.

As he pushed inside of you, you let out a soft whimper, the sensation new and exciting. The warmth of his body against yours, the slow glide of his cock as he moved, each thrust was a dance of intimacy and desire, your walls clenching down around him.

The atmosphere between you was charged with a palpable energy, each of you breathless from the intensity of the moment. Spencer's eyes locked onto yours, his gaze filled with adoration and mischief. He leaned in closer, his lips just inches from your ear as he whispered in a voice thick with desire.

“Ohhh, fuck me, you feel so good,” he murmured, his words a teasing invitation wrapped in a velvet promise. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he continued. “You’re so tight. Gonna let me stretch you?”

His tone was low and sultry, the kind that sent your heart racing and made your skin tingle with anticipation. Every syllable seemed to wrap around you, pulling you deeper into the intoxicating web he was weaving.

You felt a deep flutter of excitement at his words, your body responding instinctively to the offer he laid before you. The raw need in his voice was mirrored in your own desires, and you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper as you nodded eagerly.

“Oh, please, Spencer, please!” you implored, your voice carrying a breathy edge of desperation. The plea tumbled from your lips, fueled by the heat of the moment and the urgency of your shared longing.

The way you said his name—Spencer—was like music to his ears, a perfect harmony of hunger and surrender that urged him on. He met your gaze with a knowing smile.

Spencer's fingers returned to your clit, his touch firm and tender, anchoring you to the moment as he found his rhythm, each smack of his hips against yours bringing you closer to the edge. Your own hands explored his chest, tracing the lines of his stomach and feeling the play of muscle beneath the skin.

As the air between you hummed with anticipation, curiosity got the better of you. You let your fingers trail down Spencer's skin, your touch feather-light and exploratory. His breath hitched in his throat as you delicately pinched one of Spencer’s nipples between your fingers, marveling at the way it felt under your touch.

The sensation was new and electrifying for him, a ripple of pleasure that surged through his body and caused him to moan out loudly, his reaction unguarded and genuine. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he processed the unexpected jolt of sensation.

"My god, you are something else," he breathed, his voice filled with awe and delight at your unexpected boldness.

"Something good?" you asked, your tone playful yet genuinely curious as you continued to experiment with the effect your touch had on him.

"Something amazing," Spencer replied, his eyes opening to meet yours with a smoldering intensity. "God, I'm so into you."

The raw honesty in his voice sent a thrill through you, your own heart racing with the realization of just how much you had drawn him in. His words resonated with a sincerity that made you feel both cherished and wanted.

"Uhhh huh, me too," you admitted, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Like you so much."

Spencer grinned, a warm, genuine smile that spoke of mutual admiration and affection. "Mmm, like you too, pretty girl," he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss that spoke of everything words couldn't quite convey.

The kiss was soft and lingering, a gentle mingling of breath and sensation that deepened the connection between you. Spencer's hands found their way to your face, cradling it gently as he poured every ounce of his affection into the kiss.

Your fingers continued their exploration, tracing paths across his skin that left him shivering in delight, each touch adding another layer of intimacy to the moment.

The world around you faded into insignificance as you lost yourselves in each other. The kiss lingered, a promise of the depth of emotion that had taken root between you, growing stronger with each passing moment.

With each glide of his cock inside you, Spencer drove you higher, the anticipation building to a fever pitch until you were both caught in a whirlwind of passion and arousal.

"Spencer, I'm so close," you murmured, your voice a soft plea as you pressed yourself closer to him, your fingers tracing over where his cock was stretching you open.

His response was immediate, his breath catching as he met your eyes, the dark desire in his gaze mirrored by your own. "Oh yeah?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, thick with intensity.

"Mhm," you confirmed, the sound of your voice wavering with need. "Please let me come, please," you begged, the urgency in your words matched by the way your body moved against his.

Spencer let out a ragged groan, clearly affected by your words and your touch. "Oh fuck, yeah beg for it," he groaned, his hands gripping you a little tighter as he relished in the moment.

"Please, I've been so good. I deserve it, please, Spencer, please!" You whined and whimpered, writhing on the bed, your desperation palpable as you sought the release that seemed just out of reach.

"Shit, okay, pretty girl," Spencer finally relented, his voice gruff with arousal. "Don't cry. You can come," he whispered, granting you the permission you needed to finally let go.

With his words, a rush of relief and excitement surged through you, the sensation of finally being able to finish overwhelming you in the best possible way. Spencer’s presence was your anchor, his touch guiding you as you moved into a realm of pure ecstacy, the culmination of everything you’d been craving. As the relief washed over you, you felt Spencer's reassuring kisses alongside your face.

Spencer was trying his very best not to lose it in that moment, the feeling of your walls tightening around him driving him absolutely wild.

"That's it, beautiful," he murmured softly, a smile in his voice. "Let it out, so good for me."

You felt his encouragement seep into your skin, giving you the strength to ride the waves of pleasure crashing over you. "Ungh, so good for you," you managed to reply, your voice a shaky whisper as you surrendered to the moment.

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with affection as he looked down at you. "You okay, baby?" he asked, a playful edge to his voice as he teased you for your earlier pleas.

Breathless and blissful, you nodded, meeting his gaze with a half-smile. "Want you to come, please come inside me," you murmured, your eyes holding a mix of need and desire as you urged him on.

With that, Spencer doubled his efforts, lifting your legs above your shoulders. The shift in position only heightened the intensity of the sensations, the new angle sending fresh waves of pleasure rippling through you.

His thrusts were precise, each one sending sparks of electricity through your nerves as he worked to bring himself closer to the edge. You could feel the strength in his arms, his grip firm yet gentle as he supported you, the rhythm of his hips never faltering.

"Spencer," you gasped, your body so sensitive but so willing to let him use you for his pleasure.

Spencer leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His desire took control of him, stilling his cock inside you and emptying his spend into the condom. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in a shared moment of vulnerability.

As the intensity of the moment subsided, Spencer gently pulled away, riding of the condom and laid down beside you. The tension and passion gave way to a lighter atmosphere as you both broke into a fit of laughter, the relief and joy of the experience bubbling to the surface.

"Well, that was a hell of a first date," you giggled, turning to face him, your eyes still sparkling with the afterglow of the moment.

Spencer tried to catch his breath, a wide grin spreading across his face. "This is going to sound like a lie," he confessed, his voice still slightly breathless, "but I promise it's not—I have never done that on a first date before."

"Me neither," you replied, your laughter mingling with his as you both basked in the comfortable ease that had settled between you.

There was something undeniably genuine about the way you and Spencer had connected. It was a rare and beautiful thing, and you both knew it.

Spencer turned to you, his expression soft and sincere. "I didn't expect today to turn out like this," he admitted, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

"Neither did I," you agreed, leaning into his touch, the simple gesture filled with warmth and reassurance. "But I'm really glad it did."

"Me too," he said, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that seemed to say everything else he was feeling.

The silence that followed was comfortable and full, a testament to the connection you'd forged in such a short time. You both knew that this was only the beginning, a promising start to something that could grow into something truly special.

Spencer's fingers intertwined with yours, a silent promise of more moments like this, and as you both drifted into a contented quiet.

The peaceful moment was broken by your phone ringing into the quiet apartment, its sudden intrusion shattering the silence you had both been enjoying. You exchanged a glance with Spencer, a silent agreement to ignore it, wanting to savor the tranquility a little longer.

But then Spencer's phone started buzzing too, vibrating insistently from the other room. The coincidence raised your concern, and both of you quickly moved to pull on your clothes, an unspoken understanding that something might be wrong if both phones were ringing at once.

You made your way together to the living room, the echo of your footsteps filling the space as you searched for your phones. It was then that you saw who had called.

"It was my mom," you said, a bit of worry creeping into your voice as you checked your missed calls. She had tried reaching both of you, the notifications now blinking up at you like tiny urgent reminders.

“Oh, shit,” you exclaimed, realizing the oversight. “I didn’t think to tell her not to wait up.”

Spencer let out a small, understanding chuckle, though there was a hint of sheepishness in his expression. “You should probably call her back before she thinks I killed you,” he suggested, half-joking but aware that Alex's motherly instincts could be running on high alert.

Nodding, you tapped your mom’s contact and brought the phone to your ear, pacing slightly as you waited for her to pick up. Spencer stood nearby, a reassuring presence as he watched you with a small smile, seemingly amused by the situation.

"Hello?" Alex answered, her voice tinged with concern.

"Hey, Mom," you greeted, a little breathless from the urgency of the call. "Sorry about not calling. We got a bit caught up," you admitted, hoping your tone would convey that everything was okay.

"Caught up, huh?" Alex replied, her voice softening as she caught on to the undertone of your words. "I was just checking to make sure you two hadn’t gotten into any trouble."

You laughed lightly, relieved that she was more teasing than serious. "No trouble here, I promise. Just…you know, good company."

From the other side of the room, Spencer offered a thumbs-up, his playful smile widening.

"I'm glad to hear that," Alex said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "I figured you might not be coming back tonight, but I wanted to make sure."

“Oh, uh, I didn’t ask…” you said, your words trailing off as you glanced at Spencer, who was now looking at you with a curious head tilt.

"Spencer, can I spend the night?" you asked, the question hanging in the air with a playful innocence.

“Yes, of course,” he replied with a warm smile, his answer immediate and sincere, clearly pleased by your request.

You giggled, feeling a flutter of excitement at his quick agreement, before turning back to your conversation with your mom.

"Thanks for checking in," you replied to Alex, feeling grateful for her thoughtfulness. "I'll be sure to call next time."

"Alright, enjoy the rest of your night. And tell Spencer hello for me."

"I will," you promised, feeling the warmth of her acceptance. "Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight, sweetie."

You ended the call and turned back to Spencer, who was watching you with an expression of mild curiosity and relief.

"All good?" he asked, his tone gentle.

"All good," you confirmed, feeling a wave of affection for him and the way he seemed genuinely concerned. "She just wanted to make sure I was okay."

"Well, I'm glad she called," Spencer said, coming closer and wrapping an arm around you. "Because I would have been worried too if I didn't know where you were."

The sentiment in his words was sweet, a reminder of the genuine care that had developed between you so quickly. As you settled back into the living room, the tension of the phone calls faded away, leaving only the comfort of each other’s company.

"Now that we have our alibi sorted," Spencer joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what should we do next?"

You leaned into him, savoring the warmth and closeness, the day's events leaving you both in high spirits. With a teasing glint in your eye, you suggested, "How about we rob a bank? We’ve had great luck so far today."

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head at the idea. "You know I am an FBI agent, right?" he reminded you, his tone playful but with a hint of mock seriousness.

"I know," you replied, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smile. "And it's so sexy."

"Says the professor," Spencer countered, raising an eyebrow at you with a grin that spoke volumes about how much he enjoyed this playful banter.

You both broke into laughter, the lighthearted teasing weaving a comfortable intimacy between you. It was easy to get lost in moments like this with Spencer, where everything felt natural and right.

For the rest of the night, you continued to giggle and flirt, exchanging stories and jokes. Every shared glance and touch felt like another piece of a puzzle falling into place, creating a picture of something that promised to be both thrilling and meaningful.

As the hours passed, you found yourselves wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and companionship, the world outside fading away as you enjoyed each other's company. It was the kind of night that felt like the beginning of a wonderful adventure, one that neither of you wanted to end.

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