#wanna think it was the coffee i had before. but.

[wendichester]

Hello! Could I perhaps request the winchester of your choice (whoever you feel fits this situation best) x reader with an established relationship, where maybe it's an anniversary so he wants to make something special for you, like a special dinner in the bunker, the bedroom filled with candles and a bouquet of flowers, that sort of thing, because for once there isn't a case

EXCEPT: you haven't left the bunker all day, there's no reason to! You three finished a case the day before so you took this as a resting day since there wasn't any other case found, so! The brothers have to find a way to get one to keep you out till the evening, while the other rushes to get everything set up

I hope this isn't too detailed/unclear?? Tysm anyway if you write this!! I love your blog a lot <3

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ anniversary surprise,

summary. dean wants to do something special for your anniversary

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 963

notes. though i would also see sam doing something like this, it just screamed like dean behaviour. he's the softess little thing to me ‹𝟹

The bunker is unusually quiet for once—a rare luxury in the hunting life. After wrapping up a tough case yesterday, you've taken full advantage of the downtime. Still in your pyjamas, you've spent the day curled up on the couch with a book, refusing to even glance at your laptop.

Sam, however, hasn't been able to sit still. He keeps pacing the bunker, glancing at his phone like he's expecting bad news. It's distracting enough that you close your book and call him out.

"You trynna dig a hole in the ground or something, Sam? What's wrong?"

He freezes mid-step, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. "What? Nothing! I'm fine."

You squint at him, unconvinced. “Sam, if you’re trying to avoid telling me about a case, just spit it out. I’m not leaving this bunker today unless something’s on fire.”

He stammers for a moment, clearly scrambling for an excuse. Then, his eyes light up like he's just had an idea. Oh, boy. "Uh, there's this event in town. A... a book signing. By an author I like. I thought it might be interesting, but I, uh, don't wanna go alone."

The confession catches you off guard. "A book signing?"

"Yeah," he says quickly, nodding like it's the most logical thing in the world.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. Sam Winchester, shy about attending a book event? It doesn't quite add up, but you decide to let it slide.

You glance toward Dean, who's pretending to be engulfed in his phone and beer, but is clearly eavesdropping. He doesn't even look up, clearly uninterested.

"Alright, Sam," you say with a sigh. "I'll go with you."

Relief washes over his face, making the situation even more weird. "Great! Thanks."

The book signing ends up being more enjoyable than you expected. Sam is in his element, geeking out over the author’s latest release and chatting animatedly with other fans. You find yourself wandering through the bookstore, skimming through titles and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.

Afterward, you grab coffee at a nearby café, the conversation flowing easily as you and Sam talk about everything and nothing. It’s a rare, peaceful moment—one you don’t take for granted.

By the time you return to the bunker, the sun has long since set, and the air carries a cool, crisp chill. Sam walks ahead, fishing in his pocket for the keys.

“Shoot,” he says suddenly, patting his jacket. “I think I left something in the Impala.”

You shrug, already halfway to the door. “Alright. I’ll meet you inside.”

The moment you step through the door, you stop in your tracks.

Rose petals are scattered on the floor, forming a delicate path that leads toward the kitchen. Soft, flickering candlelight spills into the hallway, and the faint scent of your favorite meal wafts through the air.

“Dean?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly.

“Over here,” he replies, his voice warm and inviting.

You follow the trail, your heart pounding in your chest. When you step into the kitchen, you’re met with a sight that takes your breath away.

The table is covered with a white cloth, set with actual plates and silverware instead of the usual mismatched collection. Candles are arranged in the center, their golden light casting a romantic glow over the room. Your favourite store-bought meal sits neatly plated, steam rising in the air.

Dean is leaning casually against the counter, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. He’s wearing a button-up shirt instead of his usual flannel, the effort not lost on you.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he says softly.

Your stomach drops as guilt washes over you. You completely forgot.

“Dean,” you whisper, your eyes welling up. “I… I didn’t—”

“Hey,” he interrupts, pushing off the counter and walking toward you. He cups your face gently in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy. This is my gift to you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you stare up at him, his green eyes filled with nothing but love and understanding. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m the lucky one to have you.”

You bite your lip, emotion threatening to overwhelm you, but Dean tugs you toward the table before it can. “Come on. Dinner’s getting cold.”

The meal is perfect, just like everything Dean does when he puts his mind to it. Between bites, you and Dean fall into easy conversation, laughter punctuating the air as you recount memories from the past year. The stress of the world melts away, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

After dinner, Dean takes your hand and leads you down the hallway. When he opens the door to your bedroom, your jaw drops.

The room is softly lit with more candles, their gentle glow highlighting a small table set up in the corner. A rich chocolate cake sits in the center, accompanied by a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The bed looks impossibly inviting, piled high with plush pillows and fresh sheets.

“You really outdid yourself,” you murmur, turning to him with wide eyes.

He shrugs, but the pleased grin on his face betrays his pride. “Only the best for my girl.”

Your heart swells as you step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too,” he says, leaning down to kiss you.

The rest of the night is spent wrapped in Dean’s love and care, the perfect celebration of the life you’ve built together. For once, the world outside doesn’t matter—all that does is the warmth of his arms and the steady beat of his heart.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas

[jhyoos]

Rebel Girl

rockstar!sevika x influencer!reader

Chapter 6: Ex’s and Ohs

summary : you get invited to a big party downtown Vegas by a well-known celebrity. you decide to bring along the others.

mentions: modern au, fame au, drama, swearing, protective sevika, ex finn, overall finn just being a weirdo

notes: surprise! extra chapter. 🤭

The next morning, you woke up groggy but determined to stick to your usual routine—it was the only thing grounding you in the midst of all this chaos. You started with your hour-long shower, letting the water cascade over you as you tried to clear your head. Afterward, you brushed your teeth, meticulously went through your 30-minute skincare routine, and finished with a combination of lotion and baby oil that left your skin glowing. By the time you slipped into your classic baby tee and pajama pants combo, you felt like a semblance of yourself again.

Just as you were finishing up, a knock at the door interrupted your moment of peace. You padded over and opened it to find Vi and Jinx standing there, both with wide grins on their faces.

“Good morning,” you greeted them, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” Vi replied, her tone casual but warm. “We were wondering if you wanted to join us for breakfast in the lobby. Haven’t heard from you all night, so we missed you.”

Jinx nodded enthusiastically, her wild blue hair bouncing with the movement. “Yeah, it’s not the same without you. You’ve got the best ideas, and we could really use your input.”

You gave them a small smile, appreciating the effort. “Oh yeah, sure. Just let me grab my stuff.”

Turning back into the room, you grabbed your phone and the bag with your hotel key, then followed them downstairs.

-

The lobby was bustling with activity, the smell of coffee and freshly cooked food wafting through the air. You were immediately struck by how awkward it felt as you approached the table and realized you’d have to sit next to Sevika. The tension between the two of you was palpable, but you pushed through it, plastering a neutral expression on your face as you took your seat.

Jinx, thankfully, was a great buffer, sitting on your other side and diving straight into conversation. “So, I was thinking we could do a retro-style drop for the merch—like 90s grunge but with neon accents,” she said, sliding her sketchbook toward you.

You leaned over to take a look, nodding thoughtfully as you offered suggestions. “What if you use a distressed font for the band name? And maybe incorporate some holographic details for the logos?”

Jinx’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s genius!”

Meanwhile, Vi and Caitlyn sat across the table, deep in their own conversation but occasionally looping Sevika in. You could feel Sevika’s presence beside you, her warmth, her voice, the occasional brush of her arm against yours. It was distracting, and you hated how much you noticed it.

The awkwardness shattered when your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced down and gasped, immediately catching everyone’s attention.

“Who is it?” Vi asked, curious.

You didn’t answer, too busy staring at the name on your screen. It was a call from Jayce Talis, the wildly popular YouTuber you had collaborated with a few months back. He was connected to every celebrity, constantly attending the biggest parties, events, and concerts, and making millions while doing it.

“Hello?” you answered, hoping and praying it was actually him.

“Hey, there’s my favorite girl,” Jayce’s smooth voice came through the phone. “I heard you’re in Vegas. You wanna come by one of my parties tonight? I’ll send you the address.”

You bit your lip, your mind racing as you looked at the others seated around the table. “Is it okay if four other people come?” you asked, feeling a flicker of hope.

“Sure, the more the merrier. I’ll send the location now,” Jayce said, his tone easygoing.

“Thank you so much,” you replied, genuinely grateful.

“Of course, babygirl. I’ll see you later,” he said before hanging up.

You placed your phone on the table, noticing everyone staring at you expectantly.

“Who was that?” Caitlyn asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Jayce Talis,” you said with a grin. “We’re invited to one of his parties tonight.”

“Deadass?” Vi’s eyes widened as she leaned forward. “Oh, fuck yeah. I heard his parties are crazy. So crazy you don’t even remember the next morning… no diddy.”

The table broke into laughter, the tension momentarily forgotten as everyone began buzzing with excitement over the plans for the night.

That evening, the hotel suite was a whirlwind of chaos as everyone prepared for the party. Clothes were scattered across the beds, makeup spilled across the countertops, and the music blasted loud enough to vibrate through the walls.

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your outfit—a short, sleek black dress with a daring slit up the side, paired with strappy heels that gave you an air of elegance. Your makeup was bold, smoky eyes with a hint of glitter and a deep red lip that made you feel confident. You finished the look with silver jewelry, your hair styled in loose waves that framed your face perfectly.

Caitlyn, ever the meticulous one, walked over and handed you a glass of wine. “You look stunning. Jayce is going to regret not staying on that call longer,” she teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You laughed, taking a sip. “Thanks, Cait. But this isn’t about Jayce. It’s about having fun.”

She smirked. “Well, if Sevika sees you like this, she might eat her words about not being serious.”

Your stomach churned at the mention of Sevika, but you quickly pushed the thought aside. Tonight was supposed to be about letting loose, not dwelling on unrequited feelings.

Meanwhile, Vi and Jinx were already well into the pregame phase, laughing hysterically as they downed shots of tequila. Vi was in a leather jacket and ripped jeans, her go-to look, while Jinx had gone all out in a neon mini dress that screamed chaos. Sevika, on the other hand, had kept it simple yet devastatingly attractive—a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, paired with dark jeans and boots.

-

By the time you all arrived at the party, the energy was electric. Jayce’s mansion was everything you’d expected—luxurious, sprawling, and filled with people who looked like they belonged on magazine covers. The music thumped through the walls, a mix of EDM and Top 40 hits, as the group made their way inside.

The night quickly spiraled into drinking games, loud conversations, and dancing. Vi and Jinx had disappeared to the dance floor, while Caitlyn stayed by your side, sipping a cocktail and making small talk with other guests. You were about to join the others when you spotted Sevika across the room.

She was leaning against the bar, her posture relaxed, a drink in hand as she talked to two women who were clearly vying for her attention. One of them rested a hand on her arm, leaning in closer, and you felt your stomach twist.

Your heart sank as Sevika gave a low chuckle, her lips curling into that smirk you hated to love. She wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was flirting.

Caitlyn noticed the shift in your expression and followed your gaze. “Oh no,” she muttered, quickly grabbing your arm. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

You tried to pull away. “I just need to—”

“No, you don’t,” Caitlyn interrupted firmly, steering you toward another part of the room. “Come on, let’s get another drink and find something else to focus on.”

Reluctantly, you let her guide you away, but the image of Sevika laughing with those women was burned into your mind. You hated the way it made you feel—jealous, insecure, and foolish. You took a deep breath, silently vowing not to let it ruin your night.

Caitlyn handed you a fresh cocktail and gave you a reassuring smile. “Remember, you’re here to have fun. Don’t let her get in your head.”

You nodded, forcing a smile as you raised your glass. “You’re right. Cheers to that.”

But even as you tried to lose yourself in the party, the nagging ache in your chest remained, a constant reminder that Sevika would never be yours in the way you wanted her to be.

The party was in full swing, and the energy was electric. You and Caitlyn had thrown caution to the wind, taking more shots than either of you probably should have. The alcohol coursed through your veins, making everything brighter, louder, and a little more carefree.

Caitlyn, who rarely let loose like this, was surprisingly keeping up with you. The two of you sang along to every song blasting through the speakers, laughing as you tried to out-dance one another. At one point, Caitlyn leaned in close, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

"I think... I think I'm gonna confess to Vi," she blurted out, a mixture of determination and nerves in her eyes.

You paused, blinking at her before breaking into a wide grin. “Do it! You absolutely should! She’d be crazy not to say yes.”

Caitlyn laughed, shaking her head. “This might just be the liquor talking, but I think tonight’s the night.”

You gave her an encouraging push toward where Vi was standing, chatting with some other guests. “Go get her, tiger!”

Caitlyn took a deep breath, muttered something under her breath, and walked off, leaving you alone in the middle of the dance floor. But you didn’t mind. The music was too good, the vibe too perfect.

You found yourself dancing with a group of girls who had gathered nearby, all hyping each other up. You laughed, twirling in your dress, feeling freer than you had in weeks. The bass of the music vibrated through your body, and for a moment, you forgot all about Sevika, Jayce, and everything else weighing on your mind.

Then a finger tapped your shoulder, breaking the spell.

You turned, expecting to see Caitlyn or maybe even one of the girls you'd been dancing with. Instead, your breath hitched as your eyes landed on a familiar face.

“Finn?” you said, your voice laced with disbelief.

He gave you that same charming smirk that had once made your heart flutter. “Hey, gorgeous. What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here in Vegas?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“I got invited,” he said casually, his voice smooth.

You knew why. Finn wasn’t just any guy; he was a famous actor. His rugged looks and effortless charisma made him a perfect fit for the action and sci-fi movies he starred in. He was always the center of attention, always in the spotlight.

And once, you had been right there with him.

The two of you had been a celebrity power couple. Fans adored how well you matched—your aesthetics, your energy. Everything about your relationship had seemed perfect. And for a while, it had been.

The sex, the lavish dates, the way he spoiled you… it was like living in a dream.

Until the dream turned into a nightmare.

Your chest tightened as the memories came flooding back. Coming to his house to pick up the dog you had adopted together, only to find him in bed with one of his co-stars. The shock, the betrayal, the fury that had led you to throw hands with both of them.

And then, the final blow—him kicking you out of his house in the middle of a storm, leaving you stranded in the pouring rain.

As if that wasn’t enough, you later learned she hadn’t been the only one. Finn had cheated on you with multiple women, and to top it off, he had even stolen money from you on more than one occasion.

Now, standing face to face with him again, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions—anger, hurt, and a flicker of something you didn’t want to admit might still be there.

“What do you want, Finn?” you asked, keeping your tone cold.

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Can’t I just say hi? It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” you muttered, turning away, but he caught your arm gently, pulling you back.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he said, his voice soft. “I’ve missed you.”

You stared at him, your jaw tightening. “Missed me? Is that what you told all the other girls too?”

Finn’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something almost resembling regret. “Look, I know I messed up. But maybe we can talk? Somewhere private?”

Before you could respond, you felt a firm hand on your back. Turning, you saw Caitlyn, her expression a mix of concern and warning.

“Everything okay here?” she asked, her eyes narrowing at Finn.

You shook your head, stepping back from him. “Yeah, we’re done here.”

Finn raised his hands in mock surrender, giving Caitlyn a once-over before meeting your eyes again. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But think about it, okay?”

As he walked away, Caitlyn gave you a look. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, though your hands were trembling. “Yeah. Let’s just… get another drink.”

Caitlyn hesitated but eventually nodded, steering you toward the bar. You couldn’t shake the feeling of Finn’s gaze lingering on you, but you pushed it to the back of your mind.

Tonight was supposed to be about fun. You weren’t going to let him ruin that for you. Not again.

The chaotic haze of drinking and partying had left you feeling a little too hot under the collar—agitated, restless, and desperately in need of a moment to yourself. You stumbled your way through the crowd, searching for Jayce. The booming bass of the music thumped in your chest as you finally spotted him perched on top of an expensive-looking table, holding court with a group of people.

“Jayce!” you called, your voice cutting through the noise.

He turned at the sound of your voice, and his face broke into a wide grin. Without hesitation, he hopped down from the table, his movement surprisingly smooth for someone as drunk as he seemed.

“Jesus,” he said, running his eyes over you in a way that made you simultaneously flattered and exhausted. “You look even better than the last time I saw you.”

He pulled you into a warm hug, and you hugged him back, patting his shoulder lightly. Jayce had always been like this—overly confident and unfiltered—but you knew his heart was in the right place.

“Thanks, Jayce,” you said, stepping back. “But, um… where’s the bathroom?”

He waved a hand toward the far corner of the room. “Oh, don’t bother with the public one. Just use mine. It’s upstairs, connected to my suite. See the elevator over there? It’ll take you directly up. My guard will let you in.”

You nodded, grateful for the shortcut. “Thanks, Jayce.”

“No problem,” he said with a wink, before climbing back onto the table.

You made your way to the elevator, a burly security guard already waiting by the doors. Without a word, he pressed the button for you and gave you a curt nod as the doors slid shut.

The ride up was quick, and you were relieved to find Jayce’s suite quiet compared to the chaos downstairs. You stumbled into the bathroom, kicking off your heels as you rushed to relieve yourself. In your slightly drunk state, you didn’t even think to lock the door.

After finishing, you washed your hands, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your mascara was slightly smudged, and your hair was a little messier than you’d like, but otherwise, you looked… fine. Passable.

The sound of the door opening behind you made your stomach drop. You glanced up into the mirror, your heart sinking as you saw Finn standing there.

“Please, baby, let’s talk,” he said, his voice low and pleading.

You turned to face him, keeping your tone firm. “I’m good, Finn. There’s nothing to talk about.”

As you tried to brush past him, he grabbed you by the waist, his strength keeping you in place as he pressed you back against the wall.

“God, you look so sexy,” he murmured, his eyes dark and focused entirely on you. “Just let me get a kiss. I’ve missed your lips so much.”

Before you could protest, his hand was on your face, tilting it up toward him. You struggled against him, trying to push him away, but he was faster. His lips crashed onto yours, stealing the kiss before you could stop him.

Your mind raced, equal parts shock and anger bubbling to the surface as you fought against his grip. You planted your hands on his chest, shoving him back with as much strength as you could muster.

“Get off me!” you yelled, your voice sharp and trembling.

Finn stumbled back slightly, his expression flickering between surprise and frustration.

“Don’t act like you don’t still want me,” he said, his voice dropping into something darker.

“I don’t,” you spat, your chest heaving. “Stay the hell away from me, Finn. I mean it.”

Before he could say another word, you darted out of the bathroom, grabbing your heels as you made your way back to the elevator. Your hands shook as you pressed the button, praying the doors would close fast enough to keep Finn from following.

When you finally made it back to the party downstairs, your heart was still pounding. The noise of the crowd was both overwhelming and oddly comforting—it meant you weren’t alone. You immediately searched for Caitlyn or anyone you trusted, needing an anchor after what had just happened.

Finn’s presence had ruined the night for you. All you wanted now was to find a quiet corner, breathe, and maybe—just maybe—figure out how to piece yourself back together.

As you made your way back onto the party floor, the noise and flashing lights felt like a cruel reminder of your shaken state. Your heels clicked against the floor as your eyes scanned the crowd, desperately searching for a familiar face. You weren’t thinking much—just running on the hope that someone you trusted could pull you out of the spiral you were sinking into.

Your gaze finally landed on Sevika. She was leaning against the bar, her focus on a small group of girls, flashing them the kind of smirk that had once made your knees weak. Her hand brushed against one of their arms as she leaned in to say something that made them giggle.

For a moment, you hesitated. But then Sevika looked up, her sharp eyes locking onto yours. The instant she noticed the tears streaming down your face, her expression changed. The playful confidence melted away, replaced with concern and something else—something almost protective.

She straightened up immediately, excusing herself from the girls without another word. Her strides were long and purposeful as she closed the distance between you, her brows furrowed.

“Come on,” she said softly, slipping her hand onto your back to guide you. She led you out of the suffocating crowd and into the night air. The quiet of the outdoors was a stark contrast to the chaos inside, and you took in a shaky breath, grateful for the reprieve.

“Hey,” Sevika said, her voice low but insistent. She turned to face you, her hands gently gripping your shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I-I…” You tried to form the words, but they caught in your throat, choked by the sobs you couldn’t hold back.

Sevika crouched slightly, trying to meet your downcast gaze. “Take your time. Just tell me.”

You swallowed hard, finally managing to get the words out. “My ex… he…”

Her jaw clenched immediately. “What did he do? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you? Where did it happen?”

The barrage of questions came quickly, her tone growing harsher with every word. You squeezed your eyes shut, the memories flashing in your mind. “He kissed me,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling. “He made me kiss him.”

Her face darkened instantly, her entire demeanor shifting into something cold and deadly. “What does he look like? What’s his name?”

“Finn,” you said, your voice cracking. “He’s tall, has tattoos everywhere… He’s wearing bright yellow…”

You stopped yourself mid-ramble, suddenly realizing how Sevika’s fists had clenched at her sides, her whole body taut with anger. “Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she muttered, her voice low and venomous. It wasn’t meant for you, but she said it loud enough for you to hear.

Her words sent a shiver down your spine. “Sevika, no,” you said, reaching out to grab her arm.

Her gaze snapped to yours, her eyes burning with a fury you’d never seen before. “He forced himself on you,” she said, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “You think I’m just gonna let that slide?”

“You can’t,” you insisted, your voice rising. “It’s not worth it.”

“It’s worth it to me,” she shot back, her tone firm and unrelenting.

You shook your head, tears spilling again as you tried to pull her attention back to you. “Please, Sevika. Don’t do this. I just… I just need someone right now. Not revenge.”

Her shoulders dropped slightly, and for the first time, she seemed to really see you—the vulnerability, the pain. She let out a slow, shaky breath, her jaw still tight. “Okay,” she finally said, her voice softer now. “Okay. I won’t do anything. Not tonight.”

Relief flooded through you, and you took a small step closer, resting your head against her chest. She hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around you, holding you tightly.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice low. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

You didn’t respond, just letting her presence ground you. For now, that was enough.

As Sevika comforted you, the quiet moment shattered when Finn stormed outside, his face twisted in anger. His voice slurred slightly, but his venom was crystal clear.

“You’re such a fucking whore, you know that?” he spat, his voice loud enough to draw attention.

Your head snapped toward him in shock, but before you could react, Sevika stepped in front of you. She squared her shoulders, shielding you entirely. Her voice was low and steady, but there was an edge to it that could cut steel.

“What did you just call her?” she asked, her mechanical arm twitching subtly as she balled her fists.

“A whore!” Finn shouted, stepping closer with an unhinged glare. “Up in the bathroom, playing hard to get, and now you’re cuddled up with some dyke?!”

“Chill,” Sevika warned, her voice dropping further, calm but laced with a deadly undertone.

“Chill?” Finn scoffed, his eyes wide with deranged fury. “Bitch, I’ll knock the teeth out of your mouth. I’ll make the rest of your life a living hell.” He took another step closer, now chest-to-chest with Sevika.

Sevika didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, giving him a slow once-over before smirking coldly. “Jesus… You dated this man? He’s pathetic.”

Before you could react to the insult, Finn’s fist flew. The sound of his knuckles connecting with Sevika’s cheek was loud enough to silence the faint chatter nearby. She stumbled back a step, more out of shock than pain, her face blank as she brought her hand to her cheek.

Then her expression changed. Fury washed over her features, her jaw tightening as she rolled her shoulders. Without another word, she swung her mechanical fist, and the sound of the impact echoed like a thunderclap. Finn crumpled instantly, hitting the ground like a sack of bricks.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. Your hand gripped the wall to steady yourself as you stared at the scene, trying to process if this was reality or some drunken fever dream.

Sevika turned to look at you, her breathing even but her eyes searching your face for any sign of distress. You couldn’t move, too stunned to even speak.

The muffled noise of the party behind you suddenly grew louder as someone yelled, “There’s a fight outside!” The doors burst open, and a flood of people poured out to see what had happened. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd as everyone’s eyes landed on Finn’s unconscious body sprawled at Sevika’s feet.

Jayce pushed his way through the crowd, his sunglasses perched on his nose but failing to hide his wide-eyed reaction. “Oh shit,” he muttered, looking down at Finn before glancing back at Sevika. “Is he dead? I can’t afford another death…”

Sevika didn’t answer, her gaze flicking to you briefly before focusing back on the crowd.

“He’s not dead,” you said, your voice shaky but loud enough to silence the murmurs. You stepped forward, your hand trembling as you gestured toward Finn. “But he forced himself on me in the bathroom you said was guarded, Jayce.”

Jayce’s head snapped toward you, his sunglasses lifting slightly as if he needed to see you more clearly. “For real?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I swear I’ll look deeper into this. I mean it. I’ll take your word for it—always. You’re my girl.”

He gestured toward his security team, who immediately moved to pick Finn up. “Get him out of here,” Jayce barked. “And make sure he doesn’t come back. Ever.”

As the guards dragged Finn’s limp body away, the crowd began to disperse, murmuring among themselves. Jayce gave you a small nod before heading back inside, leaving you alone with Sevika again.

She turned to you, her eyes softening ever so slightly. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice calm but tinged with something that sounded almost like regret.

You nodded, even though your legs felt weak beneath you. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

Sevika stepped closer, her presence grounding you as she placed a hand gently on your arm. “You’re safe now,” she said, her tone firm. “No one’s going to hurt you while I’m here.”

For a moment, you just stood there, letting her words sink in. You didn’t know how to feel—grateful, overwhelmed, or still shaken—but you knew one thing for certain: you felt safer with Sevika than anywhere else in the world.

Caitlyn, Vi, and Jinx rushed through the lingering crowd, their worried faces evident as they reached you and Sevika. Caitlyn was the first to speak, her eyes darting between the two of you.

“You okay… both of you?” she asked, her tone a mix of concern and urgency.

Sevika crossed her arms, her usual stoic demeanor back in place. “Yes, I’m fine, Cait,” she replied simply.

You nodded, though your voice wavered slightly. “I am too. Just… a little shaken up.”

Jinx stepped forward, her usual chaotic energy muted but still present. “It’s time to go… yeah?” she said, her voice lighter as she hooked her arm with yours. Without waiting for an answer, she started leading you toward the exit, offering you the comfort of her presence.

Vi and Caitlyn flanked the two of you, and Sevika trailed slightly behind, her sharp gaze scanning the remaining partygoers as if daring anyone else to cross the line. The group moved quickly through the mansion, the buzz of the party now a distant hum as more people decided to leave after the commotion.

The cool night air hit you like a splash of water as you stepped outside. The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and the city’s noise provided a welcome distraction from your pounding heart. Jinx kept her arm linked with yours, humming softly to a song still stuck in her head.

Caitlyn glanced back at Sevika, lowering her voice so only she could hear. “You did good back there. He had it coming.”

Sevika grunted in response, but there was a subtle nod of acknowledgment.

As the group exited the mansion and approached the gates, the blinding flashes of cameras caught you off guard. Paparazzi were already gathered outside, shouting questions and taking rapid-fire photos. The flashes lit up the night like fireworks, and their voices overlapped, each trying to out-yell the others.

“(Y/N)! What happened in there?”

“Who was the guy Sevika knocked out?”

“Sevika, are you protecting (Y/N)?”

“Are you two dating?”

“Finn said you were in a relationship—care to comment?”

You instinctively shrank back, overwhelmed by the chaos. Jinx tightened her grip on your arm, glaring at the reporters. “Seriously, don’t you guys have anything better to do?”

Caitlyn stepped forward, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the flashes as she tried to create a path. “No comments. Leave her alone.”

Vi moved beside her, her presence intimidating enough to make some of the paparazzi take a step back. “You heard her. Back off,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Sevika stayed close to you, her tall frame a protective barrier against the invasive crowd. Her sharp gaze flicked over the reporters, daring any of them to push further.

“Sevika, is it true you assaulted Finn?” one of them shouted.

“Shut it,” Sevika growled, her voice low and threatening. The reporter quickly lowered his camera, the air suddenly tense.

The group finally pushed through the throng of paparazzi, with Vi leading the way and Caitlyn acting as a buffer. You kept your head down, your heart pounding as the cameras continued to snap.

Once inside the car, the driver quickly locked the doors and sped off, leaving the chaos behind. You exhaled deeply, leaning back against the seat as you tried to calm your racing thoughts.

“God, they’re vultures,” Jinx muttered, shaking her head. “Do they ever give it a rest?”

“They’ll move on to something else by tomorrow,” Caitlyn said reassuringly, though her brows were furrowed with concern.

Sevika remained silent, her gaze fixed out the window. Her jaw was tight, and her hands were clenched into fists on her lap. She looked like she was replaying the night in her head, simmering with barely contained anger.

Vi broke the silence, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “You okay? That was a lot.”

You nodded slowly, though your voice was quiet. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

Jinx gave your arm a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry, we’ll lock the doors, crank up the room service, and shut out the world for the rest of the night.”

You managed a faint smile, grateful for her attempts to lighten the mood. As the car sped through the neon-lit streets of Vegas, you couldn’t help but glance at Sevika. She was still staring out the window, her expression unreadable.

For now, you focused on the promise of quiet and comfort waiting back at the hotel, desperate to put the night’s events behind you.

Back at the hotel, the group gathered in Caitlyn and Vi’s room, the tension from earlier slowly melting away as the comforting smell of food filled the air. The table was covered with an assortment of takeout boxes—sushi rolls neatly arranged, crispy chicken wings glistening in sauce, golden fries piled high, and several tubs of ice cream waiting for dessert.

Jinx immediately dove for the fries, her mood lightening as she munched away. “This is exactly what we needed after all that drama.”

Caitlyn and Vi sat close together on the couch, their shoulders brushing as they shared a plate of wings. Caitlyn had a small, nervous smile on her face, stealing glances at Vi, who seemed completely at ease.

You took a seat on the floor, cross-legged with your sushi in front of you, watching the dynamic between Caitlyn and Vi unfold. Jinx noticed too, her eyes darting between them. “So… are you two gonna stop pretending or what?”

Vi choked on her drink, coughing as Caitlyn’s face turned beet red. “Pretending what?” Vi asked, wiping her mouth.

Jinx rolled her eyes dramatically. “That you’re not into each other. It’s so obvious.”

Caitlyn bit her lip, looking down at her hands. Vi glanced at her and then back at Jinx, sighing. “Fine. You caught us.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened in surprise, but when Vi reached over and took her hand, her expression softened. “She was drunk, but I still accepted,” Vi said, her voice low but sincere.

Caitlyn smiled, squeezing her hand. “I asked Vi to be my girlfriend,” she admitted.

You clapped your hands together. “Finally! I’ve been rooting for you two since forever.”

Jinx leaned back, grinning smugly. “Told you so. Now kiss or something. Make it official.”

Vi rolled her eyes but leaned in to kiss Caitlyn, a soft, tender moment that made everyone cheer and clap beside Sevika but she was amused. Caitlyn laughed, hiding her face behind her hands as Vi pulled her close.

The rest of the night passed in a warm, comforting haze. Laughter echoed through the room, and everyone indulged in food and ice cream, the stress of the evening melting away.

When the night wound down, Sevika stood, stretching. “I’ll walk you back to your room,” she said, glancing at you.

You nodded, feeling a flutter of nerves. “Thanks.”

The two of you walked down the quiet hallway, the sounds of the city fading into the background. When you reached your door, you turned to her. “Thank you for tonight,” you said softly. “For protecting me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Sevika shrugged, but her expression softened. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

Trying to lighten the mood, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Well, I’m thanking you anyway.”

Sevika froze for a moment, her lips twitching into a faint smile as she nodded. “Goodnight.”

She turned and walked away, leaving you to enter your room. You closed the door, leaning against it for a moment as your heart raced. Shaking your head, you got into bed, pulling the covers up and letting the exhaustion of the night finally take over.

But just as you were about to drift off, a knock on the door startled you. You got up, wondering who it could be at this hour. When you opened it, Sevika stood there, her eyes intense and her expression unreadable.

“Sevika? Is something wrong?”

She hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer. “Fuck it… I have feelings for you too,” she said, her voice low and rough.

Before you could process her words, she leaned in and kissed you deeply, her hands gently cradling your face. The kiss was firm yet tender, filled with all the emotions she’d been holding back. You didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, your arms wrapping around her neck as your heart raced.

Sevika’s hands slid down to your waist, steadying you as she broke the kiss for just a moment, her forehead resting against yours. “Is this okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded eagerly, pulling her closer. “More than okay.”

She smiled before kissing you again, this time with more urgency. Her hands moved to the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and tossing it to the floor. You felt a thrill run through you as you tugged her into the room, your lips never leaving hers.

Sevika kicked the door shut behind her, the soft click of the lock echoing in the room. The night stretched out before you, a mix of passion and emotions that neither of you wanted to end.

taglist : @moodient @whatlefoop @nonexistentsourcherry @graciebloom @swordfemm4 @m00npjm @sevikasleftarm @fayecreates @artfairyyyyy @mulan-but-gay @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @sapphiellar @fudosl

[overrboarrd]

UNBREAK MY HEART [ from scratch pt. iii ]

a/n: i’m not jinxing myself no more y’all. every time i say ima post something, i get super busy and it gets pushed back a whole week. so here’s part 4, it’s just as tense as the last part so pls don’t hate me <3

warnings: angstt

"un-break my heart , say you'll love me again undo this hurt you caused when you walked out the door and walked out of my life"

“You look like hell, uce,” Jon finally broke the empty silence that filled his living room.

Joe sat on the edge of Jon’s couch, staring blankly at the bottle of beer in his hand. The condensation dripped down onto his palm, cold and unrelenting, but it was nothing compared to the storm raging in his chest. He hadn’t planned to come here, but the quiet echoes of his own house had been unbearable. Jon’s place, noisy with the distant sound of his kids playing in the backyard, at least gave him the illusion of calm. He huffed out a laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Thanks. That’s exactly what I came to hear.” Joe leaned back. The television played some highlights of last night’s football game, but neither of them paid much attention.

Jon sat in the armchair beside him, his sharp gaze pinned on his cousin. He didn’t push, not yet, but Joe knew the look. It was the same one Jon gave him when they were kids, back when Joe had tried to hide bruises he got from football practice. The look that said Jon could see right through him.

“What’s goin on?”

“Nothing.” Joe shrugged, taking a slow sip of his beer and keeping his gaze fixed on the bottle.

“Bullshit.” Jon’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a challenge.

Joe clenched his jaw. “It’s just the rehab.”

Jon’s brow lifted. “The rehab? Or Camille?”

At her name, Joe’s stomach twisted, and the beer suddenly tasted bitter. He set the bottle down on the coffee table with a thud, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, too bad,” Jon said, unfazed. “You’re here, which means you do wanna talk about it. You just don’t know how to start.”

Joe’s head snapped up, anger flaring in his chest. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

Jon shrugged. “I’ve known you your whole life. You bottle everything up, uce. Always have. You keep stuffing things down until they explode. And when they do, you the one left pickin up the pieces.”

Joe scoffed, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s better that way. Some things don’t need to be talked about.”

“Like Camille?” Jon pressed.

Joe glared at him, his jaw tightening. “You don’t get it.”

“Then make me get it,” Jon said, his tone softening as his posture straightened. “Come on, Joe. What’s really goin on?”

For a moment, Joe said nothing. He stared at the wall, his mind a whirlwind of emotions he didn’t want to feel. The lime-washed wall blurred in his mind, replaced by Camille’s face—the tension in her jaw when she was focused, the way her voice softened just enough when she thought he was in pain.

But he let the words come, sharp and raw, cutting through the silence.

“Seeing her every day is like ripping open a wound that won’t heal,” he said, his voice low and strained. “She’s right there, just trying to fix my shoulder like… like none of it even mattered. Like I didn’t matter. Like she didn’t walk out on me without a damn word.”

Jon hummed, letting a beat pass before speaking. “You think that’s how she really feels?”

“I don’t know,” Joe snapped. “And honestly, I don’t care.” He leaned forward again, his hands gripping his knees. “I gave her everything, Jon. I didn’t hold anything back. I loved her, and she still left. And now she’s just…here. And I’m supposed to just… what? Pretend it didn’t happen? Pretend I’m not still pissed as hell that she didn’t even give me a chance to fix whatever the hell went wrong?”

Jon leaned forward too, his expression serious. “So you gonna tell her all that? Or you just gonna carry it around, hoping she’ll figure it out on her own?”

Joe shook his head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “It wouldn’t matter, she still walked out of that rink. I fought for her, Jon. I fought like hell after that. What’s the point of trying to bring it up?”

“The point,” Jon said, his voice steady, “is that you still care. And don’t try to deny it, uce, ‘cause I can see it all over your face. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be this angry. You wouldn’t be here, venting to me.”

Joe’s chest tightened, and he looked away, his jaw clenching. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” Jon agreed. “But the thing is —you got a choice. You can keep holdin on to all this anger, or you can let yourself feel the other stuff too. The hurt, the love, the hope. Yeah, she left, but she’s here now. Don’t you think that might mean something?”

“The hell am I supposed to do about it now? Cause every time I see her, all I feel is this...mix of anger and—” He stopped, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I can’t do that shit again. I won’t.”

Jon sighed, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Look, I’m not sayin you shouldn’t protect yourself. But you’re not just protecting yourself—you’re shutting her out. And maybe she deserves that, maybe she doesn’t. Maybe you just gotta be honest with yourself and Cam. You got her in front of you again, uce. How many people get that kind of second chance? But if you don’t at least try to talk some of it out, you gonna regret it.”

The room fell quiet again, the weight of Jon’s words pressing on Joe’s chest. He didn’t respond, unable to find the right thing to say.

Jon stood, clapping a hand on Joe’s shoulder. As Jon walked back to the kitchen, Joe sat, staring at the condensation pooling on the coffee table. He hated that his cousin was right.

But knowing it and doing something about it were two very different things.

—---

Architect was unnervingly quiet, the kind of silence that wrapped around Joe like a vice, squeezing tight and leaving no room to breathe. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead only served to amplify the emptiness. He glanced at the clock on the far wall. 7:45 PM. The place had officially closed fifteen minutes ago, but he and Camille were still here. Alone.

She stood a few feet away, her back to him as she sanitized the treatment table. The sharp smell of cleaning solution filled the air, and her movements were mechanical, almost as if she were trying to avoid looking at him.

“Alright,” she said, her voice clipped as she turned to face him. “Let’s get started. We’ll do some stretches first, then work on the strengthening exercises.”

Joe nodded, the words sticking in his throat as he sat down on the edge of the table. His body ached, not from the rehab, but from the weight he’d been carrying since the moment she walked back into his life. Almost two full weeks of these sessions, of her being so close yet so distant, had worn him down to the raw nerve.

Camille reached for his arm, gently guiding it into position for the stretch. Her touch was clinical, but his skin burned where her fingers brushed against him, igniting a fire he’d been trying to smother since the day she’d left.

“Joe, relax your shoulder, you’re compensating with your back again.” she instructed, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before darting away.

“I got it,” He snapped, his tone sharper than intended.

Camille stepped back, swallowing the urge to bite back. Instead, she softened her voice. “I know you do. But this isn’t about pushing through pain, it’s about healing.”

Joe dropped his arm abruptly, the band snapping back as he let out a frustrated grunt. “Healing?” he said bitterly, his voice low but laced with anger. “You think this is healing? Having to sit here, day after day, while you pretend like nothing happened between us?”

Camille froze, the words slicing through the professional barrier she’d carefully maintained. “Pretending? Joe-”

“I’m not gonna put up with this!” he gestured between them. “This… act you been putting on for the past two weeks. Actin’ like we’re all good. Like you didn’t just walk out of my life without a saying anything.”

Her eyes widened as her face faltered slightly. “Joe, I’m here to help you with your recovery. That’s all.”

“Bullshit,” he shot back, sliding off the table. “You don’t just get to come back into my life and pretend like we’re strangers. You don’t get to act like what you did didn’t wreck me.”

“Can you just lis—”

“No,” he cut her off, creating some distance between them. His broad shoulders heaved as he turned to face her, his eyes blazing. “You don’t get to talk right now. I spent two years with you, Camille. Two years building a life, planning a future, only for you to rip it all away without even telling me why. Do you know how many nights I sat in that empty house, wondering what I did wrong? Wondering why I wasn’t enough for you?”

Her composure cracked, her lips trembling as she took a step back. “It wasn’t about you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then what was it about?” he demanded, his anger boiling over. “Because from where I was standing, it sure as hell felt like it was about me.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she blinked them away, straightening her shoulders. “You… you were everything to me, Joe. And that terrified me. I was scared of losing myself in you. I-I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“So you ran,” he said bitterly. “Instead of talking to me, instead of letting me in, you just left.”

“I didn’t know how to stay,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I was afraid I’d ruin everything. Afraid I’d ruin you.”

Joe laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Well, congratulations. You managed to do that anyway.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging between them. Camille’s tears finally spilled over, but she held his gaze, refusing to look away. “I know I hurt you. And I’ve hated myself for it every single day. But you were so sure of everything. Your career, your life, your love for me… I didn’t know how to keep up with that. I didn’t know how to be enough for you.”

Joe’s expression softened, though the hurt lingered in his eyes. “You were enough, Camille. You were always enough. But you didn’t even give me the chance to show you that. You didn’t trust me to handle your fears. You just left.”

Camille’s voice broke as she replied, “Because I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t think I deserved the kind of love you were offering. And by the time I realized I was wrong, it felt too late to come back.”

He'd figured this moment would come, but he hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. Joe turned away, running a hand over his face as he tried to calm the storm inside him. “I loved you, Camille. I still…” He stopped himself, his chest heaving. “I would’ve never given up on us like that. ”

“I know I made a mistake.” Her voice cracked again, and she quickly wiped at her tears. “And I never stopped loving you. I just—" Her voice rang in his ears, the rawness of her words made his chest tighten. “I don't know if it's too late, but I needed you to know that.”

Joe's eyes fell shut, his mind warring between anger and the yearning he’d tried to bury. Her confession hung in the air, vulnerable and raw like a blade against his skin, carving open old wounds he thought had scarred over. For so long, he had craved those words. In the sleepless nights when the silence was louder than his thoughts, in the moments when he reached for his phone only to remember there was no one waiting on the other end. He wanted to yell, to tell her she was too late, that the man she had left behind didn’t exist anymore. But the truth… the truth was that her absence had never stopped haunting him. He stood rigid, his emotions snarled in a web of anger, longing, and something dangerously close to hope.

Camille searched his face, her own filled with fragile hope and deep regret. "I’m not asking you to forgive me," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just asking for a chance to show you that I’m not the same person who left.”

“I don't trust you," he admitted, a long silence filled the room before he shook his head softly. "But I…I don’t know if I can let you go again, either.”

[writingxfootballl]

i wanna be the one (that makes your day) (jessie fleming x ucla!reader)

the part two to i'll be your biggest fan (and you'll be mine)

word count: 1407 ish

rating: F for fluffy

title- best friend by rex orange county

a/n: again, unedited. part of my fic dump. not guaranteed spelling errors and plot hole free

----

it’s been exactly one month since you left california for oxford.

and in that month, you’ve felt the full weight of the transition.

the chill of the english weather, the constant rush of new information, and the distinct absence of a certain messy-haired canadian soccer player.

you’d been so determined to focus on your studies, on the prestigious rhodes scholarship that had brought you here, that the thought of jessie—of her—had taken a backseat.

but that didn’t mean she was far from your mind. because she wasn’t.

she never really was.

it’s just that, here, in oxford, it felt… different.

the landscape was so vast, so old, the buildings so steeped in history. everything felt so distant, so foreign.

it wasn’t the kind of place where a casual coffee date or library study sessions felt possible.

but that didn’t stop you from wondering if you might see her again.

and then, one crisp morning, while you were walking across radcliffe square, there she was.

jessie fleming, on a freaking london bus, looking effortlessly beautiful in a puffer jacket and jeans.

you freeze in place, breath hitching, your heart skipping.

you hadn’t expected to see her in england, let alone in oxford, and definitely not in this exact moment.

the last time you saw her, she was standing on the bleachers in sunny california, asking you out on a date.

you had kissed her. it was perfect.

and then she had flown back to london for her training with chelsea.

you still have the little text you sent her: "thinking of you. hope practice is going well. "

it was cute. she replied with something equally sweet.

and then you both agreed that you’d keep in touch.

you hadn’t realized how much you'd missed her until this very moment.

you panic for a second, unsure what to do.

should you wave?

run over?

act cool and pretend you weren’t feeling a little lightheaded?

before you can decide, jessie’s eyes meet yours.

they soften immediately, her lips curling into that familiar smile, and just like that, you’re moving without thinking.

she’s already walking toward you, her boots tapping along the stone path, her hands shoved deep into her pockets.

“hey, y/n,” she says, her voice warm.

“fancy seeing you here.”

your heart swells.

“jessie! what—what are you doing here?”

“i think that’s my question for you,” she teases, stopping in front of you.

“i was just in london for training and thought i’d visit oxford for a bit. nice to see you’ve finally joined the world of us english folk.”

you laugh, trying to mask the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“i didn’t know you’d be here. i’m just, you know, studying. trying to become a fancy oxford student or whatever.”

“fancy, huh?”

jessie quirks an eyebrow.

“you look more like you belong in california than in england.”

“yeah, well, i don’t know if i’ll ever get used to the rain. or the weather, for that matter,” you say with a small, self-deprecating chuckle.

“i like it,” she shrugs, grinning.

“it’s cozy. but maybe that’s because i grew up with it.”

“right,” you mutter, glancing down at your boots and feeling suddenly nervous again.

“so what’s the plan? are you here for long?”

“nah, just a couple of days,” she says, looking around with interest.

“but i could always stay longer. what about you? got any plans for the day?”

you hesitate, thoughts running wild. “um, not really. just… studying. you know, the usual.”

jessie smiles knowingly, and before you can blink, she’s offering her arm to you.

“well, if you’re not doing anything, you want to come grab a coffee with me?”

you try to keep your cool.

“a coffee?” you repeat, almost disbelieving.

“as in, just us? hanging out?”

jessie tilts her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. “yeah, just us. no big deal.”

you’re pretty sure your heart is about to burst out of your chest, but you manage to nod, trying to hide the giddiness creeping up.

“sure, i’d love to.”

and so, the two of you stroll through the cobbled streets of oxford, coffee cups in hand, casually talking about everything and nothing.

the conversation flows effortlessly, like you’ve known each other for years, like time and space hadn’t really interrupted your connection.

“so how’s chelsea?” you ask, as you both take a seat on one of the benches overlooking the river.

“it’s been great,” she replies, looking genuinely happy.

“lots of training, a few matches here and there. and you? how’s oxford? is it everything you thought it’d be?”

you think for a moment.

“yeah. and no. i mean, it’s exactly what i expected academically, but i didn’t know how lonely it would feel sometimes. like, everyone’s so driven, and it’s kind of… overwhelming.”

jessie nods, her gaze softening.

“i get that. being away from home is hard, but you’re doing it, right? you’ve got this.”

you smile, warmed by her words.

“thanks, jessie. i appreciate that.”

“of course,” she replies, her voice gentle.

“besides, we’ve both got big things going on, right? you with the rhodes, me with the team... we’re kind of a power couple, if you think about it.”

you laugh, the sound coming out more nervous than you intend.

“power couple? is that what we are?”

jessie’s grin widens.

“why not?”

and for the rest of the afternoon, you both walk around oxford, talking about life, about what you miss, about your plans for the future.

the conversation flows with ease, like you’ve always been in each other’s orbit, like nothing has really changed.

by the time the sun begins to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and purple, jessie turns to you, her smile softening.

“i’m really glad we’re doing this,” she says quietly. “i’ve missed you.”

you swallow hard, your chest tightening.

“i’ve missed you too.”

“i mean it,” she continues.

“i know we’re both busy, and i know this whole long-distance thing isn’t easy, but... i want to see you more. when you’re free, come to london. i’ll show you around.”

the warmth in her words melts you completely.

“i’d love that,” you whisper. “i’d really love that.”

“good,” she says with a wink.

“because i’ve already got a few ideas for our next date.”

you laugh, your heart fluttering.

“a date, huh?”

jessie shrugs, looking casually cool.

“we did kind of kiss last time i checked, so i think it counts.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re grinning.

“you’re impossible, you know that?”

“yeah, i know,” she says with a laugh. “but you like me anyway.”

you shake your head, a playful smile on your lips.

“don’t get too cocky.”

“i’ll try,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

the sun dips below the horizon, and the night air grows cooler, but there’s something incredibly comforting about sitting here with jessie, knowing that the two of you have this connection that just keeps growing stronger.

~~

over the next few weeks, you and jessie stay in touch.

the long-distance thing isn’t easy, but it’s working.

you FaceTime when you can, send each other little messages of encouragement.

she’s training for her upcoming season with chelsea, and you’re buried in your studies, but the moments you do find to talk are the highlights of your day.

it’s strange, though, to think about how your life has shifted since that first meeting in the library back at ucla.

you’ve come so far, both of you, and yet somehow, despite the distance, you still feel that pull to her.

that connection you can’t quite explain, but you know is real.

jessie visits oxford a few more times, and each time feels like a new chapter in your relationship.

you go out for coffee, explore the city, and sneak in quiet moments in between your busy schedules.

with each visit, your feelings for her grow stronger, and you begin to wonder if this could really work—this thing between you two, despite everything.

one night, after a long week of work, you find yourself at your desk, scrolling through your messages when you see a new one from jessie.

"thinking about you. when’s the next time i get to see you? "

your heart skips.

you reply quickly: "soon. i’ll make it happen. i miss you."

she responds almost instantly: "me too. see you soon, love."

you grin, your heart swelling.

this? this was just the beginning.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Omfg your writing is so cute !! I already requested a couple times before but I just can’t help it

Sonic x reader that admires Shadow, But Sonic misunderstands this as reader having a crush on Shadow when reader just sees Shadow as a mysterious, cool role model, so this causes Sonic to try and compete and up throw Shadow in order to gain readers affection. Only for reader to confess to Sonic and him being confused like “i thought you liked Shadow???” And reader explains that they just admire him and look up to Shadow, but Sonics the one they actually like!

Sorry if this is hard to understand but take your time!

🐛

“The Wrong Idea”

Pairing(s): Jealous Sonic the Hedgehog x Reader, background Knuxadow/Shadknux (Knuckles x Shadow)

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Sonic the Hedgehog never got jealous! At least…that’s what he tells everybody. So why was it always that faker that made him feel this way?

Notes: Wooooo, request number seven (eight?- technically the eighth one I’m posting-)! And don’t feel bad for requesting multiple! I’m having fun writing these!

(Reader will be gender neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Sonic the Hedgehog never got jealous.

At least…that’s what he told everyone.

But right now, it seems like he wasn’t telling the truth.

He has no clue why, but every time he sees you chumming up with that faker, he gets jealous.

He knows it’s selfish, but he wants your eyes on him, not Shadow of all mobians.

Right now, you and Shadow were outside of Rose’s Bakery, Amy’s bakery that she set up with the help of Vanilla and Cream, eating sweets and drinking bubble tea.

Shadow had some kind of coffee-flavored one with tapioca bubbles (because of course he did), while you had a simple fruit tea with your favorite fruit-flavored bubbles.

…Not that he remembered your exact order each time you go to Rose’s…

Oh, who was he kidding. He had a massive crush on you but he was 90% sure you had a crush on the faker.

So all he had to do was one-up him, right?

Sonic zoomed off, paying for a bouquet of your favorite flowers, before zooming back over to where you and Shadow were, only to find you both gone.

His ears droop in disappointment, the flowers drooping as well in a sad yet funny irony.

“(That’s okay, that’s okay. You’ve just gotta catch ‘em next time!)” Sonic thinks to himself. “(It won’t be that hard! You’re the fastest thing alive after all!)”

The next time he sees you both, you’re on your way over to a movie theater, chatting on the way there.

Bingo!

“Hey [Name]! Shads! Good to see you guys!” Sonic says, zooming over to you both.

“Oh! Hey Sonic!” You say, waving at him with a warm smile on your face, one he always cherished.

“Sonic,” Shadow acknowledges. “What are you doing here?”

“Well sheesh, can’t a guy say hi to his friends without the suspicion??” Sonic asks. “Anyway! What are you guys up to?”

“[Name] offered to take me to see a movie in theaters, to have the “full Mobius experience,”” Shadow states, doing air quotes with his hands.

“Oh, sweet! Mind if I tag along?” Sonic asks.

“You sitting still in a theater for hours? Doubtful,” Shadow states.

“I can too sit still in a theater,” Sonic grumbles.

“Sure thing! Though, we are going to see a horror movie, just warning you in advance,” you tell Sonic.

He makes a “Pshhh!” sound, waving you off.

“Puh-lease! Horror is my middle name!” Sonic states.

“I thought it was Maurice-” you start, only for Sonic to take your hand in his, gently pulling you along.

“C’mon! We wanna get the best seats!” Sonic states.

Boy, was Sonic not prepared for this movie. Luckily (or maybe not so luckily, he hated seeing you scared), you weren’t, either, with you and Sonic clinging onto each other every time there was a scary scene.

When you all exited the theater, you were still slightly shaking.

“R-Remind me not to trust movies with holiday names in them anymore…” you mutter.

“You did say it was gonna be scary, [Nickname].” Sonic tells you.

“Would you like me to take you home?” Shadow asks, holding out a hand for you to take.

“I’ll take ‘em home, Shads!” Sonic suddenly announces, putting an arm around your shoulder. “Besides! I can get them there lickity-split!”

“I appreciate that, Sonic,” you say with a small smile, and Sonic swears he sees a light blush on your cheeks, but he brushes it off.

“Sure thing!” he tells you, before scooping you into a bridal-style carry. “See ya later, Shads! Now hold on tight, [Name]!”

You wrap your arms around Sonic’s neck and he rushes off towards your home to get you back safely.

A few days later, when you texted him asking him to meet up, he was nervous.

What if you were mad at him? What if you told him you didn’t want to be friends?

What if you were dating Shadow?!

He took a deep breath, exhaling sharply.

“Calm down, Sonic. They just want to talk with you. It’s fine,” Sonic says to himself before rushing out of his and Tails’ shared home.

Getting there in the blink of an eye, Sonic immediately notices something.

You.

You’re dressed in a really nice outfit and you have a picnic set up, hiding something behind your back.

You look-

“You look gorgeous…” Sonic mutters aloud.

Your face turns pink, and you look to the side, a bit embarrassed, but you wave him towards you, which he does, sitting on the blanket next to you.

“So…” you start.

“So…” he continues.

You clear your throat with one hand before bringing out what was behind your back; a bouquet of blue orchid flowers, Sonic’s favorites. You hold it out to him and he takes it with a shocked expression, his face tinted pink, cradling the flowers carefully.

“I- But- We- I thought-” Sonic sputters. “I thought you had a crush on Shadow!”

You blink twice before bursting out laughing, hunching back before hunching forward, wiping a few tears from your eyes.

“No, silly! I’ve liked you this whole time!” you tell him. “Shadow felt like a mentor to me. And don’t tell him I told you, but he came to me for love advice.”

“Love advice??? Him???” Sonic questions. “Who could he possibly like??”

Looking around, you cup a hand around your mouth before whispering in Sonic’s ear, and Sonic’s face quickly morphs into one of genuine shock.

“HE HAS A CRUSH ON WHO?!” Sonic yells.

“Don’t say it so loud!” you tell him, letting out another laugh.

“I just- Knuckles???” he questions. “I would’ve never thought!”

You giggle before placing a kiss on Sonic’s cheek, a smile appearing on both of your faces.

Neither of you could be happier.

[six-eyed-samurai]

"Choso! Did you eat my cookies?!"

He looks up eagerly from the couch, where he's currently flipping through one of the books you've lent him, only to wince at your expression looming over him. Choso tried for a smile.

"Uh, no. Maybe Yuuji ate them? You can go ask him."

"I don't need to." You yank the book from his hands and glare accusingly at him. Did he really think you would believe his five year old brother could possibly do such a thing? "Because unless Yuuji had a sudden growth spurt, I don't think he can reach the top shelf."

"You know that's why we put a step ladder there, right?"

"Oh? What's this then?"

Like a hawk you swoop in and brush off crumbs from Choso's shirt with a triumphant crow. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"They're my...cookies?"

"I can't believe it." Your shoulder sag; imaginary pearls are clutched as you fall back against the couch next to him. "My best friend and roommate - a liar, a thief and one cold-hearted man to try and pin it on a hapless toddler."

"You two-faced cookie monster!"

A cushion's smacked into him - Choso lets out a startled 'oof!' before indignantly whipping the blanket you had yanked over for yourself off in revenge. "Hey, they were that good, alright?"

"Excuses! First my dorayaki, next my mochi, now this? You've gone too far." Arms crossed, you shake your head in mock disappointment. "You're hereby fired from the position of my best friend."

"You can't do that! I've known you for years! I know exactly what time you can't sleep at night, I know how you like your coffee, I know what you did back in third grade with Soga Saito-"

"Stop -! Shut up, you're fired." Pointedly you roll onto your side.

Choso struggles to come up with a witty comeback, turning to you and trying to pull you back. "Well, fine, I don't wanna be your best friend anyway. What about boyfriend?"

"Oh, so that's how you're going to play it, the whole meh-I-don't-wanna - what. Wait, wait, wait. What."

Top ten worst ways to accidentally confess to a longtime crush on your (former) best friend that had gradually grown worse and worse over the time you both spend living under the same roof, seeing you walk out the door on some nameless date, know nobody but him knows what happened on Saturday the eleventh and he's still not the one you're kicking your feet for, all excited over just from a single text? Choso gulps. Top three, actually.

He can pretend you misheard, right? But the longer you go on gaping at him the more sweat collects into a bead on his forehead and on his palms. Choso slowly shifts away, never breaking eye contact.

"Well, I meant boyfriend as in, boy friend. Best male friend. You know?" His laugh sounds canned, like a badly made 1990s movie. "Are you - are you giving me the silent treatment now?"

"I mean - I - I have - just -"

"Did I say something weird? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you into an awkward position, or anything -"

The smile you have on is like you ate those cookies and not him. Really sweet and tasty cookies. Choso flushes.

"I mean, I'm just saying, but I guess I gotta find a new best friend now, male or otherwise, since you're promoted to boyfriend now."

Did you know one time my best friend fired me from being their best friend and we're not dating but I got replaced with a potato and was told I'd be sold for $1 fries.

[anotherjheastan]

No Fooling Me

A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley FanFic

CW Suggestive, mentions sex, fluff

I leave before you wake up

The sun up

Now I’m having coffee, eggs, and regret

Am I the only one in your bed?

You just wanna have fun

And I thought I wanna have fun

…

But I want you to be true, at least true with me

You can lie to all the other boys but no fooling me

- No Fool by Joseph Solomon

Jey slowly blinked open his eyes. He smiled when his eyes focused on Rhea. He carefully sat up and stretched and looked at her again. He wondered how she could look so beautiful even in her sleep. She had one arm curved over her head and her face was relaxed.

I could get used to this, Jey thought as he reached out and touched her cheek. She didn’t move, but the smile faded from his face because that was a serious thought and they weren’t serious. They weren’t together.

They were having fun and getting to know each other, but Jey knew enough. He knew he wanted her for himself, but he didn’t think she felt the same way about him. He heard her phone buzzing as he slipped out of bed. He put his boxers and sweatpants on. He had checked her phone before and she hadn’t minded so he just touched the darkened screen to light it up. His heart sank. Messages from Matt 🖤. A few weeks ago, he was the only one with a heart next to his name: Jey 💙. So what did that mean for him? She hadn’t told him she had met anyone. But maybe she was planning on doing that. Because although she had told him he was the only one with a heart, a few days later, she canceled their date. They started hanging out less and texting less too. Yesterday was their first date in a while and it was fun: dinner, drinks, and dancing. Jey was going to go home after, but she asked him to stay. She said she had missed him and apologized for being distant. And then one thing led to another.

Jey threw the rest of his clothes on. He quickly brushed his teeth with the spare toothbrush she had given him yesterday. He had gotten his gym bag out of the car yesterday when she asked him to stay so his date night clothes were already packed up. Maybe he was overreacting, but he couldn’t be there any more. He didn’t want to talk about Matt and whatever feelings she had for him. He only cared about how she felt about him, but he feared that didn’t matter any more. And it was too early to feel such complicated feelings. He looked at her one more time, sleeping soundly. He could wake up to that face forever, but Jey accepted that this would be the last time. And he left.

He went to Waffle House since that’s where they were planning on going. He sat in the back and pretended to look at the menu like he didn’t know what he wanted to get. He tried not to think about her, but she had been on his mind for over a year, even before they started talking. Getting Rhea off his mind wasn’t going to be easy. He figured she’d be getting up now and if he was there with her, she’d pulled him into the shower with her. And they’d take forever to get ready since they’d be fooling around the whole time. The last of the breakfast crowd would be filing out by the time they’d finally get to Waffle House.

Jey half smiled and shook his head. The waitress came and took his order: two hashbrowns scattered and covered, three scrambled eggs with cheese, two chocolate chip waffles, and a lemonade. She refilled his water glass before dropping his order off.

His phone buzzed. It was a text from Rhea.

Rhea: Where are you? Is breakfast off?

Jey didn’t respond. He didn’t want to get wrapped up in her again if this was the end. And if it wasn't the end because of someone else, it would probably be the end because he pissed her off.

Jey thought about their first date. He was so nervous. They had gone axe throwing. They agreed to meet there. When he saw her come in, he realized she was nervous too. But it didn’t take long for them to relax and have fun. He got it before she did so he helped her.

“Let me show you my technique,” Jey said.

Rhea laughed. “Oh you have a special technique now? Show me please.”

“You gotta let it go before you think you need to,” Jey said, smiling.

He stood behind her and put his arms around her, his hands on her hands holding the axe.

“I feel like this is an excuse to get close to me,” Rhea said.

“I’m trying to make sure you don't accidentally hit anyone with these wild throws you’re doing.”

“Oh this is for public safety?” Rhea asked, not being able to keep in her giggles.

“Exactly. Stay focused,” Jey said, chuckling.

As much shit as Rhea wanted to talk, she did land the next throw and the ones after that.

She called as the waitress brought the lemonade. He listened to the voicemail.

“Jey, what’s going on? Are you alright? Did something happen? Can you call or text me please? I’m starting to worry.”

Well he didn’t want her to worry.

Jey: I’m good.

Rhea: Gee thanks. That’s it? You’re usually not the have sex and vanish guy…Do I have to worry about that now?

Jey shook his head, but couldn’t bring himself to text that she didn’t have to worry about him at all.

A few minutes passed and Rhea sent a text with question marks: ???

Jey didn’t respond. He had to start the separation process. Rhea would be okay. She had Matt Black Heart Emoji to keep her company.

As the waitress brought out his food, Rhea walked in. Jey tried to not to look at her, but their eyes locked. A confused and hurt look crossed Rhea’s face as she approached him. She sat down in his booth.

“Oh can I get you something?” The waitress asked.

“Can I get a coffee please? Black?” Rhea asked.

“Coming right up,” the waitress replied.

“Thank you,” Rhea said.

Jey quickly stuffed hashbrowns in his mouth. Rhea rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Jey, you’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

Jey pointed to his mouth.

“Yeah, I know you just shoved food in your mouth so you don’t have to talk to me. We had fun yesterday I thought? Are we okay?”

Jey swallowed and sipped his lemonade. So this conversation was gonna happen. Got it.

“Who’s Matt?” Jey asked.

Rhea’s face softened slightly, but her arms were still firmly crossed. “I started talking to Matt a few weeks ago. I’m getting to know him.”

“The same time you started being distant,” Jey said.

Rhea dropped her arms and sighed. “Jey…”

“You think I’m stupid, Rhea?” Jey asked, anger bubbling up.

“No,” she snapped.

“You think I wouldn’t figure out there was someone else?” Jey asked.

He ate some more hashbrowns and started cutting into his waffles.

“It’s not like that, Jey,” Rhea said.

“Really?”

“I mean, I wasn’t trying to be sneaky about it. We had this conversation. I just got out of a relationship. I’m not jumping into a new one. If I meet people I like, I’m going to talk to them,” she said. “And you said okay, remember?”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

The waitress, wide-eyed, gently put the coffee cup in front of Rhea and scattered.

Rhea’s eyes quickly widened with shock before anger settled on her face.

“No. I’m only sleeping with you,” Rhea said, words dripping with disdain.

She sipped her coffee and Jey sighed.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Rhea drank her coffee, cutting her eyes at him every so often. Jey focused on his food, ignoring the pangs he felt when she had her eyes on him.

“So you like Matt?” Jey said.

“Yes. And you what? Saw his name in my phone and got upset? That’s why you left?”

“You’re not ready for a relationship, but I can’t share you,” Jey said, looking at her.

Rhea’s breath caught and she sat back in the booth. They stared at each other.

“I don’t mean to make it seem like I’m playing games because I’m not,” Jey said. “I know how I feel about you. And it’s not casual. And I wanted some space because if you like someone else, if you wanna explore shit with him, I need to process that.”

Rhea looked down at the table. The waitress came back.

“Did you want to order anything, hon?” she asked.

“Can I get some chocolate chip waffles to go?” Rhea asked. “Two please.”

“Right away,” the waitress said. She walked away.

Rhea looked at Jey. Their eyes met as he finished the last of his eggs.

“You didn’t tell me how you were feeling,” Rhea said quietly.

“It didn’t hit me until this morning,” Jey said. “You’ve been distant, remember? And then I saw Matt with a black heart next to his name and I figured it didn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Rhea said. “I care about you, Jey. Our time together means a lot to me. You’ve helped me through so much.”

“But Matt’s not nobody, huh?”

Rhea sighed. “I’m sorry. He’s not nobody.”

Jey nodded slowly. He felt tears burn his eyes, but he blinked them away.

Silence settled between them a little more comfortably this time.

“So why did you sleep with me yesterday?” he asked.

Rhea sighed and covered her face. She looked at him. “I missed you. You’re special, Jey. I don’t know what it is about you. But I needed to see you yesterday. Like I needed this breakfast with you.” She reached her hand out to him.

“I missed you too,” Jey said, taking her hand in his.

“The problem is you’re not nobody either,” Rhea said.

“You can’t have us both,” Jey said.

“I’m not ready to choose,” Rhea said, squeezing his hand.

Jey let go of her hand. “Not choosing is choosing though.”

Rhea’s eyes watered, her empty hand lingered on the table. Jey looked away.

“It’s okay, Rhea,” Jey said. He sighed and looked at her. “I want you to be happy. You deserve happiness, especially after last year. If talking to Matt makes you happy, do it. We’ll always be friends.”

The waitress dropped off Rhea’s waffles and two checks. She collected Jey’s empty plates and asked if he wanted another lemonade. He shook his head. She left.

Jey grabbed both checks and pulled out his card.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rhea said. “I can pay for mine.”

“It’s okay. I got it. Next time, it can be your treat,” Jey said, a soft smile on his face.

“Next time?” Rhea asked, locking eyes with him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Let me know if it’s a friend date or not.”

Rhea smiled. “Okay.”

The waitress took his card and came back. He left a big tip for her.

“You ready to go?” Jey asked. “You must be starving.”

“Yeah I am starving,” Rhea replied, standing up. “You gonna walk me out?”

“Yeah,” Jey said.

Once outside, Rhea leaned against her driver door and looked at Jey. Jey slipped his hands in his pockets, looking her up and down.

“I was dreaming about you,” Rhea said. “And before I opened my eyes I was like wait he’s actually here and I was so happy. And then I look and you’re gone. And then you’re not texting me back. And I didn’t just know something was off. I felt things were off. And it still feels off and I hate that. And I’m gonna get in my car and go home and miss you. I will miss you all day today. But I know it doesn’t matter. Because there’s someone else. But I worry that I won’t be able to let you go either.”

Jey leaned into her. He heard her breath catch and he smiled. “If you can’t stop thinking about me even when you’re with him, you come back to me,” he whispered in her ear. “But I won’t wait forever.”

He leaned away and she nodded, her face flushed.

He grabbed her chin. “No. Use your words.”

He was certain flashbacks of last night were on both of their minds then.

“I-I’ll come back to you,” Rhea whispered.

He smirked and let go of her chin. Rhea bit her lip.

“Bye Rhea,” he said, heading toward his car.

“Bye Jey,” Rhea said breathlessly.

He watched her get in her car and drive away before sitting in his driver seat. Jey sighed, clicking on the dating app he had downloaded last week. He still needed to set up the profile. He figured he would get started on that today. He started his car and drove home.

Alternate endings coming tomorrow (1/11)!

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter seventeen: "Hot for the teacher"

Summary: (Y/N) gets what she wants, but not the way she'd like. Linda Barnes tries to  run the BAU her way, but the team is there to fight. Also, (Y/N) might hate certain students drooling over her husband...  Word count: 9.004 Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of Criminal Mind Ep S13 E6, E15 and E16 A/N: I always wondered how would (Y/N) deal with all the girls staring at her husband with heart eyes. Now we know. What do you guys think? 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Spencer’s point of view

A lot can change in a person in six weeks. In the six weeks we had off, my mother got into her new facility home. She seemed happy there, and we were just a 20-minute ride away, which made me feel better. I wasn’t pushing my mother away to another city or keeping her far from her grandkids. We visited weekly, talked to her daily, and the kids brought her drawings to decorate her room.

Having time to be a family helped me fix my relationship with my wife. We talked and relaxed. We also had the chance to be a couple and resolve our problems. We even did a little trip to Disney. I swear, Raven had never been so excited before.

We also decided to move out of our apartment and started looking for a house. I wasn’t ready to leave the apartment yet, too many memories had been made there, but I knew the process was not going to be quick. Besides, after Cat had spied on us, neither of us felt completely safe living there.

Those six weeks were a gift because though we were all trying to overcome the trauma and pain Mr. Scratch had caused to all of us, it gave us the time to clear our minds. And I knew my wife was having a hard time with our work at the BAU. I could pretend I didn't see it, but it was crystal clear.

Even back then I knew (Y/N) could never be a housewife. Those six weeks were nice at first: being at home, driving our kids to school, coming back home to clean, grocery shopping, reading after lunch, and watching a movie every night. But by week three, she was going a little insane.

- “Cookies are baking, the brownie is cooling off and the clothes are off the dryer.”- she announced as she sat by my side on the couch, where I tried to read. I hummed in response and she grabbed a book as well. But she didn’t last three minutes in silence before she sighed and looked at me.

- “I’m bored.”

- “I know.”- I replied without taking my eyes from my book. (Y/N) moved closer to me on the couch and tried to look at my pages.

- “What are you reading?”- I didn’t reply, instead I moved the book so she could take a better look- “Aristotle. So you are keeping it light.”

- “What do you wanna do before we have to pick up the kids?”

- “I don’t know…”- and she wasn’t lying. She sat there, stared at the ceiling, and didn’t say another word. I finished my page and closed the book.

- “Wanna go out on a date?”

- “Sure”- she replied and didn’t move.

- “Coffee?”

- “Sure…”- she answered, not even listening to the question.

- “Or maybe ice cream.”- I suggested and stared at her.

- “Sure…”- it was like she wasn’t there.

- “Can I eat you out until you’ve come five times?”- I thought that proposal would get her attention.

- “Sure…”- but nothing. No reaction.

- “Ok chipmunk, what is it?”- I wrapped an arm around her and moved her closer to me.

- “I don’t know. I’m just… bored and stressed at the same time.” - she mumbled, almost pouting.

- “Do you miss work?”

- “I miss working, I just don’t know if I miss the BAU.”

I wish I could tell you her reply was a surprise, but it was what I expected. We had long conversations about leaving the FBI, and though we didn’t have a plan, we both knew our service days were counted.

- “Have you thought about what you’d like to do instead of the BAU?”- my question hung in the air for a few seconds before my wife sighed and shook her head.

- “Is it too sad if I tell you there is absolutely nothing? There is a blank space in my head when I think about what I could do.”

- “You mentioned teaching a few times.”

- “I did…”- she paused and moved from my arms to turn and look at me for a moment.- “But I don’t know if that is what I actually want or what I should do. And somehow they feel like two different things.”

- “You don’t have to figure it out right now.”

- “But I feel like I do, we have six weeks off, three remain, and if you ask me, all the cleaning and baking can do so much for my mental health. I need something else.”- I held her hand and kissed it, now both of us staring at each other in silence.- “Shit! The cookies!”- she suddenly jumped and ran to the kitchen. I left the book on the couch and followed her.

My limbic system was responding to that scene: my wife taking cookies out of the oven. It made me feel the primitive need to protect her. To make her happy, to show her how much she meant to me. My wife, the woman who always took care of me and our family. I had to make sure she was happy, at all costs.

- “Wha…”- (Y/N) didn’t have time to finish her question as I grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. She moaned as I deepened the kiss and moved my hands diligently to unzip her pants.

- “Spencer…”

- “I told you I was gonna make you come five times.”- I whispered as I sat her on the counter and pulled down her pants until her bare legs were right in front of my face.

- “I thought you were bragging.”- (Y/N) replied and bit her lower lip playfully

- “I’ll give you something to brag about, Mrs. Reid.”

- “What about coffee and ice cream?”- my wife asked as I pulled her underwear to the side and licked her slowly. Her whole body shook as an instant reaction.

- “I’ll get you an affogato on our way to school.”

(Y/N)’s point of view

The first couple of cases felt odd. Being back in the bullpen was like coming back to school after summer break. I could tell Matt Simmons was excited to be part of the team, and it felt good to be back with the gang. We were helping people, making a difference. That was my mantra. Fuck “Wheels up” to keep me sane, I had to remind myself over and over again people were safer because we did our job.

But it only took a few weeks before I started feeling trapped at the FBI. It was overwhelming because I kept trying to fight that feeling, but sometimes I felt paralyzed with stress and anxiety. I kept feeling there was no way out of that job. That I was doomed to be there until my last day.

It didn’t help to see how Spencer was thrilling with every case. He was back to work like nothing had happened. My husband was right back in his element, while I struggled with a gnawing emptiness.

But I did what I do best under these circumstances: I pretended nothing was bothering me. I focused on enjoying the few things that made me happy as I tried to find something that filled the void at work. Raven had started taking swimming lessons back then, which were very exciting, because she was growing up so fast, and she was so glad to be part of a team and make new friends. I tried to go with her to as many lessons as possible, cheering her on and sending all of our family and friends pictures of my baby.

Until Spencer gave me a reality check.

- “Just because Raven found what makes her happy doesn’t mean you have to live through her. You still need to find something to fill your soul.”

His words hit me like a slap of truth. We were in the middle of the dark in our room, as he held me close to him. My head was on his chest, his arms were around me, and his words hit me harder than the bullet an unsub put in my arm a few years before.

- “Why don’t you sugarcoat it a little?”- I whispered and didn’t even look at him. He kissed the top of my head and sighed.

- “Didn’t we agree we were not to lie to each other?”

- “We did. But you don’t need to be so straightforward. That was painful.”- I murmured that last part, almost hiding my face in his chest.

- “I’m sorry ma cheriê”- my husband caressed my shoulder as I rolled in bed and laid by his side.- “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I just wanna help.”

- “I know… shit, I don’t wanna be one of those crazy moms, living life through their babies' success and dreams.”

- “You won’t”- Spencer sighed and touched my nose softly with his index, making me feel like a little kid.

- “You just said so.”- I pouted and he smiled, kissing my lips carefully.

- “I did not. I just want you to be happy, chipmunk. And you can pretend all you want, but I know you have been sad these past couple of weeks. Not even Morgan’s visit cheered you up.”

- “He was here to comfort Pen, not me.”

- “Because you have me to comfort you.”- my husband cut me a smile and made a pause before he dropped the bomb.- “Also… I was talking with Blake today, and she said she could help.”

- “You asked her for help?”

- “She actually called you to ask for help, which was a happy coincidence, because I think you are gonna like what she needs.”

- “What is it? A profiler? Or a home baker? We still have some snickerdoodles left by the way.”

- “A professor.”- he explained with a sweet smile.- “Specifically, a linguistic professor teaching an undergraduate class in Georgetown.”

- “And she thought of you?”

- “Of you.”

My heart stopped when I heard Spencer saying those simple two words. Yes, I had thought about teaching, but somehow I had never considered it earnestly. Why? Impostor syndrome? Fear of failure? Self-doubt? All above I guess.

- “What?”- I whispered, thinking I had misheard.

- “Alex needed help to find a teacher for a psycholinguistics class, something that you actually like.”

- “I do.”

- “So she thought of you.”

- “Why didn’t she call me?”

- “She did, but you didn’t pick up ‘co you were putting Vinny to sleep, so I talked to her instead.”

- “Answering my phone calls, Spencer Walter Reid. I don’t know how I feel about it.”- I joked only because I didn’t know how to react to what I had just heard. That was a real job offer in a field I liked.

- “She said she is calling you tomorrow again, so you can pick up and ask all about it.”

Spencer was right, Alex called me the following morning and delivered her proposal in detail. One of her best friends in Georgetown needed help finding a teacher for an undergrad course in psychology, and she thought of me. It was just five hours a week for a semester, so it wouldn’t take much of my BAU time. I just needed to talk to Emily and make my schedule match. That was the hardest part.

I don’t know if Emily knew I was unhappy with the job, but she didn’t hesitate to approve my request. In fact, she suggested Spencer could do a similar thing, and give seminars for young agents at the academy.

- “I could make it work so you two spend more time at home with the kids, and help the team from Quantico”

- “Isn’t it a little selfish?”- I asked. We were alone in Prentiss’ office, which was still Hotch’s office in my head, and that made everything less official and more traumatic for me. Somehow it still felt like we were pretending to be the grownups while he was away.

- “I wouldn’t call it selfish if it helps you focus on work whenever you are on the field.”

Emily added and held her cup of coffee with both hands as she stared at me from the other side of her desk, filled with unfinished paperwork.

- “Oh stop it, Reid. I have known you for what seems like a lifetime. You have been unhappy since Aaron left. So please tell me, what is it? you don’t like me as your Unit Chief?”

- “What the fuck?”- the curses rolled off my tongue before I could actually realize what I was saying.

- “I mean it, you’ve been acting strange for the last couple of months. I understand you and Spencer have been through a lot, but this is clearly work-related.”

- “First of all, how dare you bring this up at work and not at a bar with a drink in our hands!”- I start arguing back.

- “This is work-related, (Y/N), and I am talking to you as your superior, not your friend.”

- “Second of all,”- I continued speaking, ignoring the scowl.- “I love having you here. I wanted you on this team way before Hotch left. You were the one who didn’t want to leave the Interpol.”

- “Then what is it?”- my friend was clearly losing her patience with me.

- “I just… don’t know.”- I simply confessed and didn't say another word. I just sighed and stared at my friend not knowing how to explain what was happening.

- “How can you not know what happens to you?”- it was a simple question, I guess.

- “I don’t know what it is. I thought it was caused by the stress of having Diana home and all the fights that brought to us, but it wasn’t. I thought I could blame Scratch, but he is only partially guilty of what is happening. Just as Cat, or any fucking unsub that I might think of.”

Emily stared at me, knowing better than to push me. I stood up and started pacing around the room. It took me a few minutes to finally say it out loud.

- “Sometimes I don’t know why I am still here.”

- “You are making a difference.”- Emily stood up and walked to me as soon as she heard me. I turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

- “Trust me, I keep telling myself that every day I show up. Every day I miss Raven’s swimming competition or school recital and when I miss any milestone in Vincent’s growth.”- I paused because I was about to start crying and I didn’t want to get emotional at work.- “Each time that even for a split second there is a chance Spencer or I might get hurt, making a difference is the only thing that keeps me here.”

- “(Y/N)…”- Emily hugged me ‘cos tears had started falling from my eyes.- “Why didn’t you tell me anything sooner?”

- “Sooner when? Things have been crazy here and you know it.” - she sighed and nodded as I wiped away the tears from my cheeks.

- “I know, and we haven’t had much time to talk either.”

- “That’s the thing with this job, we let time pass us by ‘cos we are always too busy to stop and analyze what is happening to us…”

Emily nodded as she stared at me, both her hands on my shoulders as she tried to reassure me things were going to be better somehow.

- “Teaching this class is gonna be good for you, Reid. You need to find your own path.”

I wanted to believe her. I was already tired of feeling like I was drifting and wasting my life.

Spencer’s point of view

The first class my wife taught, she was so nervous I wanted to sit at the back of the classroom to make sure she was ok. It didn’t help that that very same day, I had been caught with JJ in a bunker, as we tried to catch an unsub who kidnapped women, convinced them doomsday was coming, and kept them locked underground in a hidden bunker.

We both knew the team was right a few minutes away the second the door locked behind us. But they couldn’t reach us underground. There was no signal. I also knew my wife was not with them, because she was teaching her first class at five, and I had sworn I'd wait for her outside.

If I wasn’t there, as promised, she was going to get very scared… and very mad.

- “I can’t get through”- JJ announced the obvious, staring at her cell phone screen.

- “The doors are airtight and the glass is bomb-blast resistant. Our bullets would just bounce off.”- I explained as I knocked on the window, trying to find a way out. I couldn’t be locked with JJ in a bunker. Not that day, not ever.

- “Ok, uh, Garcia told everyone we were heading down here, so… wait, did you say airtight?”- I kept pacing around the room when Jennifer realized what I had just said. Meanwhile, I had already discarded eleven plans to get out of that space. - “Are we gonna run out of air?”

- “No, high carbon dioxide levels are gonna kill us before low oxygen levels do.”- I explained and tried to focus on another plan.

- “What about the keypad, Spence?”

- “On a zero to 9 keypad, assuming a 4-digit code, there are 10,000 possible combinations. If you figure 5 seconds to input each combination, that’ll be 13.89 hours and that is not even accounting finger fatigue.”

- “Right. So, even if we did try, after too many failed attempts, we would probably be locked in here anyway.”

- “(Y/N) is gonna kill me.”- I whispered and sighed, closing my eyes for a second.

- “Why?”

- “I promised I’d be there after her first class.”

- “I’m sure she’ll understand. She knows how this job is.”- JJ didn’t understand my wife’s relationship with the job at that minute, and I couldn’t blame her. (Y/N) didn’t want to share much about her personal crisis with the team. Only Prentiss and Garcia knew how she actually felt. And they were as supportive and understanding as I knew they would be.

- “Yeah, sure.”- I mumbled and kept looking for a way out.

- “Hey, is (Y/N) ok? We haven’t talked much lately. I don’t… I don’t know if she is mad at me or…”

But whatever JJ was about to say, I didn’t pay attention to, because two of the victims appeared at the other side of the glass, holding hostage a woman they claimed was the unsub’s partner. We were lucky enough to be out of that trap quickly, release all the victims, and catch the unsub and his partner. The team was right outside as we made it out of the bunker with the victims, and I was in an SUV in less than ten minutes.

I made it on time, barely. I ran to the classroom door and I was still catching my breath when the door opened and the students started walking out. It was a warm afternoon, the sun was just setting, and as I walked into that room, I found my wife closing her computer, and gathering all her things.

- “Excuse me, professor.”- I said as I walked closer and watched her face light up.

- “It’s Doctor, actually.”- she corrected as my lips curled up in a smile. I just felt so good to see her happy.

- “I’m sorry, Doctor Reid. I’ve always been very interested in learning more about linguistics and I was wondering if I could attend this class…”

- “Oh, I’m so sorry Mr…”

- “It’s Doctor, Doctor Reid.”- I corrected her with a smirk and she just nodded, playing along.

- “Oh I’m sorry, Doctor Reid, but this class is closed.”

- “No… really?”- I finally stood in front of her and placed my hands on her waist as she nodded and smiled back at me.

- “Really.”- her voice dropped an octave, sounding so sexy I started considering that bending her on that desk was a very good idea.

- “Is there a chance I can get a private lesson?”- I asked her and she giggled.

- “Are you really that passionate about linguistics?”

- “You have no idea.”- I whispered, pressing her body closer to mine and kissing her lips. I tried to be sweet and gentle, but I felt a hunger inside me, and I needed to feel my wife.

- “Not many people feel this way about linguistics.”- (Y/N) whispered and smiled as I rubbed my lips against hers and tugged her hair carefully not to hurt her, but hard enough for her to gasp and open her mouth, giving me all access.

- “Maybe I could audit your class…”- and my wife just nodded as I rested my forehead against her, as we tried our best to cool off a little.

- “Excuse… me…”- a student coughed from the door. - “Doctor Reid, I needed to…”

- “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”- (Y/N) cleared her throat and moved away from me in a second. I smiled and took a step aside. It was so incredible watching her talking with a student, giving him notes from her lecture, talking about what he didn’t get. She was glowing, excited, and in her element. I hadn’t seen her that happy in a very long while.

So I made it my new goal: giving my wife the space to find what she wanted to do professionally, and which classes she wanted to teach. I never liked change before, and I was still struggling with it, but for her, I would do anything. For her, I would embrace change and roll with it. If it was what it took to make her that happy, I would do it gladly.

The first step was to speed up the process of moving from the apartment: I hated it, but I knew it needed to be done. I didn’t want to get out of there, but at the same time, I knew she wasn’t happy living in that apartment anymore. What happened with Cat Adams and Lindsey had affected her to the point of taking the joy from our flat. So we started looking for our own house. It wasn’t a quick process, trust me. It took almost a year to find the right house.

During that time, I started teaching a few seminars in the Academy, as Prentiss had suggested and my wife continued teaching her class in Georgetown. We started spending more time in Washington, which felt incredibly right. It was almost a year since our crisis, since my mother had stayed with us, bringing all the stress and fights, and I was, for once, enjoying life day by day.

Vinny was already two years and eight months old, and he was going through a bedtime crisis. He insisted he wasn’t tired and that he didn’t want to sleep. So every time, we had to come up with the craziest ways to get that kid weary for bed. We would dance, play, run, and tell the longest and most intricate bedtime stories. Most of the time, we struggled to stay away while trying to put him to bed. But somehow, it was the kind of struggle I didn’t mind having in my life. Not after dealing with serial killers.

We had a system and it was working. (Y/N) was a lot happier, and I was facing changes one day at a time. That was until the FBI's Assistant Director of National Security, Linda Barnes, put her eye on the BAU and decided to put us under investigation. She started by suspending Prentiss indefinitely, leaving JJ as temporary Unit Chief. It had been heartbreaking hearing Emily’s voice crack as she apologized for not being able to protect us from Barnes. We knew she meant serious trouble for us. She had dismantled Simmon’s former team, and she had her eye put on us. We knew what she was after: us. She wanted to end the BAu, or at least, end how it worked until that day.

The following day, after Prentiss gave us the news, things got even worse. (Y/N) was teaching a class early in the morning, so she missed the briefing. Which, I’ve always thought was a great thing because she would have snapped way more aggressively than I did when we all realized Barnes had picked the case for the team and planned on going to the field with us.

- “Meet you at the Tarmac.”- she announced as we all stood up from the table and stared at her lost.

- “You are going into the field with us?”- Tara asked her, not hiding her surprise and annoyance.

- “Yes.”- Linda replied coldly.

- “No offense, but you are not a profiler.”- Rossi pointed out, but Barnes didn’t seem to bother.

- “True, but I’ve worked on the field and a fresh set of eyes might be useful.”

She stared at us, probably waiting for any kind of reply, but no one said anything. I had to bite my lips ‘cos I was losing it second by second with her around.

- “I know you think I’m the enemy, but I am not. I can be your greatest advocate if you let me. Now, you’ve had some poor leadership in the past, but I know I can help right the ship.”

It was that last sentence that was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I was not going to let that woman speak ill of Hotch or Prentiss.

- “No.”- I said as soon as she made a pause. - “You are wrong. Emily Prentiss is not a poor leader. She defined what a BAU chief should be. I am not gonna stand here and let you destroy her career like this. If you are going, I am not.”

And I didn’t even let her reply. I just stormed out of the conference room and walked back to my desk, I gathered my things and walked away from the BAU.

- “Spencer, oh my god. What did you do?”- Prentiss argued as soon as I finished telling my story. I didn't want to bother (Y/N) at work, so I did the only thing I could come up with: visit Emily at her house and try to help her return to the team.

- “I had to.”- that was my only explanation.

- “No, you didn't.”

- “Life's too short to deal with people like Linda Barnes.”- I knew that was something my wife would say, but after so many years together, I think there was a lot of her rubbing on my behavior. And I liked it.

- “Spence…”- Prentiss wanted to keep telling me off, but I wasn’t gonna let her. So I just continued talking

- “I wasn't gonna, you know, go with her and help her dismantle the team.”

Emily stared at me and rearranged her thoughts in silence for a moment. Then, she took a big step and stood in front of me, just next to her kitchen island.

- “Thank you for standing up for me. I appreciate you coming to the house for support, but what you did was reckless.”- and I rolled my eyes at her, as she started lecturing me again. - “The BAU is under the microscope right now, and the last thing you should be doing is giving Barnes more ammunition. You're making her job easier.”

- “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”- I frowned as I noticed she had started walking and moving closer to the front door one more time. She turned to me, looking caught, and pretended not to understand.

- “What?”

- “Ever since I got here, you've been trying to keep me out of…”- I took a look around and started wandering around the place. I wouldn’t usually do that, but Prentiss’ attitude was off.

- “No, I just, uh… no, I wasn't expecting anyone and the place…”

And just like that, I found what she was trying to hide.

- “Spence, stop!”

I jogged to her dining room and found a few boxes. She had started packing her things. Emily Prentiss was getting ready to fly away and leave us behind.

- “It's been less than two days and you're already leaving.”- I turned to face her, disappointed and angry.

- “I'm… I…”

Emily sighed as she tried to find the right way to explain what was going through her mind. Why would she just run away from trouble? That wasn’t like her.

- “Ok, look. Barnes wants somebody to take the fall for what happened in Roswell. I'm willing to be that somebody if it will help stabilize the BAU. You're in good hands with JJ.”

- “There's no guarantee that she won't replace her the minute you're gone.”- I argued immediately, but it wasn’t enough reason for her.

- “I think that if I go away for good, she'll leave you alone.”

- “You can still fight this. We can still fight this!”- but as I spoke those words, I could read on her face how the fire was dying inside of her.

- “Ah… Maybe I don't want to.”- and that answer was just as infuriating as discovering those boxes. Maybe even more.

- “Well, now who's making it easy for Barnes?”- I spat those words with anger as I frowned and stared into her eyes. I wanted her to see my disappointment.

- “You don’t get it, Spence.”- Emily said after a few minutes. She just walked around the apartment and started gathering more things to put in boxes and I sat on her couch, trying to find the right argument to change her mind.- “This is the right decision for me. I need you to support that.”

- “What's your plan? I mean, where are you gonna go?"- she had to be joking if she thought I was going to support her running away.

- “When I left Interpol, they said the door was always open to return. I like London. So…”- I looked at her in silence for a moment, as she kept putting books in boxes, driving me insane.

- “Well, if you really want me to support you, just answer me this one question.”- I finally said, standing up from her couch and looking at her. - “Why is it not ok for me to walk out on the team but it is for you?

- “Because you and I are different.”

- “We're not. And if the situation was reversed, you wouldn't give up on me. And you know what? I happen to know that for a fact because you didn't. When my mother was taken and I was losing my sanity, you did everything in your power to help my family.”

Emily stared at me and sighed. Clearly, I had hit a sensitive issue when I mentioned what happened with my mother.

- “What?”- I asked her as I scowled, confused.

- “Yeah. I did everything. I needed to make sure things worked their best for you, your family, and the team.”

- “And they did, all things considered.”- I replied, knowing nothing bad could come from that case, except the trauma me and my family were working to heal.

- “Including leaving out of the documents your trip to Mexico.”- Prentiss confessed and I wide opened my eyes, surprised.

- “Wh… what?”

- “When you went to Mexico to meet doctor Nadia Ramos, you used your personal passport. You should have used your work-issued one.”- Emily looked at me and held her breath for a second.- “I know you weren’t working, but you should have been briefed before leaving the country. That was a violation of security protocol. And I left it out of the case.” - her eyes watered up as she explained what had happened.

- “But… I didn’t do anything bad in Mexico.”- my voice was a whisper, and my friend nodded.

- “I know, Spence. But as an FBI agent, you are always a target, and you know it. You have to follow protocol before leaving the country. But I crossed a line I swore I never would. Barnes called me out on it. And that's when I realized she was right. I do hold this team above the very laws we are supposed to uphold. You made a mistake, but you didn’t do anything wrong, I did. That's why it's wrong for you to quit. But me, I've lost the privilege to run this team.”

I was speechless as I stared at my friend. I never knew she had done such a thing. I wouldn’t have let her do that. Just to think of all the things that could have gone wrong if I had gone more than that one time to Mexico still haunted me, and staring at my friend paying for a crime like that to keep me on the team made me feel incredibly lucky to have her, and immensely stupid for ruining things like that.

We fell into an awkward silence. I knew she didn’t want to talk, and I knew I was gonna have to push her, but I gave her a moment of quiet and peace as I arranged the facts in my head to convince her to stay. I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

- “Thank you.”- I whispered as I grabbed some books and files and put them in random boxes, as I pretended I was gonna help her move.

- “What?”

- “Thank you for covering for me.”

- “You're welcome.”- my friend looked at me and smiled

- “I'm not done.”- I added and she frowned as I continued talking. - “Thank you, but I didn't ask you to. Who knows? Maybe the bureau would have understood why I did it.”

- “Maybe. Now we'll never know.”- Emily replied and continued packing nonchalantly.

- “And that's exactly my point. You know, sometimes it's painful when you look back at your life and you realize how little choice you had in it. Right?”

Em paused her packing and looked at me with curiosity and some frustration.

- “Spence, if there's something you want to say, just say it.”

- “All I'm saying is that it's a lot like when JJ and Hotch faked your death so that you could escape from Ian Doyle.”- I knew I was hitting a nerve by bringing him into the conversation, but I needed her to see my point.- “You didn't have any choice in the matter, but it's what they had to do. They fought just as hard to save your life as you did to save mine. It's what we do."

- “It's… not like this."

- “It is. Do you want proof? Here are some examples. Michael Lee Peterson, Chad Higgins, Kathy and Jessica Evanson, Gloria Barker, and Declan Doyle. These are men, women, and children you've saved at the BAU, personally.”

- “But that's our job. Yours, mine, that's what we do. We save lives.”

- “And here are eight more that need it now. David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, Matt Simmons, Tara Lewis… (Y/N) Reid and Spencer Reid.”

- “Stop.”

- “I don't think you understand. After Hotch left, the team could have imploded. It didn't because you were there. You were there to keep us together. We don't always have a choice in what happens to us, but you know what? Sometimes we do. And right now…”

I choked up because tears were threatening to roll down my cheeks, and I couldn’t speak, feeling my throat closing with emotion.

- “I'm just asking you to make the choice to stay and fight for us. You know, fight for the team. That's what we do. We fight for each other.”

Emily opened her mouth to argue, but she just shook her head and chuckled, tearing up.

- “Ok.”- that was all she said and I immediately stood up to hug her.

- “Let's call the team and get back to work. (Y/N) should be out of classes by now.”

- “I'm suspended.”- Emily announced, like that could ever stop us.

- “Well, I'm not. If you just so happen to hear what I say, then so be it.”

- “That rebel attitude is very (Y/N) of you, Spence.”

- “I know”- and I smiled proudly.

But, by the end of the day, Linda Barnes had gone behind the team and got the primary suspect dead. The team had solved the case, but someone had died. Rossi called us and invited us all for drinks. (Y/N) had joined us in Emily's apartment as soon as her class was over and I had updated her with everything that had happened that day.

- “I am out two mornings a week and I miss all the fun.”- she argued as I finished telling her how I stormed out of the conference room.

However, when we got to the bullpen, to pick up the team, Linda Barnes had saved us one more surprise.

- “Did I hear something about drinks?”- my wife said as she stood in front of Rossi and hugged him and Penelope at the same time.

- “Yes. And I am buying the first round.”- Luke added and (Y/N) raised her hand to give him a high five, but that was the second we all turned and saw Barnes standing there, in the middle of the office. Ruining our moment.

- “Agent Prentiss, Agent Reid, I'm happy to see you.”- her voice was cold as she nodded at us.- “Agent Jareau, I didn't get the opportunity to tell you how much I enjoyed your speech on the jet. But you're wrong that I'm here to shut down the BAU because I'm not. This unit is the crown jewel of behavioral profiling. I couldn't shut it down if I wanted to. But I can help restructure it.”

My blood ran cold as I heard those words. That woman wanted to destroy our department, and she was about to succeed.

- “The director watched the airport video, and he felt, as I did, that we were in public and your validation strategy was failing.”

- “You already met with him?”- JJ asked in shock, we knew she was waiting to talk to him and explain what had happened. But Barnes had, once again, gone behind her back to win.

- “Yes. I've known him for a long time. He answers my calls.”

- “I haven't even had a chance to file my report.”- Jennifer argued, but Barnes dismissed her words like she dismissed everything she didn't care for.

- “He agreed that events should have unfolded quicker, and because they didn't, the suspect died. Now we need to ensure that mistakes, like the ones you made today, never happen again.”

- “Mistakes we made?”- JJ questioned crossing her arms on her chest.

- “That said, Agent Prentiss, your suspension is lifted. You'll be reassigned within the Bureau. Your new post has yet to be determined.”

- “What?”

- “Agent Lewis, you will also be reassigned. Agent Reid, you will be a full-time professor with our exchange program. Agent (Y/L/N), your recent teaching career is taking off, the Bureau will be happy to help you find more classes to teach, along with your husband.”

- “It’s Doctor Reid, and who says that’s something I even want to do?”- my wife questioned her and I held her hand to stop her from talking any further.

- “It’s clear your head is not with the team anymore, agent.”- Barnes replied and didn’t give her time to say a word back.- “Agent Rossi, the FBI deeply appreciates your service, and the director wishes you nothing but the best in your retirement.”

Barnes made a pause and gave Rossi time to argue with her decision, but he didn’t say a word.

- “Agent Simmons, Agent Alvez, you will remain here at the BAU. Garcia, your loyalty to the team is appreciated, but it feels like a fresh start in a different department would be best.”

- “Fresh start? I don't want a fresh start. I need… I need to be here.”- Garcia was already crying as she spoke, but Barnes didn’t even answer her plea.

- “I'm fired, aren't I?”- JJ asked coldly.

- “No. You're the conditional unit chief of the BAU. Congratulations.”- Barnes’ words kept getting colder and colder as she spoke. She was, in fact, enjoying her revenge.

- “There's no such thing.”- Jennifer argued.

- “You're right. There wasn't. But I was able with the director's approval to create a new position just for you. I won't be going into the field with you anymore, but you will run every decision past me, big and small, before you act.”

Linda Barnes stared at us. None of us was able to say a word. We were shocked by her power and the promptness of her actions. She didn’t even give us time to fight back.

- “Good night.”- she cut us one evil smile and walked out of the bullpen.

- “This can't be the end. Can it?”- Garcia asked us, and we didn’t really know how to reply to that. So we stayed in silence, stunned.

(Y/N)’s point of view

Two weeks after Barnes decided to “reassign” most of the BAU members, we were all going insane and I was ready for revenge. One thing is wanting out of the team ‘cos I want to do what I love, and another thing is having some bureaucratic asshole telling me what to do, when to do it, and how.

I hated that bitch.

Do you wanna know what else I hated during those two weeks? All the students that were falling for my husband at the academy. Linda Barnes wasn’t joking when she said she was gonna help me get more classes to teach along with Spencer. She got me a whole linguistic course for young cadets at the academy. And the fact the course’s teacher was me, Doctor Reid, caused a lot of confusion among the female students.

- “Excuse me.”- one of them raised her hand during class.- “I was told this class was taught by Doctor Reid.”

- “Yes, that’s me.”- I explained with an innocent smile, not knowing what was about to happen.

- “As in… doctor Spencer Reid?”- she asked, confused.

- “Oh no, sorry. That’s my husband. It’s a common mistake, we both have PhDs. ”

- “He is… your husband? Spencer is married?”- I could see on her face ‘cos her heart was breaking.

- “Yes, been married for almost nine years now. I don’t know how that could be relevant for the class, but…”- I paused and noticed a few more girls in the auditorium were shocked.- “Anyone else took this class thinking it was my husband’s?”

Eleven more girls raised their hands.

- “You can leave if you want.”- I simply answered and tried not to shoot daggers at any of them. Frank always says I do that when I am mad. Spencer agrees, which makes it even more believable.

Two weeks and life was making me feel like I hadn’t been grateful for my job. Don’t get me wrong, I loved teaching, but there was something incredibly wrong about the way Barnes had pushed us away from the BAU. Garcia was in Cyber Crimes and she was going insane. Prentiss was with the OPR, hating every second of it, especially her teammate, a guy called James Odenkirk, who kept getting on her nerves. JJ kept Spencer informed about the BAU and the lack of cases the team had. Barnes kept JJ, Simmons, and Alvez on the bench, not authorizing any case work until they got one that would- and I quote - “Make the FBI look good.”

It was like she was trying to be hated. And succeeding.

When Prentiss called and invited me over for a ladies' night with Tara, I was in before I could even reply. I texted Spencer and asked if he could stay with the kid for a while. That was the only good side of that whole deal, being there with our babies every day. You could see how they loved having us there for bedtime stories, driving them to school, and cuddling.

- “Who knew there were so many dysfunctional partners in the Bureau?”- Tara chuckled as she told us her experience as a therapist for FBI partners in crisis. We stood on Emily’s balcony, holding a glass of red, trying to make sense of what was happening.

- “I'm learning the hard way. I had three stakeouts with Odenkirk last week.”

- “He sounds like such a charming bud.”- I teased and Emily rolled her eyes

- “Oh yeah, we know how much you love hanging out with him.”- Tara added as we both chuckled, like kids.

- “And it's one thing to be out in the field with him, but sitting with him in a car for hours on end. He smells like dirty tighty whities dipped in sweat.”- Emily’s description actually made him look worse word by word.

- “Gross!!”- I replied, disguised.

- “Barnes really knew how to punish you.”- Tara added with a short smile.- “I mean, sticking you with him. A not-so-subtle reference to what happens to agents who transgress.”

- “And there is no dirt on Barnes in the OPR database. She is squeaky clean.”- we both turned to Emily after her confession, shocked.

- “You pulled her file?”- Tara asked and sipped her wine.

- “I thought maybe we'd get lucky.”- Emily replied trying to look innocent. Which she wasn't at all.

- “I’m guessing that bitch knows how to hide her dirty laundry.”- I finished my glass and rested my elbow on the edge of Emily’s balcony. My friends stood by my side, mimicking my movement.

- “So what now?”- Tara asked

- “Refill?”- I replied and moved my empty glass. Em grabbed the bottle and filled our glasses, as she spoke.

- “I don't know what our next move is. I’m sorry girls.”

- “Well, we have got to think of something. I do not know how much more of this assignment I can take.”- Tara mumbled and I agreed.

- “Eleven students left my class today ‘cos they thought it was Spencer’s.”- I announced and kept my eyes on the horizon as I spoke.- “Eleven. That was half of my audience.”

- “What are you talking about? Why would they…”

- “Because I have a hot husband, Tara! I knew that, but I never thought these stupid students would drool so shamelessly for him! You should have seen their faces when I told them I am his wife.”

- “You told them? Why?”- Emily asked, nearly laughing at my face.

- “Because one of those brats interrupted my class asking if there was any kind of mistake, ‘cos she was expecting Dr. Reid.”- I explained and closed my eyes, mortified.

- “They interrupted you? To ask for Spencer?”- Tara was shocked.

- “Apparently my husband is the current eye candy of the department. His classes are full, but most of the attendees are auditing, just to look at him and drool.”- I finally confessed to someone what had been tormenting me that week.

- “Does he know? What has he said about it?”

- “He has no idea!”- I argued and took another sip of wine.- “He is just so happy people are interested in his classes, I don’t have the heart to tell him.”

- “Then don’t.”- Emily suggested. - “The kid is enjoying teaching, sometimes I feel that’s what he was born to do. I wouldn’t want to spoil it for him just because a bunch of girls are drooling over him. You know they are harmless. Spencer would never cheat on you.”

- “Prentiss has a point, Reid is crazy for you and the kids. He would never jeopardize that for anything in the world.”

I nodded and looked at my friends. Having them around meant the world. I missed working with them and hanging out with them daily.

The next day, I was preparing for my following class when Luke called. He asked us to meet at Prentiss’ for a case. Apparently, JJ didn’t get permission to take a case, and we were going to go behind Barnes’ back and investigate it anyway. Sounded like my team, and my kind of plan.

Spencer showed up in my class and stood by the door as I gathered my things. He didn’t have to say a thing, I knew he knew. He was beaming with excitement. Of course, my husband missed the BAU. He was born to catch unsubs, solve cases, and save the day. He has always been a hero.

- “Thank you, all of you, for coming. I've missed this, us.”- Emily said as the entire gang sat in her living room to investigate a case without formal authorization.

- “We met yesterday for drinks, Em.”- I teased her and she just chuckled.

- “I meant work, Reid. And be serious, before we do this, I need to be sure everyone understands what we're getting into. We have been told not to investigate this case. If we do, we are violating direct orders, and eventually, Barnes will find out. So, if something goes wrong or we don't catch this unsub, she will shut down the BAU and most likely fire all of us. No more reassignments.”

- “You know what?”- JJ said, looking incredibly fed up with anything Barnes’ related- “Even if everything does go right and we do catch our unsub, I mean, the same thing could happen.”

- “Right. Barnes would try to spin it, labeling the BAU a rogue unit that needs to be shut down.”- Simmons knew what he was talking about.

- “Right. So if anyone has doubts, no shame, no judgment.”- Emily said and looked at us, waiting for a reaction. Like any of us would walk away from a case.

- “The BAU started in a room just like this one. If this is how it goes out, so be it.”- Rossi sounded defeated already. So I had to tease him a little, just to make him smile.

- “All right Coronell Cannelloni, no need to get sentimental.”- and he turned to me with a warm grin.

- “We're all in?”- Spencer asked and the entire team nodded. I held his hand, knowing that was something he wanted to do, work with our friends, solve the case, catch the bad guys. And most of all, kick Linda Barnes’ ass.

But, it turned out Prentiss’ warning wasn’t a bluff. Only 24 hours later, JJ was forced to turn over her baggage and her gun, after asking Barnes to open the file of an investigation she had closed a few years before. However, that wasn’t going to stop us. If anything, it made us crack the case, and work harder, even from the shadows.

JJ kept working, and Penelope, from Cyber Crimes, managed to get us the crime scene pictures without getting us caught.

Rossi might have mentioned earlier that day the charm of doing the right thing, even in the wrong way. It felt so fucking good when we got the unsub. I still wish I had been there to look at Barnes’ face when the team caught the psycho and saved the senator’s daughter he had kidnapped. And not only that but Emily told the senator himself that Barnes had fired JJ for trying to solve the case. That woman didn’t stand a chance. She was out before we knew it.

- “I couldn’t wait until morning!!”- Garcia beamed as she walked into the bullpen, holding a box filled with all the toys she keeps on her desk.

- “You weren't the only one.”- JJ said as Luke quickly moved and grabbed Garcia’s box. I stared at that sweet acting coming from a couple that barely seemed to get along, and I realized those two had some angry sex coming their way. If only Luke didn’t have a girlfriend.

- “You look great.”- my husband said to Penelope and she nearly jumped in excitement.

- “I feel great. You guys really did it!”

- “Ohh, I wish I could have been there to see Barnes' face when the senator showed up.”- Tara whined and I joined her immediately.

- “Me too!! Was she fuming from her ears? Did she send daggers from her eyes? I need a full description of the scene, please!”- I begged from my desk as I finished setting the family pictures I had kept there for years.

- “I thought she was gonna melt like the wicked witch of the west when he said Prentiss could hire whoever she wanted.”- Simmons described and we all chuckled at the thought.

- “You think she'll back off for good?”- Luke asked, and we all turned to Prentiss, who stood with Rossi at the top of the stairs outside her office.

- “The director called me.”- she started.- “He said Barnes was told to keep her hands off the BAU.

- “And so, we live to fight another day. Ladies and gentlemen, we're back!”

We all cheered and lifted our cups of coffee. It felt good to be back at the BAU, with my family. Though I wanted to keep teaching at Georgetown, I wasn’t ready to fully leave my friends. Especially knowing how much Spencer loved being there. 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Next chapter

[b1nniecat]

🎶 counterpoint 🎶

chapter III: resonance.

pairing: college!au park wonbin x fem!reader

content warnings: swearing

wc: 2.1k

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♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. ♫⋆｡

The campus café was packed, the low hum of chatter mingling with the hiss of steaming milk and the clink of ceramic cups. Y/N sat tucked into a corner booth, her notebook splayed open in front of her, a half-finished iced latte slowly sweating on the table.

The page was a mess of scribbled-out lines, arrowed rewrites, and faint coffee stains. Her pen hovered over the paper, fingers trembling slightly as she tried to form the next sentence.

“I was thinking we could build the song structure around a softer acoustic verse before leading into a stronger instrumental chorus—kind of like a gradual climb.”

Wonbin’s dismissive voice echoed in her mind.

“That’s basic. Everyone does that.”

Y/N gritted her teeth, crossing out yet another line.

Too cheesy.

Too dramatic.

Too basic.

The words spiraled in her head, layering over one another until her chest felt tight.

“Ugh,” she muttered under her breath, smacking her pen down on the table and leaning back in her seat. Her eyes scanned the café aimlessly, looking for anything—anything—to pull her out of this loop.

A couple laughed nearby, sharing a dessert. A student in the corner dozed off with his head resting on an open textbook.

But her gaze kept slipping back to her notebook.

Her lyrics had always been her safe space. A place where she could put her emotions into something tangible, where they’d make sense. But now every word felt hollow, every idea stale.

A chair scraped across the floor, and Y/N glanced up to see Ningning plopping into the seat across from her, a bright smoothie in hand.

“Well, you look like you’ve been through it,” Ningning said cheerfully.

Y/N let out a weak laugh. “Thanks.”

Ningning’s sharp eyes flickered to the chaotic scribbles in Y/N’s notebook. “Writing again?”

Y/N shrugged, closing the notebook with a soft thud. “Trying. Failing.”

“Creative block?”

“More like… creative self-loathing.”

Ningning hummed, tilting her head slightly. “Is this about—?”

“No,” Y/N said quickly, cutting her off. “It’s not about him. It’s just me. I’m just… stuck.”

Ningning raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. “Alright, we’re not spiraling today. Close the notebook. Take a breath.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, leaning back in her seat as Ningning pushed her smoothie across the table.

“Here. Try this. It’s supposed to taste like sunshine and rainbows or something.”

Y/N took the cup and sipped hesitantly. Her face scrunched up immediately. “Why is it so sweet? Did you order liquid candy?”

“Excuse me, this is peak beverage science. You just have boring taste buds.”

They both laughed softly, the tension in Y/N’s shoulders easing slightly. For a moment, it felt like the frustration clouding her head had cracked open, just a little.

Ningning’s gaze flickered back to the notebook, now closed but still sitting between them like an elephant in the room.

“Okay, serious question.” She leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. “Are you stuck because you think your ideas are bad, or because someone else made you think they are?”

Y/N froze.

She opened her mouth, closed it, then shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“It kinda does.” Ningning poked her straw into her smoothie with exaggerated focus. “Because if it’s the second one, then he wins. And we don’t let broody boys with questionable social skills win.”

Y/N let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is simple.” Ningning grinned, winking. “Now, are we gonna sit here and let you keep angsting, or do you wanna grab a snack and people-watch with me?”

Y/N hesitated for half a second before she nodded. “Alright. Snack run sounds good.”

“Attagirl.” Ningning stood up and motioned for Y/N to follow.

As they walked toward the counter, Ningning chattered about some guy in her econ class who pronounced “macroeconomics” like it was a new species of pasta. Y/N found herself smiling—not because her frustrations had disappeared, but because, for a moment, they didn’t feel so heavy.

But as they stood in line, waiting to order, Y/N’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out and glanced at the notification.

Y/N’s stomach flipped slightly, her thumb hovering over the notification before she locked her phone again and shoved it back into her pocket.

She sighed softly, shoving her hands into her pockets.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

The practice room was dim, the glow from the lone dusty lamp casting uneven shadows across the scratched wooden floor. Scattered sheet music and pencil-smudged lyrics lay abandoned around Wonbin, his guitar resting silently across his lap. His head was tilted back against the wall, eyes tracing faint cracks in the ceiling paint, his fingers motionless over the strings.

His mind wouldn’t quiet.

The same intrusive thoughts circled endlessly—the sharp edge in Y/N’s voice, the flicker of hurt in her eyes, the ghost of a conversation that felt like a stone lodged in his chest. And underneath it all, the ever-present weight of her. His ex. The lingering ache of words left unsaid and feelings left unresolved.

The faint sound of sneakers against the hallway floor reached him before the door creaked open. A mop of brown hair peeked in, followed by Seunghan’s lazy grin and Sungchan’s wide-eyed curiosity.

“There he is,” Seunghan said, stepping inside with a faint smirk. “The prodigal guitarist, lost in the void of his own thoughts.”

Sungchan followed, dropping his bag carelessly by the door and sliding onto the floor without hesitation. “You know, if you sit here long enough staring at the wall, it might start talking back.”

Wonbin didn’t move, his gaze still fixed somewhere far above them. “What do you guys want?”

Seunghan nudged a piece of crumpled sheet music with his foot before leaning against the edge of the table. “Honestly? To make sure you don’t turn into a piece of furniture in here.”

Sungchan propped his elbows on his knees, studying Wonbin carefully. “You’ve been here since, what, lunchtime? It’s dark outside now.”

Wonbin let out a faint sigh through his nose but didn’t respond.

Seunghan crouched by the table, leaning against it as he studied Wonbin’s face. “Alright, Bin. What’s the plan? Sit here until you grow roots or actually talk to us?”

“Not in the mood,” Wonbin muttered.

“No shit,” Sungchan said with a snort, tearing open his bag of snacks and tossing a chip into his mouth. “But, like, you’re also not in the mood to not think about it, so maybe just let it out. Otherwise, we’re all just wasting time.”

Wonbin’s fingers tightened slightly around the neck of his guitar. He didn’t look up.

“You already know what happened,” he said after a long pause, his voice low. “What’s the point?”

“The point,” Seunghan said, pulling a chair over and plopping into it, “is that you’re obviously still beating yourself up about it. And we’re here to… I don’t know, bully you out of your funk.”

Wonbin’s lips twitched faintly at that, but the small flicker of amusement disappeared almost immediately. “I was out of line,” he admitted softly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “She didn’t deserve that.”

“Well, duh,” Sungchan said, stuffing another chip into his mouth. “But, like… you’re human, Bin. You had a bad day. It happens.”

“It’s not just a bad day,” Wonbin shot back, his voice sharper now. “I—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply as he leaned his head back against the wall. “I’ve been off for weeks. Since…”

He didn’t have to finish. The breakup. The ex. They both knew.

Seunghan tilted his head slightly. “You still hung up on her?”

“No,” Wonbin said quickly, too quickly. His hands flexed over the guitar again. “It’s not about her anymore. It’s just… everything. I feel like I’m carrying this weight that I can’t… I don’t know. I can’t drop it. Even when I want to.”

Silence hung heavy in the room for a beat.

“You lashed out because you’re tired,” Seunghan said finally, his tone softer now. “Not just physically, but, like… emotionally. And it’s okay to admit that. No one’s expecting you to be fine all the time.”

“Yeah,” Sungchan chimed in. “But also, you’ve got the self-awareness thing down already. You know you messed up, and you feel bad about it. That’s literally, like, 80% of the problem solved. You just need to do something about the last 20%.”

Wonbin frowned slightly. “Like what?”

“I dunno. Start by apologizing?” Sungchan said with a shrug. “She probably already thinks you hate her, but maybe if you, like… don’t bark at her tomorrow, it’ll help.”

Seunghan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You don’t have to fix everything in one day, Bin. Just… don’t let it get worse. You care about this project, right?”

Wonbin nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“Then show her that,” Seunghan said simply. “Start there.”

Wonbin’s lips pressed into a thin line as he mulled over their words. He let out a slow breath, his fingers finally strumming the strings of his guitar once—soft, hesitant.

Seunghan stood up, clapping a hand lightly on Wonbin’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Sungchan bought snacks, and I’m starving.”

Sungchan waved the bag of chips in the air. “Consider it an incentive.”

Wonbin hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the scattered papers on the floor, before finally standing up with a small sigh. “Fine.”

Sungchan grinned as he slung an arm around Wonbin’s shoulders. The three of them walked out of the practice room together, the dim hallway feeling just a little brighter.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly in the hallway as Y/N walked briskly, her tote bag swinging with each step. The evening chill lingered in the air, clinging to her skin even after the warmth of the library. Her headphones hung loosely around her neck, her mind still spinning from hours of studying and the earlier conversation with Ningning.

As she rounded the corner toward the dorm elevators, voices echoed faintly from the opposite direction. She glanced up instinctively and froze.

Wonbin.

He was walking a few steps behind two other guys, his head slightly down, hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket. One of them—tall, animated, with a lopsided grin—was laughing about something, his voice loud and carrying in the otherwise empty hall. The other nudged him lightly, grinning along.

Her pace faltered for half a second before she forced herself forward. Her gaze locked ahead, her expression steely, but her grip on the strap of her bag tightened.

The trio grew closer, their voices overlapping until one of them—not Wonbin—caught sight of her. The laughter died down abruptly, and their pace slowed.

Wonbin lifted his head just enough for his gaze to meet hers. He froze for a second—too long to be subtle—and she didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched.

The other two guys glanced between them, brows raised slightly, clearly picking up on the sudden tension in the air.

Y/N didn’t stop walking. Her eyes narrowed slightly, just enough to make her point. Her chin lifted a fraction higher as she passed them, not sparing even a glance at the other two.

“Hey,” one of the guys—the taller one, with the grin—said awkwardly, clearly addressing her.

Y/N didn’t respond.

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable, stretching out as her footsteps echoed behind her.

Once she turned the corner, disappearing from view, Sungchan turned to Wonbin with an exaggerated blink. “Wait… was that—?”

Seunghan didn’t give him time to finish. “That was her, wasn’t it?” He covered his mouth with his hand, nudging Wonbin’s shoulder. “Dude.”

“Shut up,” Wonbin muttered, his shoulders stiffening visibly.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Sungchan held up a hand, his tone somewhere between teasing and incredulous. “That’s the girl you were talking about?”

Wonbin didn’t answer. His hands were still jammed in his hoodie pockets, his jaw tight as his gaze remained fixed ahead.

Seunghan let out a startled laugh. “Bro, she didn’t even look at you. That’s brutal.”

Wonbin let out a harsh exhale, dragging a hand down his face. “And here I thought you guys would take something seriously for once.”

“Alright, alright,” Sungchan said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “But, uh… have fun trying to mend whatever you managed to fuck up in the span of a day.”

Seunghan snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. She looks ready to deck you next time.”

“I hate you both.”

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. ♫⋆｡

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🏷️ @sftsohee @wonychu

a/n: hi!! going to be a little busy in the upcoming weeks but thankfully i worked ahead and have chapters 4 and 5 in the drafts already :3 updates will be a little slow until i find the time to basically finish all chapters in one sitting. after that, it’ll be consistent posting!!

- b1nniecat (>ᴗ•) !

[kathlare]

espresso

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie reunites with her childhood friends Alex and Nat for a few days of songwriting before her next big tour.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 12th, 2023 - Chinon, France

liked by taylorswift, landonorris, and others

ameliedayman: dtf (down to france)

View all 986 comments

thisisrozzi: Paris is a vibe, but you are the vibe. Also, the new music is going to break everyone. 🔥💣 → ameliedayman: @thisisrozzi LET'S GO! I swear we’ve got something wild coming!

alexwolffofficial: back in the studio with my favorite partner in crime. → ameliedayman: @alexwolffofficial literally this is exactly what i needed

emmachamberlain: um, so when is the world gonna be blessed with this new music?? We’re all waiting 😭😭 → ameliedayman: @emmachamberlain soon, my friend, soon.

mayahawke: Amelie, you’re killing it. So proud of you always. 🖤 → ameliedayman: @mayahawke love you my girl.

musicfreak_97: WAIT. Lando still liking the posts?? Can we get a follow though?? 👀👀 → landoisback: @musicfreak_97 ummm, let’s not read into it too much, ok? 🙃

frenchvibesonly: She’s really out here making music in France while looking like that?? Queen behavior. 👑

victoriadayman: Watching you grow and do what you love makes me so proud. Keep shining, kiddo. 🌟 → ameliedayman: @victoriadayman you’re the reason I keep going. Love you, mom.

elysiadayman: MY. TALENTED. SISTER. Always making magic, and always so gorgeous while doing it. 😍 → ameliedayman: @elysiadayman I’m just doing my thing, love. Thanks for always supporting me!

alexwolffsupporter: i’m just so glad they are back in the studio together. iconic duo coming soon! → onlyalexwolff: @alexwolffsupporter they are literally the definition of “it” couple when it comes to music. Periodt.

rosie_rocks: THE NEW MUSIC IS GOING TO BE INSANE I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES 😩

moodmusic_89: Alex and Amelie back together in the studio?? Can’t wait for the magic they make together again! 🎶💫 → alexandamelieforever: @moodmusic_89 yasss, we all know these two are a hit-making combo!

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

Chinon, a sleepy place in France, had all the charm you could imagine—a quaint old town, cobbled streets, and views of the Loire River. Amelie had picked it specifically for the solitude, the space to breathe before Asia, before the crazy tour schedule started again. And who better to spend a few days with than Alex, Nat, and Rozzi? Alex and Nat had been her closest friends since childhood, long before her career took off, long before they became too busy for lazy days like this.

They were scattered around the tiny music studio they’d rented for a few days to write. The coffee machine hummed in the corner, and the faint buzz of summer insects outside mingled with the soft rustling of papers and guitar strings.

Alex was leaning back in his chair, his feet up on the desk, strumming his guitar absentmindedly while Nat sat on the edge of a couch, scribbling something in a notebook. Amelie was pacing the room, her mind racing but her body trying to stay still. The air was thick with the easy comfort of old friends, the type of silence that was filled with a thousand unspoken words.

—You’re overthinking it again, Am,— Nat said, not looking up from his notebook. He knew her too well.

—I’m not overthinking,— Amelie muttered, glancing at him. —I’m just... what do we want this song to feel like? Like, is it a love song or... is it something else?—

—Both,— Alex chimed in without hesitation, strumming a chord. —It’s gotta be both. You know, the kind of love that makes you wanna stay up all night thinking about someone, even when you don’t want to.—

—Yeah,— Amelie said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. She stared at the blank page in front of her. —But, like, how do we say that without sounding cheesy? I don’t want it to feel like one of those songs that’s trying too hard.—

—I think the key is in the details,— Nat said, finally looking up. —It’s about the little things, the way someone makes you feel, the stuff they do that drives you crazy. That’s what makes it real.—

Alex nodded. —Exactly. Like, how do you make something as simple as coffee feel important? How does the way someone drinks their espresso tell a story?—

Amelie chuckled softly. —Okay, I get it. I’ll try. Let’s see what we come up with.—

She tapped the pen against the table, her mind pulling in memories of late-night conversations, of moments when everything felt alive and real and a little bit reckless. Her mind wandered to the past—back to the late-night gaming sessions with Lando and the way he used to flirt with her in that teasing way, always keeping her on her toes. Her heart twisted for a moment, but she pushed the thought away. She wasn’t in that place anymore.

—Alright, let’s start with the hook,— she said, trying to focus. —We need something that sticks. Something you can’t get out of your head.—

—Espresso,— Alex suggested, taking another swig of his coffee. —Like, you drink it and it’s like: bam. Instant energy. But there’s a whole other thing going on with it. You know, the buzz, the obsession.—

—Yeah,— Nat agreed. —Espresso, like the way someone gets stuck in your head, the way they keep you up at night even when you don’t want them to.—

—That’s it,— Amelie said, the words clicking into place. —It’s not just about the drink. It’s about the way they make you feel. It’s like... they’re your fix, even when you don’t need one. But you can’t stop thinking about them.—

The mood shifted in the room, like something had finally clicked. The words started coming fast now. Nat scribbled something in his notebook, and Alex leaned forward, tossing out ideas as Amelie joined in, all of them feeding off the energy of the others. It was pure magic, that moment when the song started taking shape, as natural as breathing.

Amelie started humming a melody, the rhythm of the words matching the pulse of her heart. The flicker of excitement that spread across the room was palpable, as if they were all discovering something new together.

—Okay, let’s go for it,— Amelie said, her voice now filled with purpose. —Something like... "Now he’s thinkin' ‘bout me every night, oh... Is it that sweet? I guess so."—

They worked quickly, feeding off the momentum as they pieced the song together. The lines came one after the other, easy and fast, like they were meant to fall into place. Alex played with the chords, Nat hummed along, and Amelie found herself lost in the flow of it all. For a brief moment, it was as if time didn’t exist—just three friends, creating something bigger than themselves.

Later that night, after hours of recording and laughing and reworking lines, they finally had something they were all happy with. They sat together in the small, cozy studio, the air thick with exhaustion and the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Alex hit play, and the first notes of Espresso filled the room.

Amelie’s heart raced. She wasn’t used to hearing herself like this—raw, unpolished, but somehow real.

As the song progressed, they couldn’t help it. They jumped up, clapping and singing along to the words, completely off-key but too happy to care. Alex and Nat were spinning each other around in a ridiculous dance, and Amelie, despite the nerves that gnawed at her stomach, found herself laughing harder than she had in a long time.

Amelie looked at her two childhood friends—her constants, her partners in crime—and felt a wave of gratitude. Maybe things had been tough lately. Maybe the relationships in her life had become complicated, stretched thin across time zones and missed moments. But here, in this tiny studio, surrounded by the people who had known her before all the fame, before all the chaos, everything felt right. For once, nothing was rushing her forward. It was just her, Alex, Nat, and a song they had created together.

She couldn’t help but smile, even as she felt the weight of her recent breakups. It all seemed so distant now. The song played on, louder, and they kept dancing and laughing, completely unaware of how much Espresso was going to shape her future.

[old-fandom]

HELLO! I HAVE AN ESTABLISHED TEEN STANCEST IDEA!

Idk what I would call this but basically, it's "Ford is part of a DD&MD group with a bunch of other asshole losers who basically use Ford for his basement and Stan is the stupid but hot twin brother that the guys all talk made shit about both sexually and bullying wise. Ford is pissed about it."

Basically, Ford is invited into a group at high school with a bunch of other outcast losers who decide to let Ford join because he has a basement they can use to play. They used the play at another guys house but their mom kicked them out after they broke one of her coffee tables wrestling over a dice roll. Ford, for the first time, finally has a group of guys that he could call his friends. These "friends" are assholes. They're comic book snobs and misogynistic white knights and anti-deodorant wearing teenager boys. Think incel but less "I want to kill women" and more "I am smarter than everyone here due to my impressive and ultra rare card binder and everyone else is a poser if you don't know this trivia fact!" But none the less, Ford is accepted into the fold. He's able to actually play the game, or at least, be DM, which he doesn't mind! In fact, he likes being in charge. He's still a little shy but he's slowly cracking out of his shell, being less cagey and more open with jabbing back at the others taunts and even being able to continue the flow of conversation effortlessly. He's able to be nerdly aggressive where his threats, his taunts, his nerdy accomplishments that aren't academic are recognized and envied over. It kind of works for the group and Ford is happy.

Except for one thing.

They all have a thing for Stanley.

And Ford hates that they have a thing for Stanley.

Stanley is perfectly happy with Ford having a friend group, especially one that lets him nerd out to the max. He usually doesn't bother them when they're over, either because he doesn't want to be around that much nerdiness or because the smell shuns him away. But this doesn't mean he hasn't gone down there before.

The first time he went down there, it was to tell Ford that Ma wanted him to take a look at the telephone before he went to bed. She thinks one of the wires is loose again and he might need to fix it. Ford says he will and Stan leaves. That's when the comments start up.

They start jaunting about his wit, asking Ford what it's like to have a dumb jock for a brother. Ford defends Stan, saying he's more than just a dumb jock. In fact, he's not really a jock at all, he just likes boxing. But it doesn't stop the conversation. They start sharing stories about Stans exploits around school, whether it be one of his infamous fights with the Cramplter gang or him being so atrociously stupid in class that the teacher walked out. It finally breaks off once someone rolls a Nat 20 and the campaign continues.

But it doesn't stop completely.

Every time Stanly comes down for something, either to tell Ford something, bring the group snacks that their Ma made for them (swiping one for himself), grabbing something for his Pa to sell, or really anything, the group always starts talking about Stanley. And it makes Ford blood boil. He'll defend him alright, and he'll make their campaign a fucking nightmare for everything they've said, but he's scared to really do something. This is the first friend group he's ever had and he doesn't wanna lose it, even though something in him tells him that he'd be better off without them talking shit about Stanley every time he comes down.

Then the faithful day happens when Stan comes down after a shower, no shirt on, hair wet, wearing a part of dolphin shorts as it's the middle of summer. He's down there grabbing a drink from Ford's DD&MD group snack tray. They took the last of the Pit Cola and he'd be damned if he didn't get one. So he does and leaves without really saying anything, unaware of the eyes staring at him all the way.

Ford braces himself for the onslaught of his brother but nothing. The group continues the game like nothing happened. And Ford is excited because maybe they've finally gotten it together, seen that Stan really isn't just those things, he is so much more. He's kind hearted and compassionate, he's artistic and business smart, he's hands on and crafty, he's strong and hunky and good looking and so so sexy and - Ford has to shake his head. Now is not the time to get a boner.

Ford's Ma calls him in the middle of the game for something and he has to leave them for a second. When he comes back and over hears the group talking about Stan but it's not about how stupid he looks - it's about how slutty he is. He stops on the stairs and listens in.

He hears them make incredibly inappropriate remarks about his brother, about what he must look like on his knees, wishing that they put the drinks on the ground so he would have to bend all the way over in those shorts to get it, that if it weren't for his body, he'd be a waste of air. They joke about having sex with them, calling him slurs, doing things to him that Ford knows first hand Stan does not like to do. They talk about his chub, how they mock him for being fat, but hey, at least he has nice tits. They go on and on about it, unaware of the simmering Ford up the stairs. After hearing enough, Ford finally comes down, making them all unaware that he had been listening in on them for 10 minutes.

That session becomes the hardest, most brutal session, where Ford successfully kills all of their characters off. The guys get pissed at Ford, saying he did that shit on purpose, and Ford answers back that they're lucky it was only their characters he killed off and not the real people behind them, especially after those comments. They get into a fight, the guys saying that Ford shouldn't be wasting his time defending a stupid whore like Stanley, he'd only leave and hold back Ford. Ford finally snaps when one the guys mentions how easy it would be to get with Stanley, no matter what.

Ford ends up fist fighting the guys, beating the shit out of each other, breaking and ruining their game, destroying their papers and character sheets and models. His Pa ends up coming down stairs after hearing the commotion and kicks the guys out, telling them they aren't welcome back until they can pay for the broken table. They scramble and Ford is given a talking to about picking better people to hangout with and to clean up the mess.

Ford goes down stairs to find Stan already down there, going over the mess, still in his shorts and no shirt. Ford, still high on adrenaline, runs smack dab into Stanley, pushing him up against the wall and making out with him. Stan has no idea what spurred him on though he does have an inkling. He pushes Ford back just enough to ask him about the fight, seeing how Ford does have bruises on his knuckles.

Ford tells him it wasn't important, that they weren't all that much fun anyway, he'd rather spend his time with Stanley anyway. Stanley doesn't protest too much, and they end up having sex in the basement before cleaning up the mess.

Later that night, Ford does properly take Stan to bed, making love to him and showering him in praise and acceptance. Stan lets him.

He knew going down their in those shorts would cause a stir, he just didn't know it would go so far into his favor.

[keeps-ache]

buttered noodles 💫💛🍜

[bottomless-fries]

got my blood pressure taken the other day,,, 171/90 🥴

[kuromi-hoemie]

i shared a peanut butter cookie with my manager today

[majoringinsarcasm]

I must survive this week and the holidays are literally happening so depression is in Full Swing. Please send me ridiculous narumitsu meet cute ideas I could possibly think about and maybe write later bc the rush of posting new things might be the only thing to save me since I can’t quit my job OTL

[queenangella]

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