#// so as much as she wants to be close to people and wants to be loved and love others

[reneezsq]

forelsket

forelsket (noun.): the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.

❛ !¡ pairing; aventurine; sunday x gender neutral!reader.

❛ !¡ summary; a heartbeat too irregular, breathing quick and shaky hands sweating under expensive gloves. who could have thought getting attached is as sweet as your favorite dessert ?

❛ !¡ warnings; it is specified for both that reader likes anything with sugar.

❛ !¡ a/n; kinda self indulgent for me and one of my besties cuz she loves aventurine too much and i have a big fat crush on sunday (gotta cuddle the angel and the gambler)

♡–,✎ smitten:;

AVENTURINE

. never has he fancied himself over falling head over heels with anyone for the matter. any sort of relationship he could have formed, or bond to a certain extension, with anybody was surely for his own selfish desires. as a way to get over his life the control he lacked for so many years, a hope to regain mastery over himself and feel that for once in his life, all over again, his choices belong to no other than him.

. and at first he loathed the thought of falling in love. he knew all about the wonders it does on one’s mind: taking away their ability to form a coherent speech, the loss of the mastery of your own body and a certain yearning for the person of your affection. it scared him to some degree that if he ever fell in love he would yet lose all over again the freedom he fought to regain.

. at first, your meeting was only supposed to remain as a simple meeting. you were a new recruit to the ipc and he had been appointed with showing you around the main building. he had never planned to stick around too close or to engage in a full conversation. but his plans were thrown out of the window as he gazed at your pretty face. eyes sparkling at the view of someone’s cake in the fridge with some drool seemingly forming at the corner of your mouth. you looked so… how can he even explain such a feeling to himself or anybody else ?

. at that moment, he felt like simply coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you. only to keep you within his grasp and make sure you will never run away or be harmed. no matter if you are taller than him. but he had to shake away the thoughts to start the visit. and also maybe to know you better, after all only falling for one’s looks isn’t as wise as it can be, knowing how many beautiful people are the most dispensable people out the whole universe.

. just like he had dreaded, you were oh too kind for his heart to take it lightly. curiously peering at every corner and listening to him as he talked about the necessities of the work without too much details. he had to look away more than once and pray the pink dye on his glasses would conceal the ever growing blush on his cheeks. seriously, how unfair can you be ?! making him all flushy inside that he almost wants to melt when you waved him goodbye to go to your section to get to work.

. but, for some reasons, he did not find this uncomfortable in the slightest bit. his body was still his at the end of the day, and only the brushing of your fingers against his gloved ones remained in his mind. for once, he wished to take off his glove to feel some contact for the first time since so long. if it’s yours, he doesn’t feel like he will mind it too much.

SUNDAY

. he never really spared any real thought towards loving and being loved. he had more important matters like the health of his sister and her happiness, his role as the spokesman of the family and all the worries that came with taking care of penacony. so, truthfully, the idea never really came to his mind, and if it did he would discard it away without any real second chances for it to last.

. but during certain nights, he indulges in those kind of feelings that swirl deep within him as he wonders how he will feel if he falls in love with an individual. will his biggest strength to deliver eloquent speeches to move away a whole crowd for his own benefits turn into sand if he gazes too long in the eyes of the one that would steal his heart ? would his face heat up in the haste of their shared love and would he find himself holding their hands with a grip a bit too tight ? who knows. maybe he does want to fall in love in the end…

. the first moment your gazes crossed paths was during a concert of his sister. he enjoys watching those above all else. drowning in her beautiful melodies and allowing himself to breathe in the imagery of a field of flowers where he can feel the heartbeat of the world as he lies down the grass. ah, what a beautiful view of the sky painted in the hues of the ocean. how much he enjoys indulging himself in such lovely views created by the dreams of his mind.

. this is when he first saw you. all panicked in the crowd and breathing heavily because everyone was being too rough and too noisy next to you. he felt a pang of empathy towards this strangely beautiful stranger that got the unluck of being stuck next to so many disrespectful people. and his steps made him walk closer to you. a hand over their shoulder to catch your attention before he led you away from the concert.

. when you two went to relax in a small cafe away from everyone else, he turned on his phone to watch the live performance of his sister’s concert (which he has free access to). maybe you cannot be there, but at least you will still be able to hear her singing and see the thing as a full. afterwards, one drink in silence turned into two, then three as the conversation continued onwards. and he found himself unable to stop it, wanting to know more and more about you. and for once he did not want to know that in case it was needed, he was curious.

. when he bid you farewell and returned home, his sister couldn’t stop herself from telling him he seemed in such a brighter mood than he was at the start of the day. the honest smile in his lips and gaze dwelling back into what had happened that day. he simply told her he got a new acquaintance as he stared at the screen on his phone, with your number on it. well, that was a very precious day now, wouldn’t you say so ?

♡–,✎ wooing:;

AVENTURINE

. he’s insufferable. honestly. when he got over his little crush, all that stayed was a weird mix between the mask he puts over himself for the attire of confidence he had put over his own heart and the clear indication that you might be a bit more in his eyes. however, you will never know if it is genuine or not for a while. a gambler never reveals his cards.

. instead, the sole lead that remained to help you in your decision making was the small gestures he did all the time, his constant bothering you with calls, messages and funny little notes found in your office as well as the never ending questions by his side. one could be a coincidence, two was weird, after three you knew there was no getting away from that sickeningly stunning man you both adored and loathed sometimes (how can he be so adorably annoying ?)

. your missions end quickly, for one reason: you do nothing instead sitting next to him as he bets his life for the fifth time tonight. you know he will win but you cannot help the faceplan on your face as he proudly places down his cards for a final round and challenges opponents thinking they are a bit too lucky. you are no fool in front of his hand behind his back or the unmistakable shaking of it as it rests against his thigh under the table in a closed shaky fist. you never really dared to hold it, as to not break any bound that might last between you too. but as he looks at you to see the fondness with which you gaze at him, he feels like he already hit the jackpot.

. those nights always end up with your fist lightly hitting the top of his head after stealing his hat as a reminder that he is not eternal and he scared you to death. then he runs after you while making sure to remain slower, only to see the sun smiling back at him in all its glory. if you are lucky enough, he will let you wear it. fret not ! if he says no, attack him by the heartstrings with the cute big round eyes and a sad pout gracing your lips. he never won. his maximum is 26 seconds, dr. ratio counted for you one day. how kind.

. the type to use cringe pick up lines, but he is forgiven by his undying attractive looks. would call you the weirdest things during those times to make a bad joke meant to make your heart swoon. forgive him for being so bad, it’s his first time falling in love and not everyone is born with enough charisma to be both lucky in games and lucky in love. a loser, but one you comfort during his most unlucky defeats against your heart with a little peck in the cheeks. suddenly his mood is brighter and he is bringing you along to a shop or a restaurant.

. his money becomes yours the moment his heart was a bit faster and harder against his ribs. you could gaze at a cake from the other side of a window for 0.4 seconds and he had magically appeared inside. not like you complain but your stomach is starting to be a bit more demanding and whiny when you are close to him. he caught onto that and lightly poke you every time before heading towards another dinner you two will share. you will get your cake, but let’s get a healthy meal first to ensure you will stay all pretty and happy. he wouldn’t want you feeling bad over your body because he couldn’t resist your stare. he is no simp, promise (is that his fingers crossed behind his back ??)

. sometimes he comes to your house too. you two act like a couple more than you would both enjoy to admit. him lazily sipping on some coffee and answering calls here and there from the ipc while you are cooking or doing anything really. he could send you a weird meme of two cats biting each other with a “us <3” while you two are sharing a blanket and watching a film at the same time, in the same house, in the same room, in the same couch and almost cuddling. what a funny little man.

. his confession would be sweet. for once, no casino was involved during the whole night. you might think he was perhaps a bit sick but no, he was not ! feeling perfectly a–okay, although his perfume is a bit more prominent and for some reasons he is buying you more things than usual.

. please, let him talk first. he will not be able to say anything if you even dare to utter a word as you two arrive under the starry sky in an abandoned park. with some lamp, he will use morse code:

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-

. your answer was: ..--- ; and he felt like falling in love all over again as you both started laughing over your own dumb love towards one another. ignore the tears, he is just happy. and perhaps this small shooting star was his sister’s best wishes.

SUNDAY

. the first thing he ever does when he goes to meet you is buying you flowers. now you have a ton of bouquets around your house and had to convince him to maybe settle for something that you two could consume or else you would have enough plants for the funerals of all your family members, that is if the bouquets were not holding a deep message. yes, he loves the implicit. the ones he loves gifting you the most are orchids¹, red roses² for the classics as well as carnations³ and sunflowers⁴.

. the embodiment of a gentleman and i am not joking. for him, courting you is not something to be taken lightly. he is playing his future love life on the line and will not allow any mistake to be made on his end. he wants to win over your heart and be a big selfish as to remain the sole object of your affection, and he will accomplish such a goal but being as gentle as he can be with you — without, of course, being too overbearing or controlling with you. he wants something genuine, not you accepting his love because you felt forced to do such a thing based on his status as a leader or place in the family. hence why he will refuse for a certain while to talk about his profession, he will end up telling you, pinky promise, but not now yet.

. going back to the previous subject of him being a gentleman. he will hold the doors open for you, all the time and it can maybe turn into a competition if you try to beat him. his arms quickly around your waist to stop you as you two giggle like two teenagers a bit too smitten. walking down some stairs ? here, his hand. he wouldn’t want your ankle to be twisted. and the feeling of your hand in his is quite enjoyable too. i am also talking about pulling your chair for you (if you sit first he will do this tiktok trend of being unable to move the chair to have you check it so he can pull it for you), letting his shoulder be soaked when it rains and you have only one umbrella as well as kissing your knuckles when you two meet.

. he always has his hands on you, i swear. it is so very obvious he has fallen head over heels with you and even he cannot deny it any longer. but when his hand is always resting at your lower back — your consent is included, if you do not like it he will let you take hold of his arm instead — as you walk through a particularly crowded place in the streets or in a building. always the perfect guide to accompany you to your destination. travel in security, travel with sunday !

. do not think his sister is not involved in his plans to win over your heart, because if you think so you are solely mistaken. she already knows of his adoration for you and even gives him small pieces of advice. after all, she has a lot of fans trying to woo her, so she knows different tactics and will share those that make her a bit weak in the knees to help her brother with his soon–to–be–lover. she went as far as to do a concert with only the two of you, singing a love song while you were humming alongside her tune. he still cherishes this moment when he hasn’t seen you for a certain while.

. he never enters your home without the green flag to do so. the most he did the first few days you went out together was accompany you to the porch and flash a small wink your way, the two of you letting out small laughs at how corny and movie–like the whole ordeal has been. seriously, it feels like a mix of your favorite book tropes with all the cringy stuff that you can view in your favorite romance movies. but you two are a sucker for traditional romance, how can you be blamed ?

. now, for his confession, oh lord. he became the best husband in one night and you were feeling all hot in the face all day. because, yes, he booked a whole day of different activities the two of you could do together. from sharing a simple meal to making some poems. he wrote the best ballads and sonnets you have ever read in the entirety of your life — seriously, how can a man be so talented in such different fields ?

. at the end of the day, you two walked in a park where you both ended up sitting down on the same bench. there was barely no one around as it was late enough already, and when the lamps finally lit up, you saw the whole city come back to life for the night. it was a whole show in itself, to see the advertisements light up, the street lamp illuminating the roads and the atmosphere changing around the two of you.

. after a small quick breath, he placed a present upon your lap and let you open it. it consisted of a music box, playing one of the unreleased songs of his sister you had the pleasure to listen to with him. but there was a particularity: this was a love song. when you gazed back at one another, you both knew.

♡–,✎ engagement:;

AVENTURINE

. the bad pick up lines got worse. now he uses them when falling off the stairs, upon stumbling with his own two feet over some air and when he has a good hair day (clue: he always has good hair). so no, there is no escaping his constant praises and compliments and cringy flirting. but you’ll forgive him, won’t you ?

. he is so affectionate it feels like he became some glue next to you. there is no joke in that. when you two are at home to simply relax he will have his arms around you while doing anything at all. but don’t let your guard down, he might take off his clothes to move your shirt aside and rest his freezing hand upon your skin directly. just to hear your little squeals as you look up at him. his other hand will hold your cheek to feel the warmth burning at his fingertips before kissing it better as his own small apology. during moments like these, make it difficult to regain his love. more kisses for the two of you and more cuddling too.

. even in the casino he goes, he is affectionate too openly. he has really no shame screaming at the top of his lungs how much he loves you and the fact you are all he ever dreamt of having. your head is resting on his shoulder with one arm around your waist. he found that tracing forms on your skin is better than gripping a chip in secret, and now it comes naturally. if you ever fall asleep on him while he plays, he will not hesitate to take off his hate and put it on your to hide the lights from your eyes and allow you a better sleep. even when the game ended, he will stay at the table a few more moments to then give you the correct time to wake up from your little nap. i hope you don’t mind being awakened by kisses all over your face.

. his hat is the only thing he shares, sorry not sorry. his clothes are his and he wants to keep them as such. if you want to wear them he will happily buy you something similar, but the idea of sharing clothes is not something he cherishes that much. however, matching clothes ? this he doesn’t mind ! matching pajamas sets ? check. matching glasses ? check. matching accessories ? check. wearing matching pairs only add to the whole showing off you are his, doesn’t it ?

. he is not that possessive per say, maybe simply a bit paranoid that things might happen to you in hopes of getting to him. but he is truly aware you are capable and will not sugarcoat you (if you do not have any injury, get one as small as a paper cut and he is throwing dramatic gasps to make you laugh), but he will not hesitate to show that he is yours as much as you are his and no one can take you away from him. however, he can have his own insecurities. not look wise, come on that smirk on his face shows that he knows how pretty he is. no, it is more towards his gambling addiction and financial tendencies to spend everything without a care because of his insane luck. he knows that it might be a red flag, or you might be dragged away from him if he continues too much. you can kiss him better or show him an alternative (don’t do gacha games, please, he will know no limits at all you will worsen the problem dearest).

. all in all, you won your own little jackpot by being with him. sure, he has his own secrets and things he will probably never share with you. but at the end of the day you are both satisfied only holding each other’s hands as you dance under the stars like idiots or jump on the water that stayed in the streets after it rained. maybe you are a bit childish, or maybe you simply indulge together in what you always lacked: an innocent and pure love.

SUNDAY

. his money became yours, quite literally. need to buy a book ? here take his credit card. you want to start having weekly shopping sprees with robin ? he will make a new card just for the two of you that you can use. do not shy away from using his money, he wants you happy and he knows that sometimes only acquiring certain items you cherish will fill your heart to the brim. however, he is waiting for a small peck on the cheek and if you bought close you better make a small show for him. the two of you will end up dancing in the living room and it will end with a small kiss.

. the type to be a sucker for any type of kisses. would randomly come up to you, grab your face and kiss your forehead, your cheeks so no jealousy and then your lips. at first you were taken aback but now you are used to it and no real surprises anymore to be honest. you just melt and sometimes kiss him back when he pulls away. aha ! now he is the one with warm cheeks :P.

. he shares his food a bit too much, his plate becomes yours. not the type to give you his plate though. no, instead he will take your fork or spoon, serve enough in it and bring it to your lips. you can never deny him because of the fluttering of his wings that shows just how happy he is to do such a thing. and let’s not talk about desserts. he would buy five of them, eat one spoonful and then give you the rest. i am not hungry anymore, he says, what a very sweet liar he is. that is not his fault, do not blame him please, he just wishes to see a small smile on your face because you love them so much.

. talking about his wings, you can know his mood with how they react. a pretty useful indicator to be honest. if they are a bit down, he is sad or just tired. a few cuddles might fix the issue and if it doesn’t just massage his feathers, but be careful those little wings are still very much sensitive. if they are fluttering, then he is quite happy. weirdly enough they always flutter when you are with him. sometimes he uses them to hide his face if he is a bit flustered. he looks quite adorable when he wants to.

. also not the type to share his clothes, the only exception being his jacket if you are cold and brought nothing for yourself. unlike aventurine he is not for matching sets of clothing, he would prefer if you two kept your own style. but he is for matching jewelries and such. his favorite match is earrings. he will wear the right one most of the time as you wear the left one. his second favorite has to be necklaces. you have a pair of necklaces that go together like two puzzle pieces, and every time you cuddle you let them click together and they remain as such until you have to go to work or sleep or pee.

. being with him is like walking through a street in the middle of the light. his embrace and touches being the few people complimenting you along the way and his comfort being the warm light cast upon you. and when you fall asleep, it’s like having found your own little haven all over again. perhaps, with you, he will learn to be a bit more honest with himself over time.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

orchids¹ – they symbolize beauty, charm and love.

red roses² – they symbolize love and passion.

carnations³ – they symbolize fascination and love.

sunflowers⁴ – they symbolize admiration and loyalty.

(if any of those informations are wrong, tell me and i will fix it asap !)

TAGGING:: @amxto; @dxmoness; @sweetlyvibe; @quatrdeal

#x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr sunday #hsr sunday x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine fluff #sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday x y/n #renee.writes

[jeneveuxrein]

attention (TWICE Nayeon)

word count: 6.1K

(she's been on my radar since the killing voice medley, and well, yeah, enjoy!)

-- -- -- 

You’re seething, forcing the amber liquid down, watching the people mingle. You should introduce yourself to some because networking at events like this always gives you the chance to meet the next up and coming. 

But not tonight. 

You don’t even want to be here. You weren’t on the original guest list, but with last minute changes and someone’s wife suddenly going into labor, your boss forced you to attend. 

Maybe the proper term is chaperone. 

All you wanted to do tonight was spend some time with this woman you’ve been casually seeing. Nothing serious, nothing committal, just dinner and drinks that had the potential of ending together in a bed. You had been dragging it out, and you think it’s warranted. She makes it obvious she’s interested.

But with how this evening was looking, you’ll be spending the night with someone else. 

That someone is across the room, draped over some man you’re more than likely going to have to do damage control. She’s an idol after all, and rumors will spread like a wildfire about her being linked to someone who’s nowhere near her caliber. 

She catches you staring, sending a sly smirk as she leans into whatever-his-face is saying. A little too close for the company’s taste and a shit ton too much for your sake.

“Dear fuck,” You mumble, shaking your head before standing. 

You don’t know what compels you to walk through the crowd, nodding politely at those that wave, but there you are, less than a meter away from where she’s seated. 

“Nayeon,” You say coolly. The man quickly separates himself, going as far away from the woman in question. “Time to go. You have an early day tomorrow.”

Nayeon tilts her head, a questioning glint in her eye because she, out of all of the members, knows her schedule. She has nothing for tomorrow, except maybe rest and recovery because this is her fault you’re here. 

Well, maybe you should backtrack. It’s technically your fault because if you hadn’t mentioned to Sana and Momo the plans you originally had, you wouldn’t be at some event against your will. It was an innocent question on how you were going to spend the weekend, the only mistake was that you said too much that they went running to their unnie. 

“Okay,” Nayeon says slowly, standing before bidding farewell to the people at the table. You wait for her, obviously, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. “Shall we?” She asks as she turns to face you. 

You nod, stepping side before bowing politely. You’ll have to send a message to the media team to stop any photos releasing of Nayeon and the man, but that could wait. There were more pressing matters that needed your attention. 

It isn’t until you’re inside your car that she says something that ticks you off, “So no date with Suji-unnie tonight?”

You shake your head, composing yourself because it’s a question she knows the answer to. “Nope, duty calls. Had to be here.”

“How unfortunate,” Nayeon says casually as if she had no part in how your night turned out, slouching in the passenger seat as you shift the car into drive. “Yours or mine? ” She asks, looking out the window. Adding, “Momo’s in Japan.”

“Mine,” You answer simply, turning onto the street. 

-- -- 

You should’ve seen it coming, but you let it happen. 

The company and management would have you barred from working with anyone in the industry if they ever found out. You reasoned that was why by the time things unfolded, it was out of your control. 

How it started was subtle, nothing too out of the ordinary to draw attention to her mostly. She flirted with you, commenting on your outfits about how it looked good on you and you, being you, would return the sentiment. It wasn’t anything explicit, just a polite acknowledgement of her looking great, something she heard daily from the girls and other people on the team. 

She lingered to walk with you whether it was crowded or not, it didn’t matter. She was right by your side, and the times where fans were around, she’d be especially close that you had no other choice to wrap your arm around her, shielding her from people who desperately wanted her attention. You missed the snickers from the girls, rolling their eyes because they knew what she was up to, while you were just doing your job. 

Then she texted you on free days, asking if you wanted to do something. Anything from getting food at hole-in-the-wall restaurants she learned about from Chaeyoung to intimate concerts of artists in the industry. You tried to decline, advising her to go with one of the female managers so it wouldn’t look suspicious to the public eye, but she was adamant about going with you. Some of the girls would join from time to time, but the majority of the time, it was just you two.

Again, you thought nothing of it. You were the closest to her, so no one batted an eye when she put in the group chat when something was planned. 

That was just how your relationship was with her for five years since the group debuted. 

Until one night.

You were working late, going over the travel plans for the girls’ encore tour, tucked away in your office. A short four-city stint in the United States that would be a bit of a hustle for them, but you knew they could do it. 

There were a soft two knocks, scaring you because you thought everyone had already left. You remembered the way you said come in, raspy and tired, when the door opened slightly, the half of Nayeon’s face peeking through the crevice. 

You smiled immediately, sitting straight, nodding as she stepped inside. You took note of her outfit. Something comfortable since they had dance rehearsals for the better part of the day, dark sweats and a heather grey cropped hoodie that showed a sliver of her skin, peeking from underneath. 

You watched Nayeon grow into a beautiful woman. Sexy too, but you slapped yourself every single time you thought of her like that. There had to be some professional line drawn somewhere. Although it seemed that metaphorical line had been blurred, crossed, over the past few months. 

She was more affectionate, playing with your fingers in the car, gently touching your arm wherever you walked. She pressed into your side more, even when there were no people around. She hugged you a bit longer than the others, not like you were counting the seconds. 

You stood to meet her on the couch, asking if she was alright since she was vocal earlier in the day she wanted to go home to sleep. She explained that she had finished practicing with the dance instructor. You admired how hard she worked, which for what it was worth, you thought she did well during rehearsals. 

“And I saw your office light on as I was leaving, thought I’d say goodbye,” Nayeon rested her head on your outstretched arm. It wasn’t out of the norm, something she did quite frequently in front of everyone. 

“You should rest,” You urged, softly squeezing her shoulder as she snuggled into you. “You did great today.”

Nayeon looked up at you, gaze briefly shifting to your lips before meeting your eyes, “Really?” 

You hadn’t realized it before, but as she stared at you, you could see how much she needed the affirmation, the reassurance, the praise, from you. 

You cleared your throat, looking away because it suddenly felt hot in your office. With Nayeon this close, her perfume faint, it had you dizzy. You mumbled a shy yeah. 

You knew the moment her hand touched your thigh, it was over. Everything you worked for, investing time and resources to make sure the girls you managed were successful, would be tossed down the drain because the undeniable tension that had been building over the past however long at this point broke.

The thing was, you didn’t know about it until that moment. 

You weren’t sure who kissed who first, and it didn’t matter. All you knew was she was on top, your arms pulling her closer as your lips met in a heated kiss, swallowing each other’s moans. 

Something clicked inside of you, like this was always supposed to happen. Every message, every call, every playful push, every stolen glance, every single thing led to this. 

“Nayeon,” You tore yourself apart, hyper aware of the small whine leaving her mouth as you tried to get some grip on the situation. “What’re we doing? We can’t do this.” 

Her eyes narrowed, glaring, and you knew that whatever resolve you had would be taken from you by her whether you liked it or not. She was never one to be challenged, always exceeding whatever expectation was placed on her. 

“And why not?” Her voice was steady, but her body was not. She dropped to her knees in between your legs. All the thoughts you pushed deep down inside you came rushing to the surface, dismantling the walls you put up for her to break it so easily. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” Her hands were on the waistband of your slacks, trailing along, stopping when she reached the button. 

You didn’t have the words, no sentence to form as she slowly, oh so slowly, pulled the zipper down. You nearly choked once she placed her hand over your cock, palming with the softest pressure. 

“Your body seems to think so,” She teased, slipping her hand underneath the fabric, wrapping around your cock. 

That very thin thread of control you snapped, leaning forward to pull back onto your lap. “That’s a lot to assume,” You quipped, hands gripping her waist firmly. 

“Really?” She rolled her hips over you, catching the smirk on her face as your eyes closed. “I think that you’ve always wanted me as much as I wanted you, which I—”

Impulsively, you brought your lips to hers, a searing kiss that she met with the same enthusiasm. You murmured a shut up before nipping her bottom lip, sucking lightly that her body shuddered against you. 

You didn’t remember much else from that night. 

That was a lie because that was the night she confessed it all. It didn’t help that she somehow slipped all her clothes off and she sunk your cock inside one smooth motion, testing your control once again because you could’ve exploded the moment you felt her warmth wrapped around you.

You remembered it vividly, clearly, as you watched her move on top of you. It was slow, intentional with every drop of her body, like she was showing you what you had been missing. It was hot, tight, and you couldn’t stop the whimper out of your mouth when she started whispering things—nasty, filthy things that you would have never guessed were in her vocabulary. 

Nayeon bit your ear lobe, murmuring how good you felt, how she got so wet whenever she saw you. The soft moan she let out. The dazed, lust-filled expression with each roll of her hips. You couldn’t stop the noises you made, the groans, the grunts, the fuck every time her pussy tightened. 

There was a brief sense of clarity when your stomach tightened, signaling you were close. You couldn’t exactly cum inside her because one, you stupidly (blindly) forgot to put a condom on, and two, you didn’t keep track of her health records (that wasn’t one of your responsibilities among everything else), so getting an idol pregnant wasn’t exactly on your list. 

She knew you were close the second your hips thrusted up, stealing a breathy moan. You were content lifting her off you to cum anywhere else that wasn’t inside her.

However, Nayeon was not. 

She made it perfectly clear when she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you against her as she quickened her pace. You tried, maybe not that much, to get her off you before you met your impending end, but it was futile when she kissed your cheek, affectionately, lovingly, hot breath against your skin that she wanted you to claim her in a way no one else ever had. 

Air left your lungs as you came, releasing a lot inside of her, causing her own orgasm that felt like yours went on forever. She muffled her scream, biting into your neck as her body trembled. 

You wanted to believe it was a one-time thing, a mishap, a lapse in judgment because it was still your fucking job on the line. 

It was not a one-time thing. You couldn’t even count it as a two-time thing, or three, or four. It just kept happening. You couldn’t exactly avoid her, you literally worked for her. 

No one would think you favored her because they all knew you did, but they understood why. No one could stop Nayeon from being near you because she would throw a fit. Any crisis she had, you were the main point of contact because she only listened to you. 

Even if you had some kind of control over her, she had the most control over you. 

Then after some time of figuring out how you and Nayeon could keep whatever this under wraps—nothing was ‘figured out’ as you wouldn’t really be talking if you were alone together—a mutual colleague introduced you to Bae Suji.

-- 

You went on one date with Suji, or Suzy, as she sometimes preferred. How any of the girls found out was beyond you, but if you had to wager, it would’ve been Jeongyeon or Sana (Nayeon later did say it was the latter because her friend saw you).

It didn’t matter who found out because managers are allowed to have lives outside of their work, but this particular part of your life wouldn’t be allowed by the woman you spent a good chunk of time with, on- and off-the-clock. 

To say Nayeon was upset would be an understatement. Sure, she was upset, but she was livid. You didn’t see her that night, but she was at your door the next morning. She did what she always did, easily seducing you before demanding an explanation while you were deep inside her. 

It wasn’t healthy by any means, but it’s not like either of you cared. It was toxic at best, but it was debauchery at its absolute worst, using sex as a loaded gun to get whatever you wanted from each other. 

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You grunted as you thrusted inside her, pausing as her pussy tightened. 

“Yet here you fucking are, still balls deep inside of me,” Nayeon said lowly, tugging you so you towered over her. “You aren’t fucking her so why did you even go out with her?”

You didn’t bother responding, instead you wrapped a firm hand around her neck, squeezing enough to shut her up because at that point, she was pissing you off. 

You would admit that that morning was the first time you let her get the best of you. You typically weren’t aggressive with her. You might’ve been rough less than a handful of times, but never like that.

What you couldn’t predict was how she’d react. She could have done anything. Hit you. Slap you. Push you off. 

She didn’t. 

It spurred her on more than anything. By the way her pussy tightened. By the way it felt wetter. By the way she tried to make a sound, but couldn’t because of the hold around her.

Your hand relaxed, listening to her violently gasp as the air entered her body. You broke for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort, uneasiness, because at the end of the day—you wouldn’t admit this to her—you loved her. You were in love with her, stupidly falling for her whether you wanted to or not. You believed she felt the same, but those kinds of things weren’t a topic of discussion. 

“Baby,” You whispered, still buried inside of her, but you weren’t moving. “I’m sor—”

Nayeon shook her head, sitting up as you hissed once the cool air hit your cock. She gave you a quick peck before turning onto her stomach, arching her back. Pushing herself up on her hands, she shook her hips side to side, head slightly turned, “Fuck me, daddy.”

A new kink was unlocked that night among a myriad of emotions you weren’t prepared for. One thing you were prepared for was to fuck her like you owned her. 

Maybe you did, but she owned you too. 

-- -- 

You open your front door, stepping aside for Nayeon to walk through. Tossing the keys on the side table, the door shuts as you take off your shoes. She’s right next to you, arms crossed behind her back, leaning against the wall. She’s waiting for the reaction you give whenever she pisses you off. She does what she does to rile you up, if that isn’t obvious. 

You sigh, shaking your head, standing in front of Nayeon. Her eyes look up, but your gentle hand cups her chin, tilting her head back. When you meet her gaze, there’s something off with her. 

You can read her like a book, very familiar with her moods. Though, this time, you see—and feel—the walls up, something unfamiliar to you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, searching her face for anything to give her away. Her expression remains neutral, shrugging indifferently. “Something’s wrong.” 

Nayeon pulls away, averting her gaze, “Nothing’s wrong.” Pause. “So are we going to fuck or what? Isn’t that why we’re here?” 

“Not with that attitude,” You say sternly, reaching for her arms behind her back. You bring them around, struggling a bit. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

“There is no fucking problem. If you want to talk about thoughts and feelings, I’m going to pass,” She breaks away, and you let her. “I’ll call Jihyo or Jeongyeon to pick me up.” She turns to walk away, but you reach out quickly, hand wrapping onto her forearm to pull her back. 

Nayeon lets out a small oomph against your chest, glaring at you, unbothered by her attitude (you’ve dealt with worse), “Tell me what the fuck is wrong right now.”

“Or what?” Nayeon huffs, hands on your chest in a feeble attempt to get away from you. 

The movement brings your bodies closer, and accidentally, maybe purposely, she grounds her pelvis against you. It’s with the lightest pressure, but it’s enough for your cock to stir, awakening from her heated stare. You notice the way her breath hitches, body shivering as you pull her closer. 

“Brat,” You murmur, dropping your head to capture her lips with your teeth. She moans softly when you start sucking. Her hands move to interlace behind your neck. You didn’t want to use sex to get it out of her, but she’s being defiant. “Do you get off on making me mad?” 

“Not intentionally, of course.” You feel her smile form, the upward curve of her lips as you slide your tongue in. She sighs dreamily into the kiss, dropping her weight to lean against the wall. You fall into her, practically pinning her. “Is someone going to put me in my place?” 

It’s a rhetorical question because there has only been one person to put her in her place. 

You. 

This evening could have played out in two ways. The first, being the doting lover you’re familiar with, praising her softly like a secret only between you and her, taking your time to draw out every moan and sigh against your lips. The second, the one you’re leaning towards, being the indifferent, apathetic lover, uncaring of if she cums, fucking her until she begs for you, pussy deliciously tight to force you to breed her, claim her, because she’s yours. 

“Why not that tool you were all over at the party?” The question catches her off guard, body tensing at the thought that you caught her. She wanted you to catch her though, she has always wanted to be wanted by you. “You knew I was watching across the room,” Pulling away as you tower over her.

“It wasn’t like that,” Nayeon rushes out, the excuse you’ve heard multiple times before. The false panic in her eyes means she knew exactly what she was doing to get a reaction out of you. “We were just talking.” 

“I don’t believe that,” You click your tongue, the image of her with someone else like that sparks a possessive desire. “That wasn’t very good of you, baby.” Void of any affection associated with the pet name. Under the dim light of your hallway, you see her eyes dilate and her breathing picks up. She wants you and fuck do you want her too. “Room. Now.” 

Nayeon nods obediently. You reward her with a soft, chaste kiss. She tries her best to keep your lips together, but you tap her hip twice and she pulls away. “Daddy.” She whines, pouting in hopes it’ll get her more than you’re giving. You thought she’d last longer before using her nickname for you. 

“Don’t be a brat,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her because if she wants to act out even more, you’d just have to punish her. “Go to the room now.” Nayeon’s eyes widen at your tone, nodding once before walking down the hallway. 

You tilt your head side-to-side, stretching the muscles before making a quick stop in the kitchen. You know you’ll both be exhausted whenever you finish, so you might as well at least have water nearby. You’ll find the energy to make her food in the morning, or there’s always takeaway. With two water bottles in hand, you kick your room door open to Nayeon perched on the edge of your bed, topless, only leaving her red lace bottoms, dress tossed haphazardly on the chair. 

“For later, okay?” Momentarily breaking out of character because you still care for her, and her well-being will always be your top priority. She sends you a grateful smile before you place the bottles on the dresser. When you meet her on the bed, she moves to swing her leg over yours, but you shake your head. “Not yet, baby. You weren’t very good back there.” 

“But, but,” Nayeon’s voice trembles, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean it!” 

“Then why did you act out? Do I not give you what you want?” You gently push Nayeon off to her original position. 

“You do!” She says desperately, nodding her head. 

“Then why? Why him?” You taunt, deciding how far you want to go with her tonight. Something’s still wrong, and you need to know what. You want the reason, the confession, because she doesn’t keep secrets from you. You see the wheels turning, unsure if whatever she has to say would matter. It does matter to you. “So what is it?” 

“Because I wanted your attention,” Nayeon confesses before she jumps on you, landing perfectly on your already hard cock. She moans at the contact, grinding slightly before your hands find themselves on her hips, guiding her movement. “I wanted you to remind me who I belong to.” 

“And who’s that?” You say lazily, tongue trailing against her lower lip before dipping inside, swirling that she grounds harder. 

“You,” Voice dropping low, seductively adding, “Daddy.” 

You have to still make her pay her retribution. She’s almost there, telling you the real reason, and you’ll get it out of her. You easily lift her body off yours, smirking at the whine and huff when you pull away as you lay her on your stomach against your lap. “I still have to punish you, baby.” You rest your hand on her back, ghosting over her skin until you reach her low back. 

“But daddy,” Nayeon huffs, raising her hips in a feeble attempt to get your hand where she wants. “It didn’t mean anything,” She repeats, squirming on your lap. 

Your hand goes lower, hovering over her buttcheek, “It meant something to me,” You say pensively. Curious, prodding, “Is that why you wanted me to fill in instead of Seoyeon-unnie? You didn’t want me to go on my date.”

You don’t hear a response. You swiftly bring your hand down to her bottom, a resounding smack echoes through the room. “Well?” 

Silence again, which would result in another slap to the other cheek. She muffled a moan into the bedsheets, refusing to budge. 

Bingo. 

Her pride is her biggest downfall, ego constantly needing to be stroked. She loves the attention and adoration from fans, thriving off the praise, knowing that it’s all for her. She would rather suffer through the pain than have to admit she was jealous. 

The center of attention, the one in the limelight, spotlight shining on her and only her. She craves that from you, to be the center of your world, but ever since Suji came into the picture, she’s scared that there might be someone else, crashing like a meteor on unstable ground she’s never had. 

You continue with the slaps, easing the sting with light rubs. You know she’s soaked, the small dark circle forming on her underwear. You’re not faring any better, cock tenting against the fabric. 

After the seventh hit, Nayeon moans, body shaking wantonly in frustration. “Fuck fuck, please, please.”

“Tell me the truth.” Coercion isn’t the best method, manipulative by any definition, but you had no other choice. 

“Fine, fine.” You relent, hand halting mid-air. “I didn’t want you to go. You’re supposed to be mine,” She cries, breath uneven as she tries to compose herself. 

Your hand drops. Her body flinches when she feels it against her skin, but continues to wait, anticipating your next move. Your chest squeezes at the confession because she’s never been this vulnerable, open, willing to express her feelings for you.

You give in, to her, to this, the urge to suddenly show her who owns you becomes too great. You pull her up, laying her on the bed as you fall in between her legs. 

“Baby,” You murmur, leaning forward to brush your lips against her ear, “You’re being so good. I am yours,” Her body shivers, hips rolling up into nothing as she seeks some kind of friction. “I’m yours,” You repeat like a mantra, a reminder of what you’ve always said. “You deserve a reward, okay?” 

Nayeon shakes her head, eyes shooting open, wild with want and desire. “I can’t wait, daddy.” She reaches for your shirt, ripping the buttons, before stopping at your belt. “Inside me, please. I need to feel you.” 

You do nothing to stop her, hands swiftly moving to unbuckle your belt and slipping your cock out of your briefs. You groan when she wraps around your length, stroking lightly. She aims the tip at her opening, against the lace, uncontrollably moaning and panting. 

“Go ahead,” You goad, eyes fixated on your cock rubbing over her. The wetness seeps on you, mouth watering at the sight. You watch as she moves her underwear to the side, lining up your cock perfectly, the warmth and wetness surrounding you has you seeing stars. 

“I’m so wet, daddy,” Nayeon moans loudly, scooting closer to take more of you in. “All for you—fuck.” 

You couldn’t help yourself. She felt too good, too wet, and the tightness suffocates you the second you snap your hips forward, burying your cock to the hilt inside her. The sudden stretch has her head snapping back, screaming into the air. 

“You’re such a slut, always ready for my cock,” You choke out, hands settling on her hips before drawing backwards. Her body squirms, chasing after the sensation of being filled. “So needy tonight, baby.”

“Please, please,” Nayeon begs, doing everything she can to get all of you back inside her. She wants you, wants you so no one else can have you, desperate for the feeling you give her. She thrusts her hips down, sucking you in unexpectedly, that you nearly collapse on top of her. Her arms wrap around you, nails digging into your skin when your length rubs along her walls. “Fuck me. You own me.”

“Mine?” You’re able to catch a breath, holding on to the control you’re trying to keep. 

“Yours.” 

It snaps, breaking the moment she says the word, possessing you to pull back before sliding back in. You lose yourself inside her, each moan and breathy sigh, as you set a steady pace. It’s a beautiful sensation for Nayeon’s pussy hugging your cock perfectly, warm, wet, tight—just for you. 

Her nails trail down, scratching your back enough that you’ll see the damage later. The pain turns you on, snapping your hips, driving your cock through. You nearly falter when your eyes meet hers. It’s akin to love, a word that has been dangerously sitting on the tip of your tongue these past few months. 

“I—fuck,” You stutter out. You can’t tell her how you feel. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t. 

“I love you.” 

You swear you misheard her. The three words forming the sentence that has you over the moon. She says it again, softly, affectionately, because she means it. 

“You love me?” You cease your movements, cock bottoming out inside of her. The snugness of her pussy warms your cock as you wait. She doesn’t hesitate, saying it again and again before pulling your lips to hers. 

“I love you,” Nayeon mumbles, tongue running along your bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” You pull away, hips drawing back before flipping her body over. She raises her hips, the beautiful arch in her back. You tear the lacy garment off, making a silent promise you’ll buy her another later. You’ll buy her whatever she wants. “I love you,” You whisper before sinking in, missing the way her eyes roll back. 

You couldn’t control what happened next as the words triggered her orgasm. Her pussy pulls you in, suffocating you so you wouldn’t leave—not like you had anywhere to go. You’d lose yourself inside her ten times out of ten. 

“Fuck daddy, I’m cumming,” Nayeon screams, panting as her body shudders, pussy tightening and relaxing rhythmically as you groan. You feel the wetness coat your upper thighs, guttural moaning against her hair. “Come inside me, please. I’m yours, yours, oh shit—”

Your stomach tightens, snapping at the way her ass cheeks ripple against your pelvis, moving uncontrollably as she coaxes your orgasm. Your hands grip her muscles, hips erratically thrusting into her as your release floods her, painting every crevice inside her. 

Nayeon leans her head back, enough for you to kiss her forehead. Her hands find yours, interlacing them sweetly as you both try to catch your breath. 

You’re still hard, and you’re feeling particularly giving. She can handle whatever you throw at you, so you gently remove one of your hands from hers, trailing slowly to the apex of her thighs. Her breathing hitches, “What’re you doing?” 

“Another,” You command as you rub through her folds, finding her clit. 

“Wait—wait shit,” The contact catches her by surprise, her body folding forward as you continue your onslaught. 

“Good girl,” You murmur, watching as her hips move in slow figure eights with your cock still inside. Her pussy constricts, finding every angle to hit her favorite spot. And when she does, she mewls and pants. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

Nayeon turns her head, locking eyes with you as she moves faster along your length. Your fingers aren’t idle, applying heavy pressure that has her going crazy, unsure with what to do with the pleasure flowing through her body. You mouth cum and flicking like a switch, she gushes all over you, forcing you to leave her warmth. 

“Fuck daddy,” Nayeon screams, voice hoarse as you watch her body convulse, back arching and flexing as she squirts more fluid than you’d ever seen. “I need you, please. Something, anything—oh shit!” Your fingers enter her swiftly, massaging her inner muscles as it just gets wetter, drenching your skin and bedsheets. 

“Tell me who owns this pussy,” You say lowly, eyes fixated on the way her butt muscles ripple with every movement of your fingers. 

“You,” She repeats your name over and over, pussy sucking you as she tightens deliciously around them. “God, fuck, you, sir, only you.” 

You replace your fingers with your cock, aiming at her opening before sinking in once again. Her fingers ball into fists, wrinkling the bed sheets as you nearly go feral on her body. She could take it. She wants you like this, crazy, addicted, in love that no one else could fuck her. She needs to feel how much you want her. She only needs you.

“So easy,” You swing a hand back, slapping each cheek with precision. “All you need is my cock, right?” 

“Yes, yes, only yours daddy,” Nayeon nods, easily agreeing to whatever you say. You could call her every name in the book, and she’d comply. She’s your little fucktoy that gets your cock stuffed inside her whenever you want.

You lose it once Nayeon lets out a high-pitched squeal. The orgasm crashes through your body, hips stuttering forcefully into hers as you fill her again, unabashedly rolling your hips to hear her breath staccato. 

Every nerve on your body buzzes, stimulated by Nayeon’s walls pulsing to milk you for all that you have. It hits overstimulation, sucking the breath from you as you regretfully pull out. She whines at the loss of contact, but you lean forward, sweetly kissing her buttcheek, nipping at the skin that she squirms. 

“Ticklish?” You tease, voice light and relaxed. The exhaustion slowly sets in your bones. 

“You know I am,” Nayeon huffs, hips dropping, limbs spread limply. 

You’re still a sick human, and you want to see the result of your activities. You nudge Nayeon’s leg, easily responsive as they spread a little. You bite your tongue at the sight of your essence dribbling out of her swollen lips. It’s hot, filthy to see you all over her. You wish you had a phone nearby to snapshot this into memory, but your mind drifts off to recreating it at a later date.

You yawn, collapsing next to her that she scoots to snuggle into your side. You fight to keep your eyes open because you still have to clean up. Nayeon mumbles something into your skin. You don’t quite catch what she says, softly asking her to repeat it, and you freeze. 

“I love you.”

It’s a finicky thing, this thing between you and Nayeon. Somewhere along the way, you fell for her. Maybe you knew the moment you met her, or maybe you knew that you would at some point in time. Or maybe you knew the night she walked into your office because by then, it had built up between you that that was the final piece of the puzzle to confirm what you’ve known. 

The hormones flow between you, and you can’t help but think that’s the only reason why. You’re an idiot too, “Are you just saying that?” Nayeon’s hand presses into your chest. You open your eyes to her peering over you, hair an unruly mess, “What?”

Nose scrunching, Nayeon rolls her eyes, “You seriously believe I’d throw that around so easily?”

You don’t, but this was Nayeon. You may have been sleeping with her for a while, but you’ve heard the girls talk about their flings. You could almost guarantee that she’s only been sleeping with you, but they know how to hide things. 

“Stupid,” Nayeon shakes her head when you ask again. “Did you just say it?”

You did. You do. It’s not just the hormones causing you to act like such a love struck idiot. You weigh the situation, knowing that whatever answer you give will change your relationship. It won’t be an illicit affair between an idol and her manager. It’ll be hard because you’d still have to keep it a secret, unless you changed companies, something you’d be willing to do. 

“No,” You send an easy smile, “I love you. I’m in love with you.” 

Nayeon’s face lights up, beaming with all her teeth showing, eyes crinkling in the corners. She kisses you, softly, tenderly, a contrast to how you were no less than five minutes ago. 

“I love you,” Nayeon says quietly, an unspoken vow passed between you. She understands what this means, being together for real, that there will be hardships, but she’ll do them with you. 

You sigh contentedly against her lips, whispering those same three words, full of intent and promise. 

“No more dates with Suji-unnie,” Nayeon sing-songs, confident after pecking you on the lips, smug at accomplishing her mission of making you hers. 

-- -- -- 

(pardon any mistakes or typos, lol)

#twice smut #twice nayeon #twice im nayeon #nayeon smut #im nayeon smut #im nayeon

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l ten

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #tw dv #tw domestic violence #tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction

[januaryembrs]

WAS I FOOLIN MYSELF | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [5]

Description: The THREE times you can't have him no matter how much you want to

Length. 15.2k

warnings: angst, spencer's addiction mentioned, gory cm cases (medical trauma, removing limbs, human marionettes etc) explosion, broken arm and surgery, slight lemon at end but not actually written just described aftermath, Maeve arc (I'm so sorry), guns, almost dying, blood, general cm warnings, anything else let me know!

previous chpt | next chpt

Authors note; I will edit in the morning I just really wanted you all to have the next chapter as promised!!

'I'ma strike these matches, never had control,

I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?'

The one with the wedding

JJ’s ears were ringing, a high pitched whine like a radio skipping between stations searching for a signal, and she felt the hard concrete against her milky skin before the throbbing in her forehead hit. 

“JJ, are you alright?” There were hands at her shoulders, patting her down for fractures, not wanting to move her if her spine had been hit, and it wasn’t until she rolled herself over, eyes frantic and in shock that she saw Morgan.

“Where’s Will? Where’s Bugsy?” She asked, the words blurring into one word. Her legs were struggling to a stand before she could think too much about the concussion she almost definitely had, giving Morgan a quick once over, “Did they get out of there?” 

But she hadn’t seen any movement before the blast had shot them back ten feet to the floor. Had only seen the back of the youngest Prentiss woman’s head as she rushed into the building to get emergency medical care to her partner. 

“Where’s Emily?” Morgan added, and the two of them realised they were missing perhaps three of the most important people to them with no sign of life from any of them. 

It didn’t take much for JJ to take off bolting into where the bank’s entrance had crumbled to the floor, where the dust hadn’t even settled and they didn’t know whether there was a second set of bombs waiting for them. They didn’t know anything. 

And it was for that reason JJ dipped straight into the wall of smoke, hand tight on her gun as she went to look for survivors.

Morgan and Hotch were hot on her heels, a dozen firefighters and medical in tow, a similar face of dread in their expressions. 

Aaron’s heart was in his throat when they entered the building, the west facing wall almost entirely in smithereens on the floor. The dust choked him the second they ran in, and he coughed before he could even get a word out, hand flying over his mouth to try give himself some kind of filter to the air. 

“Bugsy!” He yelled as loud as his dry vocal chords would allow, “Bugsy, give us a signal,” 

Nothing. Nothing but the sound of JJ and Morgan screaming for Will and Emily just as loud. And even to that they received no answer. 

It wasn’t until they got close enough to the rubble and began seeing the bodies did Aaron start to fear the worst. He called her name again, her real name, splitting up from the rest of his team because it was no longer a mission for the UnSubs, it was now a search and rescue. 

He crouched to press his fingers against a woman’s throat, stomach flipping when he felt no pulse beneath them, before he moved onto another one, his eyes darting between the chunks of brick and ceiling to see if he could spot anything that looked like an FBI jacket. 

It wasn’t until he found one of the men donned in a SWAT uniform, his gun long since dropped to the tiles that he knew he must be close. It was one of the guys who had gone into the buildings seconds before her.

He felt for a familiar thrum of a heartbeat, his breath thick in his throat when he managed to get a slow and steady thump, and he immediately began signalling for medical attention.

Paramedics came running over with a stretcher between them, but Aaron wasn’t finished, Not until he saw her. 

He dodged around the large chunk of stone that piled in the centre of the room, cringing when he saw a splatter of blood on the tiles in front of him, and it was only when he saw a hand splayed out on the floor did his heart truly stop. 

His cold eyes were wet with fear as he traced the hand up its arm, the familiar blue he wore himself ripped to shreds, the skin beneath it broken and the bone snapped clean in two. He could barely make out the three letters, F. B. I. that were so covered in blood and dirt it almost matched the navy, before he got the pillow of familiar hair matted against a head that faced away from him. 

But it was her. There was no doubt about it. 

He thinks he said her name, but it might just have been a sob, because he fell to his knees quickly, scrambling to get to her face to see if she would respond to him at all. 

“Bugsy, I need you to wake up,” He ordered, though it sounded like a hiss of pain, his rough hands finding her young face, desperate for any movement behind her eyelids, “Come on, sweetheart, just tell me what day it is,”

Years of training on what to do in a crisis and the correct first aid to give to someone unresponsive flew out of his brain, leaving behind bits and pieces like getting her to talk to see whether she had severed anything in that big, amazing brain of hers that had so much promise. 

He leaned his ear down next to her nose, looking down the front of her chest to check for any signs of breath.

This was too similar to what Foyet had done with Haley, like a horrid deja-vu he wouldn’t wish even on their worst UnSub. He had been too slow, too stubborn, too stupid to stop her from getting hurt. He didn’t know what her blood on his hands would feel like, didn’t know if he would ever sleep again knowing he had gotten her killed. 

Aaron’s stomach flipped when he saw her ribs rising slowly beneath her vest, her breaths cold against his earlobe. 

“Guess it’s my turn to come back from the dead, huh?” A croaking whisper came softly, and he flicked his head around so fast he thought he might have whiplash. 

But her eyes were open, squinting and tired, and he cursed the fact he had only then noticed the cut on her forehead, red ichor pumping fast and restlessly down the side of her face. 

He gave a breathless laugh, though it pained his own ringing ear to do so, stroking gently down her face with the same care he would put Jack to bed with. 

“Gotcha,” She smiled up at him sheepishly, her brows furrowing when she seemed then to notice the tears rolling down the tip of his nose, “Aaron Hotchner crying over me, are pigs flying today?” 

He chuckled wetly, and his eyes were the warmest brown she’d ever seen them when he looked down at her. He turned his attention away for a second to call over medical, his eyes landing on Emily who was also frantically scanning the wreckage for her sister and giving her a sign too. 

“You gave us quite a scare there,” Aaron said softly, because judging by the bump on her head, and the way blood was pooling in her ears, he guessed her eardrums had been damaged in the blast. Emily was over to them in seconds, looking dishevelled herself, and she gasped into her hands when she saw her sister’s fragile form. 

“Bugsy- oh my god your arm,” 

The girl’s face dropped, eyes widening as she tried turning to see the damage but Aaron was faster, quickly blocking her view of the mangled mess of skin with hand over the side of her head. 

“What’s wrong with my arm?” She asked, and he saw nothing but his son with a scraped knee in her eyes when she looked up at him vulnerably. Emily fell to her knees next to her, taking over from Aaron by stroking her sister’s cheek, because if her adrenaline rose too much, then the numbness of the shock would wear off and she would feel it all. 

“I think it’s broken, but the paramedics are going to fix you right up, I promise,” Emily cooed, though she felt herself go a little white at the sight of her sister’s bones so mangled and in pieces. 

Aaron looked up when he heard Morgan calling his name, spotting the paramedic team navigating their way back to where the three of them sat, and he waved his hand up to let them know where they were. 

He bit his tongue, looking down at where Bugsy was clearly starting to wake up more to just how bad of a state she was in, and she watched him woefully be torn between helping the rest of his team or staying with her. 

“You guys can go, I’m no use on the case anymore,” She said, despite the fact she was terrified of what might happen if they left her alone. 

“Are you crazy, absolutely not-,” Emily was cut off when two EMT’s rounded the block of concrete and brick that had missed her by a few inches when it had fallen, a stretcher and med packs at their side. 

“Good to see you’re responsive, Agent Prentiss,” One of the EMT’s commented, opening his case up to retrieve a neck brace and a splint for her arm before they could move her to the stretcher. Bugsy smiled up at them, though she knew it looked like a wince, taking one more look at her sister and then at Hotch, both of whom looked stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

“Go, I’m serious. Will needs you,” She said, feeling Emily squeeze her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her hairline, looking down at her in worry, “Go, Emily. Just bring me pudding when you get to the hospital- no Jello-”

She hissed when the paramedics slipped the brace over her shoulders, strapping her head into place to stop her doing any more damage to her spine. 

Emily nodded, and her and Hotch took off round the corner to where Morgan was calling them, and Bugsy let the paramedics fuss over her some more, taking the pain killers without a second glance once she realised just how broken Emily had meant when she saw her arm. 

It got hazy from there, until she felt the sun on her face and she felt a hand grab her good side. Her eyes were rolling with the fact she was fighting off sleep, or maybe she really had lost more blood than she thought. Either way she managed to flick her eyes open enough to meet hazel hues, distraught and worried, heard a familiar voice calling her name sadly, but she was too far gone by then. Her eyes shut despite her fighting them, and she was wheeled into the back of an ambulance by the friendly EMT’s, and the doors shut before her medicated brain could even recognise the voice as Spencer. 

She was asleep before she could protest to it. 

–

The air smelled like bleach- no, like floor cleaner had been drenched all around her, like she had been dropped into a janitor's closet and spilled every bottle over on her way in. 

Her body felt stiff, and she frowned when she felt cramp in her fingertips, pain shooting up her wrist the second she tried to move them. Her eyes opened blearily, and she groaned in protest at the overhead white lights, burying her face into the scratchy sheet that covered her body. Only then did it click that she was in a hospital.

She moaned again when she tried moving her legs and her whole body protested, her bare legs rubbing against the paper like material in a way that made her cringe, and she felt only the hospital gown and underwear on her body.

“You’re awake,” The voice startled her, and she realised she hadn’t even heard the door open in her haze. Spencer stood in the doorway, three big bunches of flowers and two teddies in his arms, one of them holding a sign saying ‘You’re bear-y brave!’

What got her was the look of worry in his eyes when he took her in head to toe, his eyes lingering on the bright pink cast on her lower arm up past her elbow. 

She grimaced, following his eyes to the horror, “Sexy,”

He rushed over to her bedside, all but throwing the flowers and cuddly toys on the space where her legs weren’t curled up under the sheets, pausing for a second to assess the situation. 

“Spencer, you didn’t need to get me all of this,” Bugsy said, her cheeks warming when she saw her favourite flowers right at the end of the bed, blooming right in her direction, “Is everyone okay? Is Will okay?” 

He nodded, but had yet to say anything, and he fiddled with his fingertips the way he did when he was struggling to get his point across properly. She reached out with her functioning hand to take them in hers, because she hated when he wouldn’t talk to her. 

“Spencer, I’m fine, it’s just a broken arm, right?” The woman asked, trying to shuffle herself into a sitting position only to yelp when her side burst into pain. He rushed to put his arm behind her back, to get her to lay back down without putting too much pressure on her sternum, “What the fuck is that? I feel like I got hit by a baseball bat,” 

“That’s what happens when you run blindly into a building without waiting for backup,” Spencer said, an undertone to his words she had never heard from him before, “Two cracked ribs; you’re lucky your lungs are still intact,”

Shit. 

“Anything else?” She asked, a grim look on her face as his expression soured. 

“Almost tore one of your eardrums, moderate concussion. They had to put pins in your arm to fix the fracture, it was transverse before you ask, lacerations to your legs from the glass, and some shrapnel they pulled out while you were in surgery.” Spencer listed, propping a pillow behind her head for her to rest against more comfortably though he still seemed annoyed, “No biggy,”

She paused for a second, watching him like a scolded child, her lips pulling down slightly, “Are you upset with me?” 

He sighed, running a gentle hand over her leg that was covered by the thin sheet, and she felt the sting of cuts on her skin just like he’d said. 

“I’m not annoyed, I could never be annoyed with you; you just-” He huffed, looking up at her sad eyes and feeling his resolve crumbling immediately, “You can’t just throw yourself in the way of danger, you have people who care about you, people who love you,” 

She bristled for a second, looking into her lap and chewing the inside of her lip worriedly, “I just wanted to help Will, I just didn’t want JJ and Henry to lose him the way I thought I lost Emily,”

Spencer’s heart sank, and any telling off he was going to give her for worrying him left him in seconds, and he forgave her embarrassingly fast.

Taking her hand back in his gently and scooching a chair closer to the bed so he could sit with her, he looked up at her with the sweet, puppy eyes she had always loved on him. 

“I know, I know you just wanted to help,” He hushed her, using his other hand to stroke her hair behind her ear, “Next time just… wait for your lucky charm, remember?” 

She smiled brilliantly, and he almost could ignore the butterfly stitching on her forehead or the bright pink cast on her arm, or the fact her clothes had looked like a crime scene when they’d shoved them in a biohazard bag with how soaked in blood they were.

Her pretty tweed pants and white shirt she’d bought especially for his Dr Who convention to make him happy, wasted. 

“Where’s all my clothes?” She asked, like she’d read his mind, but then again she had been known to do that. 

He pouted, because he knew she’d hate the answer, “Emily said they had to cut it off to get you into the brace properly; they ran some scans first to make sure your spine was intact.”

“All of my clothes?” She baulked, and he knew she was upset before she could even say so he stroked his thumb over her hand for good measure, “But my lovely shirt- and the pants they were so cute, weren’t they?”

“They were so cute,” He agreed, even though he thought she looked good in everything.

“And- oh my god they got my bra too?” She asked, wide eyed and horrified like she hadn’t had a building dropped on her, like this was the worst part of her day. Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better than to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and he was sure Pen could take her shopping for new ones even if the thought of it made his cheeks flush red, “They got the best one, Spencer, that was my best one with the little bows and the lace at the back- fuck,” 

She huffed, rubbing her temple in annoyance seemingly completely unaware of the situation she’d put him in, when JJ slowly entered the room, looking more tired and stressed than she had in months, but there was a little glow in her face that washed it all away. 

“JJ, they cut off my favourite bra,” Bugsy huffed, holding an arm out for the woman who came to stand at the opposite side of the bed to Spencer, and JJ quickly leaned in to hug her close, Bugsy’s head pressing against her stomach, “It was the only one that fit perfectly, now look at me. Wasted.”

“I can get you another one on Monday after Will and I have stopped by the courthouse,” JJ said, her eyes alight with mischief like she had a secret, and Bugsy frowned, looking up at the woman. 

“Why on Earth would Will be buying me- Wait,” The girl stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she took in JJ’s sheepish blush and girlish grin, “Courthouse? You’re getting married!” 

JJ’s smile was beaming, and Bugsy yanked her with her one good arm into a side hug, just about as much as her ribcage would allow, and Spencer’s face lit up equally, though he was quick to usher Bugsy back into a resting position so as not to jostle her stitches. 

Spencer drove her home that night after she got discharged, and he helped her get settled back into her own bed, her face still a little bitter at the fact her favourite underwear set was “totally mismatched now”; her words, not his. He put a documentary on for the two of them until it was time for some more of the painkillers the doctors had sent her packing with, and she fell asleep pretty quickly after that. 

He watched her breaths rising and falling slowly, the sight of her on that stretcher being wheeled into the back of the ambulance flashing in his head like a horror motion picture. Her face had been soaked in blood, her neck in a brace that looked tight enough to crush her, her eyes were weary and dim from what he knew now was the sedative effects of the painkillers. 

He’d almost brought up the fact he’d found a geneticist willing to take a look at his MRI scans to help his migraines; almost brought up that she had finally got back to him with results and a plan of vitamins and dietary changes he could make to help ease his flare ups. 

Spencer almost mentioned it, but he fell asleep listening to Bugsy’s breaths, checking for irregularities, before he had the chance to. 

–

Hot pink did not match ditsy blue whatsoever, she had quickly decided, but the bluebell, floral dress was the only thing she owned long enough to cover the scratches on her legs and arms, and hid the majority of the hideous cast that weighed down her arm. 

Spencer had encouraged her not to come to JJ’s ‘engagement party’, had encouraged her to stay at home and sleep; promised her he would rustle up the best chicken soup she’d ever tasted if it meant she would stay on the couch and rest her marred body. 

But then Rossi had said he just simply couldn’t let a nice occasion go to waste. A few phone calls later, a drop in the ocean of his wealth and within two days the yard to his stately manor had been turned into a ceremony, the whole arch, pews and altar style. 

“You should worry so much, you look lovely,” Spencer softly chided her when he saw her yanking her sleeve further down her arm, trying to cover the hard shell that protected her radius while it healed. She did, despite the fact he had to help her do her eyeliner because she could only do it with her right hand, or that there was still a nasty cut on her forehead that was scabbing up. 

She was still beautiful as ever to him. And it made Spencer’s chest sore. 

It felt like something had cracked between them since that night she had been dropped to his, her pupils wide as dinner plates, her inhibitions lowered to zero, and had pecked his lips like it wouldn’t tear him up inside to have her so close to him knowing it was everything he had ever wanted. 

He knew if she ever kissed him again he couldn’t keep it in anymore, couldn’t stay in this limbo they had found themselves in where all he could think about was how she smelled when she wore his clothes, a mix of his laundry and her skin together, something he’d found himself purely saturated in since she first lived with him after Emily’s funeral. He loved the way her eyes seemed soft and mellow when she looked at him, loved the way his stomach seemed warm and fuzzy when she held his hand, and he knew it wasn’t in the same way it normally was with other people, when he was worried about how many germs they were spreading to him or if they’d had all their shots or if he’d remembered to pack hand sanitizer. His stomach felt funny, and his skin felt sweaty, and his head got scrambled, and it was somehow good. 

He would do anything for her, anything she ever wanted from him and it was hers. 

He knew it way surpassed friendship. It felt like she was his girlfriend, which was absurd because he had never asked her to be. Or maybe it was just him trying to wish it into existence, because he knew he would never ask her. She was too good for him, too good for this world let alone a scrawny, know-it-all like him. 

She simpered under his words, looking at him with tired eyes, though he could tell she still yearned to fluff up her hair or fix her dress because she felt like a polished turd right now. 

“Thankyou,” She said quietly, immediately spotting a waiter carrying a tray of champagne passing by and reaching for a little flute, “Want one? Thank you,”

Spencer shook his head politely, quickly spotting Emily and Morgan moving into the garden with Hotch and Beth not far behind them.

“I’ll be right back, just wait here a second,” He said, gently stroking over her spine with his warm hands, before he darted towards the group. Jack took off running towards Bugsy the second he saw her, and Spencer heard the small ‘ooft’ leave the woman as he collided with her stomach and nearly winded her. He was getting bigger by the minute, Spencer swore. 

“Don’t you look dashing, boy wonder,” Morgan teased, flicking his finger under the lapel of Spencer’s two piece suit that Bugsy had told him more than once fit him like a glove, “Someone to impress?” 

Spencer blanched, his eyes shooting to Emily who seemed to hide a smile, because his feelings for her sister were about as plain to see as the moon that coated their evening in a blue glow. Hotch looked over the younger agent’s shoulder, to where his son was throwing cents into Rossi’s fountain with Bugsy and making wishes, his eyes quickly falling to the pink cast around her wrist, and his face hardened. 

“How is she?” He asked, lips pursed. 

They had seen her in turns at the hospital, but most of the time she had been extremely out of it, Hotch had managed to catch her right before they took her into surgery for her arm, and even then he’d been ushered right back out of the room because they were getting her prepped to be scrubbed down. 

Spencer bit his lip for a second, glancing over his shoulder at Bugsy fishing through her purse with her one good hand for more nickels, before he looked back at them, “She doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it, and don’t bring up her arm or her forehead, she’s a little delicate-”

He was cut off by Penelope squealing behind them, and they turned in unison to see the blonde woman cupping Bugsy’s face, checking herself for more abrasions, stroking over the younger girl’s shoulders as she simply allowed herself to be ragged like a doll. 

Because it was Penny. And Penny always meant well. 

Spencer flustered worriedly, and Morgan chuckled behind him, wrapping an arm over the kid’s shoulder. 

“Can’t protect her forever, lover boy,” Derek said, patting him before he let go, taking Emily’s elbow and walking over to where they were serving hors d'oeuvres. 

Spencer knew that, knew she could handle herself just fine without him. That was what worried him the most. 

–

JJ looked beautiful in her mother’s wedding dress. Bugsy welled up with happiness, true happiness when she saw her friend walking down the aisle with her son, a spitting image of her, in one hand, her father’s arm in the other. 

Will looked besotted, but then again he always did when he looked at JJ. 

Bugsy felt the love in the entire yard as they said their vows, kissing each other without restraint under the floral arch as Henry covered his eyes with a little giggle and an ‘eww!’ which made everyone chuckle. 

The violinists began playing soft hymns as the couple had their first dance, and Henry migrated towards the woman with the pink hand and the sapphire dress. 

“Buggy,” He tugged on the bottom of her skirts, huge, sky-blue eyes blinking up at her behind a mop of blonde furls. “Buggy, your hand!” 

She knelt down to hear the three year old a little better, and immediately tiny fingers trailed over her wrist worriedly. 

“Your hand, it’s hurt,” He said, and Spencer crouched to comfort the boy who he still remembered holding hours after he was born.

“I know, I hurt myself at work,” She said, letting him run his fingers over the pink shelling, his eyes wide and confused about the new material, “But Mommy saved me, and she saved your Daddy, and she saved you, didn’t she? Isn’t she so brave,” 

Henry smiled, like all his thoughts of his mommy being Wonder Woman were true, and he nodded, stepped towards Bugsy while making grabby hands for her neck, “Up,”  

Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t want her to push herself, but he knew she could never say no to kids, especially ones as cute as the boys. 

“Alright, big man, up we go,” She put her good arm under his bottom, Spencer holding under her shoulder to help her into a stand with a repressed grunt, “Jesus, what did you eat for breakfast today. You really are a big boy, Henry,” 

She put him on her hip, shoving off the way it stung her superficial cuts because Henry seemed happy, grabbing a section of her hair in his tiny hands, and stroking her head gently in what Bugsy guessed was the way JJ stroked his when he was unwell. 

“Mommy says you have to have a magic kiss when you get hurt,” Henry babbled, and she smiled, her cheeks hurting because the kid was just sweet enough to eat. 

“Oh, yeah? Is mommy magic then?” She entertained, feeling Spencer still a ghost over her shoulder in case she started struggling to hold the pre-schooler. His godson laughed like she told a joke, shaking his golden locks as he answered. 

“No, Buggy,” He giggled, patting her cheek as she scrunched eyes shut with a smile, “You get a magic kiss when you get fixed. Like this,” He leaned in, leaving a big wet smooch on her cheek that made her giggle, tightening her hold on him with a shiny jaw. Henry turned to where Spencer watched them with a dazzling smile, pointing up at him, little fingernails waving in his face, “Spencer’s turn,”

His godfather faltered, his cheeks turning red and Bugsy looked between the two of them, amused. 

“I can’t, I’m afraid Henry. I’m not magic like you and mommy,” Spencer replied, trying to brush the boy off as kindly as possible. Henry’s face frowned, because he had watched Uncle Spencer pull a coin out of his ear not even half an hour ago and so that statement seemed ridiculous. 

“You have to! You have to give her magic kisses or she won't get better!” Henry ordered, trying to grab Spencer’s bow tie with vigour, “You have to!” 

“Alright, alright,” Spencer agreed, his hands shooting up in surrender, “I’ll give her magic kisses,”

Bugsy looked at him with a heart stopping smile. She looked soft like butter, syrupy and warm as pudding. The moonlight washed her pupils with something like a cartoonish twinkle, and he hoped his forest eyes didn’t turn to two love hearts the way he felt like it did. 

He raised one of his hands to her cheek, the same one Henry just kissed, holding her still. She was cool in the night air, or maybe his hand was just too warm because he was so nervous. He hoped he wasn’t shaking, but her jaw fit into the palm of his hand like it was always meant to be there. 

He dipped his head in to give her a long, delicate kiss to her cheek, running a thumb down the apple of her cheek. 

He pulled away from her, and they exchanged a look, something in her eyes he had rarely seen before. Figuring it was discomfort, or maybe just the light playing tricks on him, he stepped away, and Henry was quickly distracted by a frog hopping through the mildewed grass, and he set Bugsy on the task to help him catch it. 

Spencer busied himself talking to Will and Derek in the hopes his heart would calm down any minute soon, but he had quickly felt himself becoming somewhat addicted to the feel of her skin beneath his lips. He wondered lewdly if the rest of her would feel so soft as her cheek had, and immediately scolded himself for it. 

The thought haunted him for the rest of the night.

-

Penny twirled her around by her good arm, and the two of them giggled like school girls under the fairy-light woven pergola, the string quartet finishing off the fast paced song they had switched up the mood with. The blonde was careful about not jostling the woman too much, she could already feel Spencer and Emily’s worried looks from where they sat together at a table, nursing their drinks mid chat. 

But whether it was the fact she had been cooped up for days on bed rest orders (Spencer’s, not the Doctor’s, though he’d argued that was the same thing,) or that last morphine patch had really given her a kick up the behind, but she seemed to be hiding the pain well. 

JJ would only have one wedding, she’d argued with Spencer, she could have a hundred days in bed, but there would only be one night like this one; when they were all together, safe and happy, when there was enough palpable love in the air that fell over everyone's shoulders like a warm hug. He’d grumbled that he was usually the optimistic one and zipped up her dress for her with shaky fingers anyway. 

Before Penny could spin her round even one more time, a figure appeared two tower over the blonde, and a voice cut in between them politely.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me lead the next dance, I think Reid and Prentiss might just tackle you if you shake her up anymore,” Aaron’s voice was soft, inviting with the one and a half beers he’d had edging at his tone, almost teasing in a way so rare for a man so stern. 

Penelope looked over Bugsy’s shoulder to indeed see the woman’s two guard dogs watching her like a hawk, Bug’s already opened purse on Spencer lap where her emergency painkillers were. 

“Oh god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Spencer frown like that, it’s like watching a puppy resource guarding,” Penelope faltered, looking the woman head to toe as if she was being held against her will to dance by the blonde, “You’re not hurt or anything- you’d tell me if you were hurt, wouldn’t you?”

Bugsy chuckled, throwing her good arm over the woman’s shoulder, “Relax, they’re both worry warts. I’m having fun, Pen. I think Hotch just wanted a turn with the ugly barbie,”

Against Penelope’s better judgement, she gave the woman a kiss on the cheek with a sigh of defeat, though she had been so careful not to push her in fear of her cracking another rib, but she had loved seeing Bugsy smile like that again. 

Derek was quick to swoop in to save her, swooping in to steal her for a dance as Aaron gently took Bugsy’s waist and good hand, entirely respectable and gentle in his touch. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, your bell got a little rung in that bank,” Aaron murmured, trying not to fret over the gash on her forehead that had a few butterfly stitches pulling it together. He remembered how frail she’d felt in his arms the last time he’d properly seen her, like a baby bird with its wings snapped in his hands. He was worried he was going to be burying her too, just like he had Emily, just like he had Haley, except he knew for her there wasn’t a catch, an escape route to Paris. There wouldn’t have been a do over.

But she was okay. Broken bones and all. 

She smiled at him, as if to remind him just how alive she was, and he saw how her eyes were bloodshot and tired, as if it was taking all of her energy to keep her head upright. 

“If you knew how many morphine patches are on my butt right now, you’d freak,” She said, and he laughed, because she was always good at getting those from him. Bugsy relaxed in his arms, and he rocked her side to side sweetly, not quite dancing but moving passively to the soft melody the band was playing. 

Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t in work mode, or maybe it was because the night air was cosy and light, or maybe she just weaselled out the guilt that had been stored in his chest for nearly a year, but he let himself look at her with a sad, sepia gaze, and it was like she knew what he was going to say before he said it. 

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologise,” She cut in quickly, her own expression falling into something forlorn, “You have nothing to apologise for, Aaron,”

He took a deep breath through his nose, “I do. That wasn’t right how I treated you. You’re not spoiled.” 

“I can be, sometimes,” She argued defeatedly, but he shook his head before she could add to it, “You were doing what was best to keep Emily safe, it was her I was more mad at than anything. She’s my sister, she should have trusted me, you and JJ didn’t owe me anything.”

“We owed you a better explanation than we gave,” He said, watching her sigh and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He cursed Spencer for allowing her to wear heels in her condition, though he didn’t doubt that the pretty boy had put up just as much fight as he would have seeing her grab the shoes on her way out, “I never meant to hurt you so much. And we do owe you better, we’re a family. Families fight, and they say mean things and they tell white lies sometimes but we love each other, and I only ever wanted to keep everyone safe. Okay?”

She nodded against his blazer material, dropping his hand in the interest of wrapping both her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, ignoring the dulled ache of her ribcage.

“I love you too,” She murmured, and he gave her a feather-light squeeze back, all too aware of her bones creaking under her skin, “I’m sorry I hit you,”

She let go of him, and he held her hand, the tips of her fingers poking out from beneath her cast that already had Jack’s name scrawled over in black sharpie. 

“I deserved it, I was being cruel,” He said honestly. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but the emptiness in her laugh, in the way she’d stormed out, had scared him. He thought even if she lashed out, if she screamed at him or cried that would be better than the silent treatment because at least then he would know where she stood with him. But instead he had driven the knife in deeper, and for that he couldn’t say he blamed her for it, “I’ve had worse, much worse. Maybe you’re not as tough as you think,”

She baulked, and realised he was teasing her, “Maybe we could go round two Monday morning, I bet it would hurt a lot having a hard plaster cast swung at your face,” 

“For me or for you?” She smacked his arm with her good hand, and it made him chuckle again, and soon she was laughing too, resting her head back onto his shoulder comfortably, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bug,”

“Did you not hear where I put those morphine patches? I could paper mache with those bastards,” 

And they danced between chuckles for another half an hour. 

–

“Wait, wait, you’re going to compress her spine,” Derek stopped, Bugsy dipped at his waist where he was supporting her full weight because she’d complained she missed dancing with Penelope. She hated people walking on eggshells around her, and if anyone was going to have fun with her who could still make sure she was safe, it was Derek. 

The woman grinned up at him, Derek’s hands safely around her waist and not pressing on her ribs whatsoever, though she had to admit she was ready for another dose of painkillers after a few hours of dancing between Hotch, then to JJ who had swiftly been taken over by Henry who wanted to be lifted high enough he could hold Bugsy’s hands like he had seen the others doing. David had even entertained her with a very slow three step waltz, until Derek had been her next target because he seemed to be having the most fun whirling Emily around the dance floor. 

“Spencer!” She said and Morgan returned her to full height once he saw Reid’s fretful expression. She pouted, “Spencer, I was having fun,”

“You know what’s fun? Eating cake is fun, drinking water is fun, resting on the couch is fun,” He said, and Morgan was quick to hand the baby Prentiss over to Reid who rifled around his pocket to produce the tablet version of her buprenorphine, “You need more medicine or it’s going to hurt worse in the morning, remember? Getting ahead of the pain?”

She sighed, nodding, and before he could pop two out of the shiny, metal coated tray, she stopped him, “Wait, dance with me first,”

He looked at her incredulously, eyes softening when she stepped closer to him, her hand coming over the top of his to push the pain killers away, “It’s going to hurt more if you don’t get ahead of it now,”

“I know, I know,” She muttered, nodding docilely, “Look, I promise if you just dance with me a little now, I’ll have my meds and take it easy for the rest of the night, no questions asked,”

He looked unconvinced, because she was known to put up a fight when it came to doing something she didn’t want to. 

She sighed, “If I sit down now, I know I won’t be getting back up again for the rest of the night, and I wanted to enjoy myself until I couldn’t anymore,”

Spencer looked at her pleading puppy dog eyes, and broke almost embarrassingly fast, letting her follow his hand into his pocket, putting the drugs away and letting her take his now free hand in his own. 

“I’ll have it known I tried to stop this when this catches up to you and you have to go lay down on Rossi’s spare bed,” He argued back, but felt his stomach flip when she laced her fingers with his, pushing herself closer to him as a means of drawing him out of his grumpy mood. 

“He has more than enough, just dance with me,” She brushed his attitude off, wrapping her plaster-cast over his shoulder. 

He took her waist gently, feeling the plush, softness of her hips and wishing the heat away from his cheeks. She looked divine under the fairy lights, ready to be whisked away by sleep yes, but the sleepy blinks added to her charm, and she was soft and pliant under his touch like a tame cat ready to curl up on his chest.

“I had so much fun,” She said, meeting his adoring gaze, probably because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. He nodded, worrying then if his hair was sitting right or if hid bowtie needed straightening. She was a goddess in his arms, the colour of her dress matching her skin beautifully, a few wisps of hair falling over her eyes from where Penny had damn near done the quick step with her. 

She looked like a dream.

“I never thanked you for everything you did for me when Emily was-” She gulped, her eyes suddenly down turned, like she couldn’t admit anything to the hazel of his eyes, not when they looked at her like that. “You were the only thing I had for a very long time, and I never really said how much it all meant to me,”

“You’re my best friend, I’m always going to be there for you,” He said, lovingly stroking a thumb over her skin, his voice tender as this touch, “That’s what friends are for,”

Even though he was sure he’d never felt this way about any of his friends before, even the tiny crush he’d had on JJ for all of two weeks when he’d first started at the BAU didn’t even make a mark on how she got his chest hammering like a jackrabbit. 

Her face flickered with something he couldn’t read, and she nodded, “Right. Friends.” She swallowed heavily. 

She slumped against him, like the wind had been taken out of her, her head on his shoulder, but it felt nothing like when she had danced with Hotch. 

It felt like everything she’d ever wanted was right in her grasp, like the one person who made her feel whole again was pressed against her, stroking down her spine with an affection she could swear blind was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Like the only air she knew how to breathe was filling her lungs, every note of fresh linen, the hair gel he sometimes used to tame his curls, down to the faint smell of his apartment, so filled with books the smell of worn leather and thin paper seeped into his clothes. 

She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew Spencer. She felt like she’d always known him. 

He wasn’t just her friend, he was every bit of her that she wasn’t. Every ugly part of her that had always felt so alone, like loneliness was just ingrained into her since birth that seemed to jump up in a strange feeling of longing and home whenever he was near. 

She let herself revel in his arms as long as she could, because she knew it was so illicit to be feeling so hungry for something she couldn’t have. She knew he was too good for her; she had never deserved any scrap of kindness he gave her. She could be mean, and rude, and loud, and ugly, and spiteful and he was everything she wasn’t. He was kind, and sweet, and gentle, and loving, and he didn’t deserve someone like her; he deserved so much better. 

Bugsy let herself stay against his chest for a while longer, slowly swaying with him under the moonlight as JJ and Will took each other in their arms; a couple that fit together, Bugsy thought, two people who were so right for one another. Who deserved their happiness. 

And so she selfishly let herself pretend she could have him as long as she could, silently dancing together under the pergola, until she agreed to go sit down because she would never admit that the ache in her side had started to seep back in, and he fussed over her some more and she told him he was being silly, but she preened under his affections anyway. 

They’d reached a stalemate, Spencer would have probably called it.

Bugsy knew she shouldn’t want him, but she did. She shouldn’t want him because he was the pretty boy, the sweetheart that sat untainted by everything he’d seen and endured, the one who had jumped and cleared every hurdle life had thrown at him where she had fallen flat. He had gotten better on his own after Hankel; she had crashed and burned and taken nearly everyone with her. He was strong, and she was weak. She shouldn’t want him, it was selfish, but she did. 

Spencer knew he couldn’t have her, because she was beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, beyond his best friend, beyond the girl who kissed him and didn’t ever want to talk about it again. He couldn’t have her because she was still healing, still wounded and vulnerable and rattled from barely recovering her relationship with her sister before she’d had a bank dropped on top of her. It would be wrong, it would be selfish, she would never want some scrawny kid from a shitty home where he was beaten up by girls even smaller than him and wedgied so hard he had to follow the librarian to class. He was a nobody. He couldn’t have her because she deserved so much better, but he wanted her. 

They sat at a stalemate for a few weeks longer, until Emily got a job offer in London, and she asked Bugsy to take an internship at Interpol one of her old associates had sent to her. Twelve weeks learning how international databases worked, even some forensic work for Scotland Yard if she played her cards right. 

And she took it; without much warning she took it, even if not to give herself some breathing space from how much her chest pined to be back in Spencer’s arms she had that night. 

Bugsy headed to London, and didn’t look back. 

2. The one with Maeve

Four Months. Bugsy had been in England for four months. 

At first, they had called regularly, almost every other day, except the days she was just too tired to stay up until two am to call him when he got home. They had spent an hour on the phone at least; she had asked about the team, the cases, if he missed her yet which he always told her to knock it off because of course he missed her, and he had asked about London, and what England was like, and how Emily was doing. 

Until around two months in when her schedule had changed to night shifts, and they could only ever communicate by texts, at which point he had been the one struggling to talk because he had no clue how to work his phone. She had called the odd time on her half an hour lunch break, but it was always rushed, never consistent, usually ending up with her excusing herself and hanging up on him fast because she was needed urgently somewhere else. 

Cynically enough, the only time she could ever call was Sundays. Sundays when he was already busy, Sundays when he was admittedly on the phone, only he wasn’t talking to her. 

He was talking to Maeve. 

The geneticist he had been ready to tell her all about before JJ’s wedding, who had all but cleared up his migraines within a few sessions, who had asked him three days after Bugsy had flown out what had made his head flare up again and so he’d told her. Told her his best friend moved to another country temporarily, that he missed her and had been looking after her cats for her while she was gone because her new landlord wouldn’t let them have pets. And it had spiralled from there, she had asked more about the rest of his life, and he had asked about hers, and suddenly they weren’t just talking about his migraines anymore, they were flirting. 

He hadn’t told Maeve that he was in love with said friend who had taken a great opportunity with both hands and fled the second she could. He couldn’t hold it against her, not when he was choosing his calls with Maeve over the only chance he had to speak to Bugsy, and four months really wasn’t that long in the scheme of things. 

That was what he’d tried telling himself at least. He missed her more than anything, and the only thing that he’d found combatted the sting of her being gone was Maeve. 

Maeve; who he had never seen, whose voice was sweet and alluring, who got his humour the way girls rarely ever did (besides Bug ofcourse). Who liked what he liked, and could talk his ear off about what she’d been reading, and about her day in the lab. 

She was Bugsy in every other font, every other manner, and best of all she liked him. She told him weeks ago she liked him, that she wanted to date him, that he was her dream guy. 

Call him a cynic for enjoying having a chance with someone, then that’s what he was. 

Life since he had tried pushing away his unrequited feelings for one Prentiss girl had been going swimmingly. He liked their new team mate, Alex Blake, the brilliant linguist who warmed to him quite quickly; he had a girl at his heels who returned his feelings, who was everything he always said he looked for in a partner, even without having ever seen her face, and he was rather enjoying having Nico and Sergio around to keep him company. 

But as it always did, the contented limbo he’d found himself in where he might actually be able to get a girlfriend came to a screeching halt on Sunday afternoon when he was stepping outside at three forty-five, readying himself for the ten minute walk to the nearest phone booth for their call at four pm on the dot. He had just about locked his front door, turning on his heel with his scarf draped over his shoulders when he had collided with someone’s chest. 

“Oh I’m so- Bugsy?” 

“Spencer!” She smiled at him wider than she ever had before, and she threw her arms over his shoulders because he had never protested to her affection before, “It’s so good to see you- I missed you so much, there’s so much I have to tell you-”

“What are you doing here?” It sounded like a confrontation, though he hadn’t meant it that way, just that he hadn’t been expecting her back for another two weeks at least and he certainly hadn’t expected to see her today, right before he was about to go call the girl he was sort of seeing, sort of not. 

She bristled at his tone, because he didn’t sound nearly as happy to see her as she had expected. Pulling away, she realised he hadn’t even bothered to hug her back, and she tried to shove away the embarrassment that she’d never ever felt in front of him before. 

“I- just- I wanted to surprise you. Interpol said I could finish early since I’d finished all my paperwork and could take the exams online in a few weeks,” She stammered, feeling uncharacteristically stuck for what to say. He flicked a look down to his wrist, his brows furrowed like she was taking up too much time, “Is something wrong, did I do something wrong?”

“No, you just-” He breathed heavily out of his nose, running a hand through his hair, “I’m late for something,”

“I’ll drive you!” She jumped at the chance, fishing for her keys in her pocket, “Car’s right out front, I sort of just threw it there because I wanted to see you,”

“I’m walking,” He said, in that frustrated tone again and she stopped looking at her jacket, her eyes snapping to his as he looked past her like she was in his way. 

“O-okay, well then do you want company?” She said, her bag heavy with the souvenir she got him, though now it seemed to be weighing her down. 

“It’s sort of personal,” He replied shortly, like she was a stranger selling him something on his doorstep, when really he was just cursing his luck that the girl he’d spent months trying to get over was here in front of him like someone was waving a bone in his face and he was a pup being told to sit. He was cursing the fact that he had spent hours and hours dreaming of the minute he’d see her again and she had showed up out of the blue after weeks of little to no communication like a damn hallucination of the senses. 

She stopped then, her face contorting into a frown, “Is everything okay, are you sure I didn’t do anything-”

“You could have called, I’m kind of busy, Bugsy,” Spencer replied, even though he knew he was being unreasonable. It wasn’t her fault she was unravelling all of his progress just by being there. He thought he was finally getting over her, and with one whiff of her perfume, of her shampoo mixed with her natural scent, he was remembering just how in love with her he had been just a few months ago, like Pavlov’s fucking dog. 

Her face fell then, into something kicked and hurt, “Sorry- my phone died on the plane, I didn’t even think, I just- I just wanted to see you,” 

He faltered, the frustration leaking out of him, but before he could really say much else, she’d taken a step away, swung around to head for the stairs, “Sorry, I’ll call next time, sorry I got in your way, Spence,” 

And she sounded genuine, not annoyed like he would expect for someone who’d been spoken to like trash. The guilt seeped in almost immediately, but then his mind ticked over the minutes he had left until Maeve would be expecting a call. Nine minutes now, he would need to speed walk. 

He could make it up to Bugsy as soon as he was done with the girl who was almost her but not. 

–

Spencer felt like an idiot. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the look on her face when she had left his apartment, nor had he not stopped chiding himself for not heading straight out after her. 

His phone call with Maeve hadn’t gone how he’d expected, which would have been the only thing soothing the burn of his scathing tone, except she had hung up rather abruptly after he had suggested they meet up, something that had played on his mind for weeks now. 

“Are you being safe?” He asked, the payphone hard and cold in his hand as he pressed it to his ear. 

She chuckled softly down the phone, a sound that would have made his heart flutter if he hadn’t been feeling so wound up about seeing Bugsy, “Yes, I’m being safe,” 

“Do you think he knows about us?” Spencer dared to ask after a moment of silence, because he could tell it was worrying her too. He wondered if the two of them would be dating by now if it wasn’t for the fact she had a stalker who may or may not turn his attention to Spencer if he realised they were seeing one another. 

“No, as far as I can tell he doesn’t,” She said, her voice slightly more rigid than what he was used to. Her voice was always honey smooth when they spoke, and Spencer had more than enough time to wonder if it ever matched what she looked like. “And we need to keep it that way,” 

The line went dead, and with it the only thing that he’d been telling himself was worth hurting his best friend even the tiniest bit went with it. 

Spencer felt like an asshole. He’d tried calling Bugsy’s phone, then when she hadn’t answered he’d tried asking Penelope, who said she’d gone to visit JJ, Will and Henry since he was too busy. 

At least that would have lightened her mood, he hoped, as he walked into the office Monday morning, and saw her at her desk, already chatting to Penelope with Derek’s arm around her shoulder. 

She was all smiles today, pretty much how she had looked yesterday before he had all but kicked her out, and the sinking feeling in his chest tripled when she looked past Penelope’s shoulder and saw him. Her eyes wavered for a second, head turning downwards as if she hadn’t properly spotted him, 

“Pretty boy! Look who it is,” Derek called him over, even though he was already speed walking and he stopped in front of her, looking her head to toe for the first time fully. 

He realised then her hair was slightly different, that she’d had it cut shorter since the last time he’d seen her, that she’d gotten a new ear piercing. It made her look older, more mature than when he’d last seen her, or maybe he had just not seen her in so long. Maybe he just hadn’t bothered, he thought painfully.

“I saw him yesterday,” Bugsy said, and he felt caught immediately, Penelope’s head whipping to him, “He was kinda busy though, weren’t you, Spence? More of a passing visit.” 

She sounded indifferent to yesterday’s rudeness, like it hadn’t really phased her despite the fact he’d seen for his own eyes the way her expression dropped. 

“I was- I had an appointment,” He said, because he felt the need to explain himself even if he couldn’t.

She smiled at him, something dampened and fake, “I leave for a few months and suddenly boy wonder is too busy to talk to me, what is the world coming to,” She joked, and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, though Penny and Derek laughed. 

“No, really, I had an appointment-” He tried to reason, but Penelope stopped him before he could fret too much, his hands wringing and he tried to lie on the spot without getting caught. 

“She’s just kidding, Spence, don’t worry,” Pen shook him off warmly, quickly grabbing Bugsy’s arm tightly, the faint scar where she’d had her surgery trailing up her skin, “Now, to my bat cave, where we can talk all about just how good British guys are in bed without the boy germs getting all over our gossip,” 

Bugsy laughed, allowing herself to be pulled along, right past Spencer without a second glance, despite the fact he looked like he was about to throw up. 

Why hadn’t he thought about that? Why hadn’t he considered for a second that she would meet anyone, if not seriously, then for a one night stand? What if all those nights she was too busy to talk she had been with someone, someone much cooler and hotter and overall more experienced than he was. He was thirty years old and he had only ever slept with two women, one being Austin the bartender she’d told him to go after despite him lingering around her the whole night, the other being a girl he’d met in O’Keeffes after a hard case when he had been a few months sober, wanting anything, anyone, to take his mind away from going back to the little vial of trouble. 

How could he be so stupid? Of course she’d be hooking up with other people. She was young and gorgeous and smart as a whip and single. She’d be any guy's dream. 

He knew he was being so, so disgustingly hypocritical. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Maeve for months, and yet here he was seething with jealousy at the very thought of Bugsy being with someone who could love her without feeling guilty for loving her. 

Spencer swallowed his pride and set his stuff down on his desk, watching Penelope grab Alex and drag her to her bat cave on her way, the older woman lighting up at the fact she was meeting the Bugsy Prentiss. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and felt a migraine start to ache behind his eyes. 

–

“Alex- Blake, where are you going?” Spencer called, shoving his cell in his back pocket as he jogged toward the woman about to climb into the SUV.

Sure enough, Bugsy had been back in the office for one hour before they were getting pulled into another case, and she was more than happy to jump in to help with her new found skills in Interpol. 

It was a gruesome case, which was saying something for all the shit they’d seen. The UnSub was amputating legs off one victim to then put onto his next one. There had been one guy waking up in his hotel room with both legs missing below the knee, then another gentleman had walked into an ER room with legs that weren’t his own attached to his sockets. 

It made Bugsy’s skin crawl, but that was simply a day's work for them. They were at the most recent victim’s body; a woman who seemed to have been too weak to survive the surgery had been dumped on the street with her limbs switched to someone else’s. They had at least one other victim they hadn’t found yet, the girl thought darkly. 

“Hotch called, he wants us back at the station ASAP,” The woman replied, Bugsy at her side.

“Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main, it’s on the way?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest to ignore the frown the youngest Prentiss gave him, confusion written across her face. 

“Uh, yeah sure. What’s at 5th and Main?” Alex asked, also confused as to what was so pressing he needed to side track their case. 

“I need to talk to somebody,” He replied shortly, the same cut off tone he’d used with Bugsy just the day before, and Alex faltered. 

“Yeah, uh, okay. Sure.” She agreed, not wanting to rock the boat considering she was still so new to the BAU. She looked over at Bugsy, who seemed disgruntled as she headed for the passenger side, Spencer climbing into the back of the SUV with a troubled look on his face when their eyes met in the rear-view mirror. 

“You’re coming with us?” He asked, looking on edge when he saw she’d gotten into their car and not into JJ’s like she had on their way over there.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” Bugsy asked, and he shrugged, playing with his fingertips in his lap. 

“No, that’s fine, I just didn’t know you were coming with us,” He replied shortly, his face starting to warm when he realised how rude he’d sounded. He heard her sigh, and look out the window with no more protest in her. 

Alex didn’t ask questions as she put the handbrake down, perhaps sensing the tension in the car between the two agents, and she didn’t need to be a profiler to tell there was either a lot unsaid between them or maybe even words that no one could take back. 

Either way she did as he’d asked, because Bugsy hadn’t actually protested, just bit at her fingernails that said she was thinking too hard, and stepped on the gas.

–

The car pulled around to where a dimly lit payphone sat, empty and looking like it hadn’t been used in years. Which it probably hadn’t, besides as a dog urinal. 

Alex stopped the car, and Spencer was already opening the door before she could even put it into neutral, “Do you want us to wait?” 

“Uh, you know what, it might take a while, so I’ll just get a cab back,” He said, his tone clipped and leaving little room for questions. He felt Bugsy staring at him in confusion from the front seat, and he avoided her gaze like the plague, even if there was something sad in them that he was being so distant. “Thanks anyway,” He hopped out the car slamming the door shut, and digging through his pocket for change as he headed for the payphone. 

Alex drove off, and he felt his chest get lighter for it, because he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the act. 

He hated lying, especially to her. Every morsel of his being writhed in discontent whenever he would lie, like the truth was just begging to slip out one way or another, and he knew he would only feel all the more guilty for it as soon as the case was over and he couldn’t avoid her eyes that haunted him like a wraith or her touch that seemed to have been kept to herself since he had snubbed her hug at his doorway. 

He knew he was pulling away, knew she was doing the same thing, and he hated it. 

Bugsy sat in the car, her face moody as anything as she glared out the window and Alex took the corner around the block. 

“So is it usually like this between you two?” Alex dared to ask, her food steady on the pedal, “The lingering looks, the awkward silences? From what Penelope told me, the two of you are as close as can be,”

“Yeah, usually we are,” Bugsy replied coldly, and within a second she was unplugging her seatbelt, “In fact, pull back around the block. I’m done with him being an asshole without an explanation.”

Alex felt like she had just pulled a pin from her grenade with her delicate question, though she had meant entirely well, and did as the girl told her to, worried just what might blow up in her face if she didn’t.

Spencer had already dialled the number he knew off by heart, with or without his eidetic memory, by the time they pulled around. 

His face dropped, knowing the returning call would be coming any minute now and he just hoped Maeve wasn’t too worried about him. But he had no time to think about her, because the second he saw Bugsy getting out of the car he could tell she was pissed. 

Pissed in a way she had never been with him, but then he supposed, he had never treated her like that either. 

“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, Spencer, because I’m tired of the clipped responses and the pushing me away,” She said, walking over to him like he owed her money. Which he didn’t. But he did owe her a good explanation as to what the hell was going on with them, “Did I do something? You can tell me if I’m an asshole, I know I can be an asshole, but you have to tell me so I can fix it-”

“You haven’t done anything, Bug, just please get back in the car,” Spencer cut her off, which was clearly the wrong move as he saw her brow raise at him. 

“Something’s not right, Spencer,” Alex agreed, though she held back because hurricane Bugsy seemed to be more than enough intimidation for the guy, “What’s the deal?”

“What do you mean? Why did you guys come back?” He rushed, because he could feel his face warming, and he played with his fingertips like he did when he was struggling. 

“Don’t answer a question with a question,” Bugsy chided, and he rubbed his palm with his thumb self-soothingly, and that was what tripped him up. Her eyes zeroed on his hands, looking back up at him and he almost went white at the predicament he’d found himself in, “You’re lying about something,”

“No, I’m not, I would never lie to you-” She pulled his hands apart, looking at him with hurt written across her soft features. 

“Bullshit, I know when you’re lying, Spencer, or did you just forget that we’re best friends. That seems to mean nothing to you nowadays,” She snapped, and he could only look back at the phone booth, knowing that she would be calling any second now, “Are you even listening to me?” 

Her tone was hurt, wounded, because he had to admit he was being inconsiderate. 

“A while back, I found a geneticist that helped clear up my migraines, and we stayed in touch while you were in London,” He said, because that was all true, and she couldn’t call him a liar again if he was telling the truth.

“So? What does that have to do with the case,” Alex prompted, her own face scrunched in ire as he hopped around the subject. 

“I think maybe my friend may be able to see something we’ve missed.” Spencer rushed out, his eyes puppy like as he willed Bugsy to stop looking so damn betrayed. 

“You have four of the best minds I know back at the station, you have a woman with a biochemistry master's standing in front of you who dabbled in medicine for fun, but you need your friend for help?” Alex responded, because there was no way he was getting out of the hole he’d dug himself if she had anything to say about it. She too, as new to the team as she was, had no time for secrets on a job where trust meant everything. 

“I know, but sometimes a different perspective helps me think better, okay?” He replied, his hand itching to take his palm back because he knew it still wasn’t the full truth. 

Bugsy scoffed, crossing her arms over one another, and shifting her weight to one foot. 

“You’re being ambiguous, you always do that when you’re lying,” She muttered, loud enough for him to hear and he gulped, turning his head to the ground. 

“All of this begs a bigger question, why did you ask me to bring you?” Alex asked, because she was thinking the same thing. 

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, but his spine straightened impossibly when the payphone began ringing, and he seemed skittish like a naughty school child.

“You could have asked JJ or Morgan to drive you, but you asked me. You had a problem with Bugsy coming, because you didn’t think she’d be with us, so what’s the deal? Why me?” Alex pushed, and Spencer flustered, his head whipping around to where the high pitched chime continued, and he knew she didn’t have much time before the line went dead. 

“Alex, please,” Spencer begged, feeling Bugsy’s eyes boring into the side of his head as he avoided her gaze like the plague. 

“Just answer the question,” Bugsy bit out, because she was sick of being ignored all day, of being treated like she was contaminated or like he had never known her a day in his life. Not when she had flown on the first plane back to see him because she missed him more than she could ever tell him. 

Not when she had been racing up the stairs to his apartment, her souvenir in her bag, the words on the foreword written in her own hand ready to tell him how she felt. 

Because she knew it, after weeks of not seeing him, hours of just missing him and the few texts back and forth, she knew it. She knew she had to tell him, even if they had to brush it under the rug to be friends again, even if it was a shot in the dark she had to tell him. 

She couldn’t choke it down anymore.  

Only when she’d gotten there, thrown her arms around him, he almost felt like a stranger beneath her hand, almost felt like he never even knew her.

Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Alex because he thought he might just crack if he looked at Bugsy when he said it. 

“Because I didn’t want them to know about her, alright?” 

And she knew it then, knew it by the way he’d softened entirely when he said her, the way he seemed to melt just by thinking of her, the way he cowered into taking a step back towards the phone booth. It wasn’t just his geneticist, it was someone else entirely. Someone so much more to him.  

Bugsy felt a lump in her throat, and she forced with all her might to not let her eyes well with tears. Because friends didn’t feel like they’d been sucker punched in the gut at hearing they were seeing someone else. Friends didn’t feel an all consuming jealousy writhe under their skin at the idea of them being with someone who wasn’t them, feeling something for someone who wasn’t them. 

That wasn’t what just friends did. 

And Bugsy thought with horror, as he picked up the phone and spoke in hushed, gentle tones that he once did with her, that they might never be friends again. 

3. The one with their first date

Things were weird. Really weird. And painful. Really, really fucking painful.

Bugsy and Spencer had never been like this, never been so cold besides the first time they’d ever met, and even then she had warmed him from the inside out. She was sharing her sharlotka within hours of even knowing him, never even knowing he was knee deep in an addiction he was struggling to face alone, and that she had made him feel better than he had in weeks with her smile and her kindness and her quick witted brain. 

Things were strange between them, and it was becoming noticeable too. 

She boarded the jet behind Alex, the woman taking a seat next to Hotch at the table, the only other seat left being next to Reid, who stopped midway through what he was saying.

“It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes, eighty four percent of stalking victims have some sort of original connection with their stalkers, meaning-” He paused, and so did she for a fraction of a second, debating whether to sit beside him. She straightened quickly, dipping her head down and looking to the floor, and bristling past the empty seat to sit herself next to JJ on the couch. 

He cleared his throat, trying to look like his face hadn’t dropped in hurt, and continued.

Hotch and JJ exchanged a look, the same silent message reading clear in their eyes. 

The blonde looked up from her file as the others chatted, Penelope piping up from their computer, and glanced at the younger woman who was unpacking her things on her lap, despite there being a perfectly good table next to them. 

“You alright, Bug?” JJ asked, trying not to seem too worried, yet she knew she was coming off troubled by the tense behaviour from the pair of them.  

It had been three weeks of this, the silences, the uncomfortable pauses, the avoiding each other at all costs. The only time they ever really spoke was on a case, when they were closing in on an UnSub and their feelings had to be put to one side for the moment. Well, her feelings. Because all of his feelings were occupied as of the moment. With Maeve. 

She couldn’t stomach talking about the woman anymore, couldn’t stand Derek’s teasing remarks about how lover boy was getting lucky, or Penelope’s thousands and one questions about the geneticist that she knew had come from a place of care, or Alex’s motherly guidance on his love life. The entire thing made her feel queasy, and she stayed quiet most days in the way he’d always hated, the way he’d always tried to pry her out of. 

But nowadays he didn’t bother. Didn’t bother much with her at all, really. 

“Yep,” Bugsy said, her lips tight, “Peachy,” 

JJ knew not to ask any more than that. 

–

Human marionettes were a first for her, she had to admit. They had already found two victims stuffed into boxes with craft paper surrounding them, their limbs almost entirely broken out of their sockets ante-mortem. It was a time sensitive case, with two deaths in three days and no sign of slowing down, and so that meant that of course the two brains of the team were assigned together, even if Hotch saw the way her face dropped when he’d said it. 

She was drawing the geographical profile on the board, the squeaking of the marker against the screen the only sound in the room aside from Spencer’s flicking of pages. 

“Did you get the first dump site?” He asked, even though he knew she more than likely would have done. 

“Mhm,” She said, not bothering to actually say anything, because it was a stupid question she knew he was only asking to fill the awkward silence between them. 

“What about the store that sold the outfits, did you get-” He started, only for her to cut him off with a clipped tone. 

“Got it, and I got the radius around the store, and I got the second dumpsite.” Bugsy replied, capping the lid to the marker pen and setting it down on the desk beside him, “I’m going to get coffee. Want one?” 

Though she didn’t stick around long enough to really hear his response. She simply waltzed out of the room to the tiny kitchenette the police station had to offer, in search of anything that would keep her occupied and away from snapping at him. 

What had she really got to be mad at him for? For getting a girlfriend? For rubbing it in everyone's face how happy she made him, how perfectly suited she was for him? Except she didn’t think that last one was necessarily true, it just felt that way because it cut her so deep to hear about the girl who was everything she wanted to be. She had no right to be mad at him for anything except being distant with her since she got back from London. 

She still made him a coffee half heartedly, swirling in a tonne of sugar the way she knew he would like, because he never changed being so perfectly him in the time she was away. 

She used to tell him he didn’t need all that sugar because he was sweet enough as he was, because it was true. He used to be entirely honeyed and saccharine when he spoke to her, now she was lucky if she got a full good morning. 

Bugsy bit her lip to stop it from quivering, and took the mugs back to the tiny office they were stationed in, seeing Alex at the door and hearing half their conversation.

“Is this about, uh, phone booth girl?” Blake asked, and Bugsy wanted to snap because what else would they be talking about. Her name was Maeve, she wanted to snarl, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve, Queen of the Fairies and of Spencer’s heart, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve. 

She never hated a name so viscerally, though she knew in deep down it wasn’t her fault. Maeve didn’t do anything wrong, she just fell in love with Dr Spencer Reid and his charms. She couldn’t blame her, really. It wasn’t difficult to do so. 

“She wants to meet,” Spencer’s voice was soft and nervous, and it was the most she’d heard him talk all day. 

Bugsy froze, and Alex’s jaw dropped, “Wait, you guys have never met?” She saw Spencer shake his head just before she rounded the corner back into the office, feeling like she was intruding immediately, “Aren’t you curious what she looks like?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter what she looks like, she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me,” She stopped at the doorway, feeling like she’d had the entire cup of hot coffee dumped over her chest in a scalding pain the minute she’d heard it. 

Spencer called her beautiful many, many times before, both when she’d been done up to the nines and even when she was running away from a damn wedding in the middle of a storm and she looked like a sewer rat. 

But that didn’t matter, because everything about Maeve was beautiful to him, and that was where she seemed to draw the short straw. Because who would find her selfishness beautiful? Or her spoiled nature, or how she could be so crass and rude she had been in more fights before she started the BAU than she’d care to admit. But Maeve was nothing like that. She was sweet and gentle and beautiful on the inside. 

Bugsy plonked his coffee down harder than she’d wanted to, and he thanked her, pausing for a second as he looked between Alex and Bugsy, the second woman now sipping her steaming coffee freely and pinning maps to an adjacent board as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He said, fiddling with his sleeves, “I mean; I slouch, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked,” 

“Your hair’s fine,” Alex combats back, watching the girl down her drink in a few sips, “Jesus, do you have asbestos in your throat?” 

Bugsy turned to her and shrugged silently, “I’m tired, I needed the caffeine,” 

Alex watched her with a hesitant eye, as if she was keeping just as close an eye on her as Jennifer but didn’t want to say, before she stepped away from the doorway, “Alright, I gotta run. You kids update us if you find something out.” 

And with that Blake took her leave, leaving the room in silence for a moment, and Bugsy heard Spencer thinking too loud with that big brain of his. 

She sighed, tacking a map of the city up next to the other one with points of interest noted on, “You’ll be fine,” She said after a minute, and he froze. 

“I’m sorry?” He asked, formally like she asked to sit next to him on the bus or to squeeze past him in a store. 

“I said you’ll be just fine on your date with Maeve,” She reiterated, using a purple sharpie to start drawing the routes the victims took to work. 

Spencer sighed, shuffling papers around his desk, “How can you be so sure?” 

She looked at him then, properly looked at him and he felt his breath almost catch. He’d been telling another one of his half truth’s earlier, because he couldn’t very well say just how many night’s he’d thought about Bugsy being all over him, about kissing her and sweeping her off her feet, about squeezing her close to him in a passionate embrace and never letting her slip away again. He thought about all the times she professed how much she loved him and how good a friend he was to her, and how happy she made him, and how he had spent the first year of knowing her getting to know her for that big brain of hers that rivalled his own. 

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he couldn’t have her. He could have Maeve though. He could meet her and fall in love with her and marry her. He could do it. But she still wouldn’t be her. 

She smiled at him like she had a secret, one she was willing to share with him, one that came at a cost but she would give it to him anyway because it was him and she was so good to him and deserved so much better. 

“What’s not to like about you, Spencer?” She said softly, her expression that of a street dog looking for scraps.

He swore he shuddered when she said his name like that, but he tried a smile back at her anyway. But it was too late, she’d already turned away to continue plotting the points on the map. 

Spencer felt his chest swell in a way Maeve had never gotten it to do.

–

He felt stupid. Half an hour of primping himself in the BAU bathroom, worrying and fussing over what he was wearing and if his hair sat right and if his face looked too skinny, he had made it to the restaurant only to baulk at the last minute when he’d seen a guy in a booth flicking his head to look back at where he was sat in a window seat, a red rose potted in the middle of the table and an empty chair across from him. 

He had panicked and called Maeve, told her to go home because her stalker was there at the restaurant, and she had done just that with little to no question. Only for him to see, minutes later, the guy he thought was her stalker being approached by another guy and he realised he had likely been looking out the window to check for taxi’s parking outside the restaurant. 

Spencer had blown it, the one chance he had at meeting her in person, and he felt more like an idiot than ever. 

He didn’t care about the weird rift between them at that moment, he just wanted to see Bugsy, because she always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. Like she had a talent for it, even when he had not been the best friend himself. 

He knew he had to fix it, knew it didn’t matter if it was a little unethical to be on the cusp of having a girlfriend whilst also pining after his best friend, he didn’t care. He wanted to set things right with her just to have his best friend back. 

He walked up to her apartment complex, the excuse already brewing in his head that he missed Nico and Sergio, that he maybe missed her a whole lot too but he knew the cats were a sweetened deal way of getting him through the door. Because she would never say no to him seeing the boys. 

And then he would tell her, that he’d been an asshole the past few weeks, that he’d been struggling to understand how to balance time between her and his almost girlfriend, because that was a much better half truth than the fact he was trying to bury his feelings for her so deep they couldn’t see the light of day or else his life would be entirely ruined. 

That’s exactly what he would say.

Spencer felt a little better than he had leaving the restaurant knowing he’d messed up his chance. In all honesty, he was excited to have Bugsy back, even if his night wasn’t exactly going to plan. 

He waltzed up the stairs he’d been on a million times. She loved his apartment, she always said so, but he insisted her TV was bigger and so they usually stayed at hers to watch Dr Who when the newest episodes came out. 

Spencer hesitated for a second, hoping his plan worked before he rapped on the door with boney knuckles, his hand fingering the strap of his bag nervously as he heard her moving behind the door. 

“One second!” She called, and he chuckled, she had probably fallen asleep on the sofa without pants on, or maybe even just gotten out the shower, either way he heard her scrambling to get clothes on and then-

She swung the door open, and his eyes quickly dropped to her neck that had a long row of hickeys trailing down to her collar bone. His small smile at seeing her vanished like one of those magic tricks he liked to do, and he realised her lip gloss was smudged over her chin, her shirt definitely wasn’t her own and he didn’t actually think she had even bothered to put on underwear beneath the large band tee she’d clearly thrown on in the middle of passion. 

Bugsy looked like she’d seen a ghost. 

“Spencer!” She said, her voice choked up like she was exhausted, and he felt his stomach turn. He looked away from her, like he couldn’t stand to even look at her, “I thought you were with Maeve- yo-your date,”

“I had to cancel, it wasn’t safe,” He murmured, tugging the strap of the bag tighter around his shoulder. 

He felt like a complete loser. More than he ever had being shoved into lockers, being dipped into toilet water, being led around by the librarian and her damn butterscotch. 

Spencer felt like his chest was caving in, which he knew was fair on no one to admit, but it was true. 

“Are you okay?” She asked immediately, scanning him over for wounds, “Are you hurt- Is Maeve okay?”

He opened his mouth to reply when he heard foot steps and a hand appeared around her waist, tugging her into a muscled body as the door opened wider. 

“Who is it, babe?” A deep voice spoke, and Spencer felt his face go green when he saw the adonis of a man who stood behind her, his chest littered with smudged lip gloss and bruises resembling her own neck trailing down to his crotch. 

Her face was on fire when Spencer looked back at her, something betrayed in the hazel of his eyes which he knew was entirely illicit to feel in the circumstances, but it was true. 

“Fuck off, Renly,” She shoved him back behind the door, looking at Spencer like the friendship between them they were scrambling to salvage hung in the balance with whatever she said next. “You remember Renly, my lab partner at Johns,” 

Spencer nodded, the image of her lips on his pubic bone wouldn’t leave his mind, and he wondered what came after that, “I remember him,” 

She nodded back, and they went silent. 

They’d found themselves back at that stalemate. 

--

TAGLIST:

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist t @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

[kindestofkings]

espresso

lando norris x reader

dets: an international pop star and a f1 driver could never be secretly dating right? right?

authors note: this is kinda chaotic but its been still in my drafts since that damn espresso song came out, how is it so good?

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

yourusername

liked by ynfan1 and others

yourusername me laughing at all y'all trying to figure out who my hot songs are about LOOLLLLLL you'll know when I want you to know MWAH xx

melbourne tonight :)))

view all other comments

ynfan1 you are so unhinged I LOVE

charli_xcx just tell them its me !

yourusername you're right sorry wifey xx

ynfan2 wait are they still around??

ynfanupdates wait whats happening in melbourne tonight ???

ynfan3 she's so secretive, I didn't even know she was dating anyone

landonorris

liked by martingarrix and others

landonorris tralia mate

view all other comments

danielricciardo looking fresh mate

landonorris thanks babe xx f1fan1 landos longest relationship right here f1fan2 bahahah for real man is chronically single

oscarpiastri 👍👍

f1fan1 best of luck this weekend !

yourusername just posted to their close friends!

[caption: baby just had a great weekend at the office <3]

replies:

maxfewtrell disgustingly sweet

↳ jealousy is a disease, better get checked out xx

alexalbon ugh you two make me sick

↳ oh yeah and yourself and lily aren't worse 😐

yourusername

liked by martingarrix and others

yourusername missing tour hours, should we do it again??

view all other comments

ynfan1 PLEASE COME BACK

oliviarodrigo you never rest queen

yourusername lol duty calls ynfan1 huh? hasn't she been off for ages ? ynfan3 singers can have other responsibilities you do know that right

ynfan2 I just want to know who you're dating..

ynfanupdates

liked by ynfan1 and others

ynfanupdates yourusername out in monaco tonight !

view all other comments

ynfan1 huh wonder what has her in monaco? she's there alot recently

ynfan2 looooveee the orange

landofan1

liked by landoupdates and others

landofan1 firstly tell how is a man so hot?? also look at how much he's vibing to yourusername's feather remix??

view all other comments

landofan1 I could take him (not in a fight)

ynfan1 he is just like me fr

f1fan1 no WAY whats he doing playing yn? 👀

ynfan1 I mean she is one of the biggest pop singers in the world rn f1fan1 orrrrrrrr ynfan2 haha you wish

yourusername oooh whos he ?

landofan1 bahaahahha girl, you are everything I want my popstars to be

yourusername

liked by chapellroan and others

yourusername pookie is away (again) so heres some pics of me looking hot for pookie, and pookie only <3

view all other comments

ynfan1 what boyfriend would ever leave you??

yourusername I know right?? poor me !

chapellroan need a sub ?

yourusername I don't know what you're abbreviating but yes. yes please.

reneerapp god DAMN

(liked by yourusername)

f1fan1 hmmmmmmhmmm away? and theres a grand prix this weekend

lando.jpg

liked by ynfan1 and others

lando.jpg returning the favour x Race weekend was gud

view all other comments

landofan1 people died.

oscarpiastri such a poser

lando.jpg my lady loves it 🤷 landofan1 IS HE IN A RELATIONSHIP landofan2 since when wtf

f1fan1 I don't even care how delusional I am, he'd be so hot for yourusername

ynfan1 Ikr but they don't even follow each other :((

yourusername just posted to their story!

[caption: pookie has returned <3]

replies:

landonorris I don't know how I feel about pookie...

↳ but POOKIE I love it (and you)

↳ landonorris ugh okay fine (love you too)

charli_xcx this soft launch is mean, and I know who it is

↳ hehehhe lol its SO fun tho

f1fan1 is that papaya ?

yourusername just followed landonorris!

landonorris just followed yourusername!

yourusername

liked by landonorris

yourusername need a pick me up ?

Espresso 4/11 @ 8pm ET,

Music Video 4/12 @ 10:00am ET

view all other comments

ynfan1 woooo queen is back

ynfan2 LOVE the vibe of this

landofan1 is that the JOLLY ???

landofan2 do we think lando is in the video?? cause thats defo him!

landonorris uber rating ?

yourusername 4 stars out of 5 ! missing star is because you kept making me laugh during filming landonorris always knew being so funny was a double edged sword. georgerussell sorry just confirming, do you think YOU are the funny one? ynfan1 what a random friendship, but so cute

f1fan1 finally followed each other, my delusions don't feel so crazy

landofan1 I would loveee if they became friends

landonorris just added to their close friends!

[caption: we just hard launched via music video and people are thinking FRIEnDshIP ?]

replies:

yourusername babyyyy they're so stupid

↳ told you it's crazy you're dating me..

↳ yourusername UGH no enough of that

danielricardio the landonorizz lore is to deep I'm afraid..

lilyme cons of dating a hottie

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others

yourusername guys this is my POOKIE! I just hardlaunched my muse, y'all should be blessed !

(last pic is not mine but like look at how he looks at me teehee...)

tagged: landonorris

view all other comments

landonorris love of my life fuck

ynfan1 damn y'all are in love love aren't you

fan1 this is crazy to me lando and THE pop it girl??

yourusername me and THE lando norris who is a professional hottie and my pookie xx landofan1 ugh im obsessed with you two

ynfan1 you're telling me you've been dating another celebrity for at least 3 years and we've seen ZERO pap pics?

f1fan1 for real tho we would've seen her at a grand prix, theres thousands of cameras landofan1 yeah seems suss yourusername ugh guys !!! why are you making me spell everything out for you landonorris time to cook darling

mclaren finally the parents are insta official

yourusername get hyped to see me at a gp wigless xxx

ynfan1 you wear wigs??

yourusername have you worn wigs?? landonorris will you wear wigs??? ynfan1 omfg I get it now

landonorris

liked by yourusername and others

landonorris meet my three year pr relationship x

tagged: yourusername

view all other comments

yourusername yes sorry guys the warming climate is all our fault !! just so fucking hot we cant help it eek

oscarpiastri you two are so unbearable already please go back to being a secret landonorris after 3 years of norizz jokes, I thinkkkk no !

landofan1 THREE yEaRs ???

mclaren wearing papaya off season? oh shes a keeper

ynfan1 heheh admin gets it

danielricciardo rip norizz it was fun while it lasted..

landonorris fun for WHO??

[finished]

hehe im working lateeee, cause I procrastinated doing assignments all day xx

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic #smau

[enwoso]

PUPPY LOVE — alessia russo

*i don’t want anyone to think i haven’t forgotten about anyone’s request, i’ve started/planned all those that have been sent in and i’m slowly getting through them, and some should be posted by the end of the week! but thank you for the support on my last fics. i love and appreciate you all<33*

navigation

you loved your birthday.

some people you knew hated the thought of being born in january, as they saw it as a depressing and cold month. the fact it was right after christmas and all the festivities had died down. but you, you loved it.

after christmas and new year it gave you something to be excited for. having your birthday in the first week of january wasn't all too bad, christmas lights still lingered in the streets as well as small hints of christmas left behind. it all brought a huge smile to your face.

the sun peering though the crack in the curtains as alessia laid draped over you, her arm stretched across your body as her face was hidden in your neck. not wanting to disturb the blonde, you lay looking at the ceiling as your fingers rubbed through her hair.

not long after the blonde began to stir, moving a little as her face became a little more clear as a smile appeared on your face. brushing the loose blonde hairs that had escaped her low bun she had slept in, out of her face.

her head moving a little so you could not see her and the small smile that was on her lips, "happy birthday, tesoro" she mumbled her eyes still shut as she placed a gentle and sleep kiss on you neck. "i love you"

"thank you, lessi. i love you too" you turned to move the blonde so that you were both now facing each other instead of her lying on top of you, a few grumbles coming from the blonde as you moved her that she was already comfy.

looking at her, her eyes just beginning to open slightly as she rubbed them as they adjusted to the light that was beaming into the room. grinning as she pulled you closer back into her embrace, the tips of your noses touching.

a few moments of silence happen, before you close the gap. attaching your lips to the blondes. it was slow and soft the kiss, full of love. her hands found your waist, her fingertips warm as they drew tiny little circle on your hips. pulling away, not before pecking your lips a few more times making you giggle as she smiled.

"hope your ready for today to be all about you?" she whispered as your eyebrows raised, she had been telling you that she had been planning your birthday for weeks but unfortunately for you, you hadn't been able to drag out of her what she had planned.

usually you could push a few buttons and the blonde would crack, telling you her plans but this time she had been determined to keep it a secret making you even more curious about what she had planned.

"mhm and what does that entail?" you asked, as the blonde just smiled not saying a word instead kissing your cheek and pulling the covers off her. grabbing her phone from the bedside table leaving the bed cold as she reached the doorway.

"you just have a shower, get ready and when you come down all will be revealed" she sung out as you narrowed your eyes.

"i don't like all this secrecy from you russo!"

after having a nice slow get ready, you were finally making your way down the stairs, voices getting louder with each step you took. reaching the bottom to see the whole of your lounge decorated, balloons scattering the floor and a big happy birthday sign on the wall with a balloon arch going over the top of it.

being in shock of how much effort had gone into the decoration of the room, you hadn't even processed the fact that alessia's family and your family were sitting in the living room.

"happy birthday teeny! gio yelled, hearing alessia's parents and yours say it too but his standing out and being the loudest pulling you out from your day dream.

the nickname coming from your height difference not only from him but also your girlfriend. you being a few inches small then her.

"how long did this even take you to do?" you asked the blonde as she came over, flapping her brother on the way for the teasing comment as she wrapped you up in a hug. "oh i did this last night after you had gone to sleep!" she whispered in your ear.

"you look beautiful by the way" she kissed your cheek pulling away from the hug, as you went over to your parents saying your hellos to them as well as alessia's parents and brothers.

falling into conversation, as well as eating breakfast that your parents had brought for you. the morning going off to a lovely start surrounded by the people you love as you moved onto opening your presents as you were beginning to get bored of listening to giorgio ask when you were going to open them.

the younger russo brother insisting that you opened the one of him and luca first, it being a bottle of perfume which you had been wanting for some time, "woah, you guys shouldn't have" you sat with the box in your hand, standing up to hug the two of them in thanks.

"we had a little help from someone on which one to buy" luca said flashing a smile to alessia as you grinned.

"thank you!

moving onto your parents who had gotten you tickets to see a concert in london that you had been wanting to go to and alessia's parents getting you a weekend spa trip away, for you and alessia to enjoy one weekend when you both were off.

which left alessia who passed you a bag, moving the tissue paper from the top - revealing a small white bag and inside was a jewellery box. opening it there was a small dainty bracelet with a heart charm dangling from it. "here, look it has my initials on it and the. there's yours" your girlfriend pointed to the two letters AR and then to yours which was right next to hers.

"oh lessi you shouldn't have" you pouted, leaning over to wrap her in a hug, pecking her lips a few times as you pulled back from the hug. before wrapping her in a tighter hug.

"thank you lessi" you whispered as you hugged her, awhs being heard around the room from both familys. the blonde smiling, kissing you cheek a few times before you let go.

"i have one more thing for you.." alessia grinned as she reached down beside where she was sat, getting a small round box out that had a pretty bow on it. your brows furrowed as you looked down admiring the gifts the blonde had already gotten you wondering what more could you need from her. "here" the blonde said handing you the small round gift box.

opening the box left you even more confused, a small bright green fuzzy tennis ball - smaller than your regular tennis ball. you looked to the blonde who was sitting next to you a nervous laugh escaping you.

"i know i said i wanted a new hobby but- we, we both know i'm rubbish at sports!" you giggled not really understanding the gift looking at the russo brothers and her parents for any sort of hint of what the gift meant.

"it's not for you silly!" alessia was the one to laugh this time, leaving you to try and follow along with the riddles, "then who?" you hesitantly laughed, as the blonde stood up not saying a word and leaving the room coming back seconds later.

"for this little one!" alessia beamed, in her arms a small dark brown puppy. you sat in shock, no words could be found as the happy tears began to well in your eyes. as the blonde got closer, she placed the small puppy in your arms a red blanket covering it too keep it warm.

"no way- is this ours.. to keep?" you stuttered, your voice betraying you as you tried not to let the tears spill.

"of course, he's our little fur baby" alessia grinned as she sat next to you in her original seat, stroking the puppy on the head as you sat in utter awh.

you had been pestering the blonde for months now, about getting a dog. spending countless hours during a night time trying to convince her why having a dog would be a good idea but the answer was always, 'we both don't have time for a dog'

you had even got as far as one time drawing up a schedule of how a dog would fit into your schedule to show the blonde that it was possible to have a little puppy in your life but the answer was always the same.

"what you gonna call him then?" gio yelled over, as you looked up from your little fur baby. thought taking over you, "snoopy." you nodded out loud as everyone looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"yeah, snoopy. he suits it" you said, it sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself but also everyone in the room. "snoopy it is then!" alessia confirmed, smiling at you who was looking down at the puppy with so much love.

the rest of the day was spent with you having snoopy in your arms or cuddling with the little puppy or watching him as he napped making sure that he wasn't woken.

the two of you had bonded for life, he was your little child. that evening was spent with you cuddling with less as you watched a film she had let you pick as you cuddled with snoopy however both you and snoopy fell asleep within the first five minutes.

and there was no better way to end a perfect birthday.

liked by bethmead and 820,741 others

alessia if i ever loose them both, at least i know if i find one i’ll find the other cause there never apart!

comments -

bethmead a new friend for myle!

-> alessia can’t wait to introduce them🥹

ellatoone y/n finally got you to cave then?

-> alessia she did, love our little man snoopy!!

-> yourusername best birthday present ever!

#woso #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal women #awfc #arsenal wfc #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #arsenal #lionesses #ella toone #england #beth mead #enwoso

[pathologicalreid]

don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.  

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #written by margot #mdni #margot after hours #softdom!spencer #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 63

part 1 | part 62 | tumblr masterlist | ao3

cw: references to canonical horror. short update today while i restructure some stuff in the next scene <3

“I’m staying with him,” Steve says, toeing a weed in the soft soil. Testing the give. Thinks maybe he’ll be doing that for the rest of his life. 

“Uh,” Robin objects. They’re at the top of the hill again, halfway to the car — everyone but Eddie, who refused to leave the boathouse after telling them in horrific detail how a cheerleader floated up to the ceiling and popped like a cheap balloon, and whose pale, frightened face Steve can see staring at them through a grimy window, two black dots hardly daring to blink. 

“Steve.”

“Huh?” 

Max calls him a total space-case.

Robin groans up at the sky. "As much as we would all love to have a spooky sleepover with you two under a tarp—”

“Mm, would we love that?” Dustin wonders. 

“—I'm not so sure our parents would be too thrilled about us not coming home when there's a freaky evil killer magician on the loose!"

Max snorts at that; mutters under her breath. “My mom probably wouldn’t mind.”

Dustin whines, “Mine would!”

Three people turn in unison to lay into him for being a dick, but he’s already holding up his hands in surrender, cringing so hard it folds his face like crumpled paper. “Sorry,” he winces. “Sorry. That was rude.”

“Yep,” Max agrees with a flat smack of her lips.

Eddie's still waiting by the window.

Steve just nods at them — arms folded, shoulders broad. "Dustin’s right.” He turns to Robin. “You both are.”

“Thank you,” she sighs, the sound long and airy, sweet with relief that he's seen reason.

She takes a wide step toward the car.

Steve says, “Which is why I'm staying here, and you're all going home."

Her foot falls back down to the ground; legs stretched in a standing split, shoes slipping on wet grass. “Oh, my god." This sigh is sour. "Oh, my god, of course you are.”

“We’re not leaving you,” says Dustin.

“Wasn’t asking,” Steve replies.

Robin lets out a strangled noise of frustration and shimmies herself upright. "Steve, please!" She marches over. "I know you’re all” —her hands come up around her head, voice warbling; wooOoo-ooh— “about your boyfriend-slash-not-boyfriend-slash-whatever being in danger, and I get that, babe, I really do, but I don't! Know how! To drive!"

Steve turns to Max. 

She’s looking right at them, mouth pinched in a flat line over the laugh she's holding back. Restrained as ever, but Steve can see the glimmer of excitement at the edge of her expression — the subtle twitch of her nostrils, the muscle jumping in her jaw. 

I've driven it before. 

"...Do not," he warns as he presses his keys into her palm; closes her fist around the metal, "fuck this up."

—

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

[starkeyisthelastname]

shower sex with stepbro!rafe??

You hummed to yourself, your pink loofah in hand as you scrubbed down your naked body with the vanilla scented body wash. Your eyes had been closed, enjoying the hot steam and tune in your head. So when you opened them back up to grab your favorite scrub, you nearly jumped at the sight of your step-brother.

“Rafe!” You shrieked, heart startled as he smirked at you in all his naked glory. “What are you doing in here?” You asked, voice going softer as your cunt automatically clenched around nothing.

“Just making sure you are getting yourself all nice and clean.” Rafe told you, closing the glass door to the shower. He knew he was being perverted, but didn’t give a damn. He had been teaching you all sorts of things your naive little self didn’t know, and had been balls deep in your fuckin perfect pussy for the first time just a few nights ago. And fuck.. did he need it again.

“I know how to wash myself Rafe.” You told him with a roll to your eyes, only to glance down at your older step-brother’s huge dick. You had only had it once but had been missing it ever since.

Of course he was intimidating, especially with the way he stepped toward you, backing you up against the tile wall. “Yeah?” He asked, curtain bangs falling in his face as he watched you cower.

It didn’t take much for him to spin you around, pressing your face against the wall as he slid into you from behind. You let out a small whimper, his huge length filling you up in one go.

“Yeah-there she is.” He groaned, feeling your cunt wrap around him in a vice grip. His massive hand came up to hold your head still, toned hips beginning to thrust into your sopping hole.

You squeaked out a moan, manicured nails digging into the tile uselessly as you tried to grab a hold of anything. He was huge and the way he sheathed inside of you had you wanting to scream. But, of course all that left your mouth was pathetic whines and whimpers as you were now getting destroyed once again by your step-brother.

Rafe’s eyes flashed dark the more you came undone around him, the way he was ruining you just by telling you he was “teaching” you things had his mind going wild. He loved every second of corrupting your sweet little self all with some dick.

“Good girl.. you just love getting fucked now, don’t you?” His voice low in your ear as he continued to press your face into the wall.

You could already feel that funny feeling coming to your lower gut, your words now rambled together making you sound like a cock drunk idiot. You nodded the best you could, the tight grip on the back of your head making it difficult. Your cunt clenched around his fat length, a silent cry leaving your mouth as you came around him.

Rafe grunted at the way you squeezed around him, the tightest fucking pussy he ever had and only ever wanted after this. He yanked your head back, hand wrapping around the front of your throat. “Cumming already, slut? We aren’t fucking done until I have nutted in this perfect cunt.” He spat at you, ringed hand only squeezing your neck harder. Of all people his step-sister is the one who turned him the fuck on.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #stepbro!rafe #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #obx #obx smut

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hi! I would love to request some cuddling scenarios with Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox!

SOFT MOMENT OF NON SEXUAL INTIMACY?! IN THIS HOUSE?! Yes, please!

It's implied romantic but could be queer platonic or a queer/nontraditional couple.

Lucifer

This man wants snuggles. Any way he can get them any time, he isn't required to not be physically attached to you. He really struggles with derealization/depersonalization. His depression gets bad, he isolates, and time has pretty much lost meaning to him after being around so long, so he just kinda, wastes away into sadness. It's how he and Charlie fell apart the first time, and he really doesn't want it to happen again.

Having you around to just talk to, hold hands with, sit on your lap, or you in his, it helps. It's like a reminder that he's still alive and someone wants to be around him. Someone wants to spend time with him. That you care. It also motivates him to stay in contact with Charlie instead of convincing himself she's better without him.

He still loves Lillith, regrets they aren't together, but he doesn't blame her for leaving. He's more upset with how it affects Charlie. So he makes extra effort to spend time with you, to acknowledge how important you are to him. He's so paranoid about ruining this relationship. This man has centuries of being told everything is his fault, everything wrong with the world, and is forced to face that supposed truth every day he rules Hell.

His favorite thing is just pulling you on top of him like a weighted blanket, wrapping his wings around the both of you, and laying in a dark, warm, cocoon. He'll take deep breaths, pet your hair, and just let himself finally relax. The first few times you'd stayed quiet, assuming that's what he wanted, but it just makes it easier for him to disassociate.

Now you talk to him, softly, about your day, ask about his. You slowly get him to open up about his favorite things, good memories he has of Lillith, baby Charlie, the sins, times before the Fall. It's a long process to get him to talk about it. Please be patient and gentle with him. He likes when you play with his fingers while he talks, just holding his hand and twisting and turning it, moving his rings around, just don't touch his wedding ring please, maybe you even manage to do his nails in this position.

His second favorite is when you help preen his feathers, gently massaging his wing joints, polishing each feather with the oil from his glands, using your thumbs to work out knots in the muscles around the base. It always turns into a full back massage that leaves him purring, making happy sighing sounds and little moans. He usually falls asleep like this. Don't worry though, once he wakes up, he's definitely returning the favor. He does head massages too! He prepares a little personal spa day for you.

He isn't really looking for anything more intimate when he's in one of sadder moods and is cuddling with you to feel better, he wouldn’t turn it down, he's too afraid you'd be upset, but he really just wants to be held or to hold someone. It's the little things that really make you special to him, and he cherishes every second you guys are together.

Alastor

We all know Alastor isn't a fan of being touched unless he initiates it. There are very few exceptions to this, so you have to be pretty close to him to even get the option to cuddle him.

You'll have to start slow, like holding his hand. A lot of people think he's the type to not want to do too much PDA, but like, look at how he is with Rosie and Mimzy in front of everyone. He doesn't care. Not for small things like hand holding. This eventually leads to him putting his arm around your waist as you're walking together, or around your shoulders if you're sitting next to each other so you can lean on his shoulder.

Now more intimate gestures, like cheek kisses, forehead kisses, petting his ears, those are private. He will resist at first, preferring to lavish you with attention, but be stubborn, match his energy, especially the witty banter, and eventually you'll wear him down.

It's canon that Alastor's hardly ever sleeps, so I imagine if you're a motherly type, (regardless of gender), or someone he genuinely trusts (because its not about if he's safe. He's the Radio Demon, very few sinners are a threat to him, so being a little vulnerable with you is safe no matter the level of trust) he's going to pass out.

You're in his room (or yours, but he prefers his) and he agreed to let you pet his ears. You settle on the bed, his head on your chest or lap, and he closes his eyes, soft jazz music playing from some unseen source, and maybe you're watching something on your phone, (he allows it only if it's something he can enjoy as well, but he usually winds up listening more than watching because screens hurt his eyes after awhile) more likely you're listening to a podcast, Alastor likes listening to true crime with you.

Your fingers gently run through his hair at first. You tease him about the bob sometimes, but understand that he's prone to pulling his hair out otherwise. Eventually you notice the music has stopped and Alastor's fast asleep, the smile on his face is so small it nearly doesn't exist, and his breathing is slow and even. His ears twitch when you stop petting them, and he stirs a bit, so you quickly resume playing with them and he falls back asleep.

(His tail is sensitive too, if you ever wanna fluster him, just run a finger down his spine to that cute little tail and give it a gentle tug.)

Alastor is also prone to play biting, so if you're an excited nibbler who gives noms, expect your cuddles to end up with a few bite marks.

Vox

It's really hard for him to sit still long, so if he's working late and you want to spend time with him, just crawl yourself into his lap and get comfy. He'll grumble and complain about the distraction, but it's all for show. He'll put his arm around your waist and trace your hipbones with his thumb, or play with your hair, run his fingers up and down your back, just small fidgety things.

He understands his head is inconvenient for snuggles, and he may not be the most comfortable. (I headcanon his body is built like the Detroit Become Human bots, with like silicone padding to appear/feel like skin, but it's hard plastic and metal and wires underneath with biomechanical parts inside.)

He is warm, though, and has the constant hum of his internal fans and electricity, so he's great for sensory snuggles. He's great for when you're sore or have migraines (surprisingly, but he can turn his brightness down at will). He likes to do more traditional forms of PDA.

He walks with his hand on your lower back. (He and Alastor both absolutely do the subconscious walk with their partners on the inside and them closest to the streets or alleyways. Lucifer would, but he probably isn't even aware it's a thing.)

You're cooking/baking/doing anything with your back to him, he puts his hands on your waist and leans against you. He's 7ft tall so he probably won't lean his entire body on you, but enough to feel close to you.

His favorite snuggles are disgustingly domestic. Like, his all time favorite, is when you're both sitting together on a couch, enjoying a movie or show, or maybe you're reading or on your phone or gaming, and he's working, just anytime you're occupying the couch together and existing, he'll pull your feet into his lap and massage them.

It's not like, a fetish thing, he just thinks it's sweet. A nice gesture to show how much he appreciates what you do, how hard you work. He'll massage your ankles and calfs too. He's also prone to trying to play with your hair and massage your scalp when you're laying on his chest at night, but his claws get tangled easily. Settles for rubbing your shoulders/back.

He likes when you rub his back and neck too. The man spends way too much time hunched over his desk at work. His back aches from doing the gremlin hunch over his desk to standing ramrod straight in front of cameras, sitting properly and confidently, stiff as a fucking board. You once teased him about how he could just use one of his cardboard cutouts as a stand-in, and no one would know.

Other times, he likes to lay on you. The first few times he sprawled across your lap seeking affection and reassurance for his fragile ego, you'd been so nervous to crack his screen. But now you're more used to it and will even playfully try and poke it/tap it. Between you and Valentino, Vox has had to rule out ever getting a touch screen for a head, because neither of you will stop fucking with it. It does make him laugh, though, adorable little giggles he'd rather die than let the general public hear. It usually turns into a playful wrestling match and aggressive cuddles with a side of petty static electricity from Vox.

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader

[lowgothree]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ❜

chapter no. 001!          

𝗈𝗈𝗈.               ⠀CONTENT : paige “with” another girl (for the plot). reader is so terribly down bad. also, i don’t proofread so if you see typos or grammar mistakes i’m sorry. and this chapter is kinda boring but it's necessary soo.

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 1.5k

𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : yall seemed to like the prologue so i hope yall like this too!!

THEY’RE KISSING. and she’s enjoying it, by the looks of it. you can tell because she’s doing that thing where she pulls the other person closer like they could never be close enough. the thing she used to do to you. 

it’s almost comical that the first time you see paige again, she’s kissing some other girl with eyes like yours outside the diner where you and the girls were. she thinks she’s being sneaky (she’s not). she always thought she was sneaky, you remember that much. in fact, you somehow remember everything about the blonde except what her lips tasted like. so of course you’re a little jealous, feeling a bit out of the loop. that’s normal. right? and maybe definitely it’s stupid to mourn so deeply over a relationship that you ended but, whatever, you can’t help that you miss her.

there was nothing human about the feeling, it was more like a typhoon or a volcanic eruption, something so completely out of your control. it was purely sickening…but whenever you see the peroxide-blonde with someone new, you  find yourself apprehensively scanning their hair, their skin, the words that they would say –– always finding a hint of yourself within them. the delusional part of you wanted that to mean she still wanted you, but logic said that maybe she just started having a type. but then you’d think back to before…the paige before you never had a specific type. but since you? there’s an unmistakable one. but that’s not enough proof that she still feels for you. in fact, it’s nothing. it’s hard not to see yourself when you’re actively looking for it. you’d keep up with the torture by staring at paige kissing that girl through the window but then you feel a sharp kick to your shin from underneath the table. 

“stop staring, perv.” nika mutters, rolling her eyes lightly. although nika was one of the few people who knew about the dead relationship, she didn’t know that your feelings for paige still lingered. she only knew what paige told her, that the two of you were friends.

“i wasn’t ––”

“you were.”

okay –– maybe you were. you sigh silently to yourself, taking a sip of your milkshake. this is the first time you’re actually hanging out with your friends together rather than just one on one (which you only did because you didn’t want to see paige). the two of you agreed to be friends but that was clearly not going to happen. however, you felt bad for denying your friends every time they asked to spend time with you. so, you sucked up your pride. you could spend an hour in paige’s presence, it wouldn’t kill you. at least not literally.

angel, a redhead who shares a dorm with nika and a major with you, is sitting in between azzi and you. she’s eyeing you carefully, after all, the two of you are very close and she knows why you and paige broke up. she also knows that you still care about her. her gaze is simultaneously suffocating and protective.

“...are you okay?” she whispers only loud enough for you to hear. you simply nod, munching on your fries trying not to look out of the window again. in truth, your head was spinning. you haven’t seen paige face to face since the breakup. you were hoping you’d never have to again…

then she finally enters, walking up to the booth. every step she takes is just as confident as they always are. her hair is down, running across the length of her back. her eyes meet yours, they’re more familiar than your own name. her beauty is still unquestionable –– but you wouldn’t admit it. it would make looking away from her even more difficult. so instead you pretend not to look as she sits down at the booth right next to nika…right in front of you. she pokes nika’s side just to piss her off  before snatching a fry from angel’s plate and dipping it in her own milkshake. angel rolls her eyes but says nothing.

“that’s disgusting.” nika turns up her nose as paige bites it. 

“don’t knock it till you try it.” paige dramatically licks her fingers. nika makes a fist, gently hitting the table a few times with her knuckles. you chuckle at nika’s attitude.

“what are you giggling about? you used to like it too.” paige mutters, smiling lightly but her words send a pang to your chest. nobody else seems to catch the bitterness in her tone….but you do. her eyes look almost guilty when she sees the sharp intake of breath you take. but before she could say anything else, you look away. you avoid her eye contact like it’s deadly.

nika clears her throat, eventually sensing the tension, and turns her attention to azzi whose eyes are close and head is rested against the booth. “you okay?”

“mhm…just really tired.” she mutters, opening her eyes to sip her lemonade. 

you chuckle. “i bet you are, we stayed up all last night studying.”

“finals?” angel questions.

“yeah…” azzi mumbles.

“can we please not talk about that right now?” paige groans.

“says you, scholar athlete.” azzi mutters, rolling her eyes at the blonde.

“she’s too busy with that girl to focus on studying these days.” nika chuckles. angel looks over at you for a quick moment but you keep your gaze steady on your plate.

you nearly jump out of your skin trying to relax your tensing shoulders before someone notices. you ended things with her…she couldn’t even call you her girlfriend. so why did it hurt so much to even hear of someone else in your place? this wasn’t exactly the plan, you were meant to move on by now. but seeing her…again…all you can wonder is what she’s thinking about right now.

“who? cleo?” paige snorts. “we’re not talking about that either.”

cleo. cleo. the girl who just had her tongue down paige’s throat no less than ten minutes ago. you feel sick to your stomach at the mention but you hide it well, then you feel sicker when you think about how pathetic it is that you even felt this way to begin with. it’s just another indignity among many.

“why not?” nika mutters. “it’s more interesting than talking about studying.”

“true.” azzi adds.

paige looks over at you, her way of saying that she’s not going to talk about another girl in front of you. “where’s aubrey?” 

you appreciate the conversation shift even if you know it’s in vain. they want to know about this mystery girl and honestly, so do you.

“late.” nika mutters.

“i ordered her food for her.” angel smiles softly. 

“and she’s gonna wanna talk about the girl too.” azzi chuckles. angel’s leg shakes underneath the table, she’s clearly empathetic for you. she knows the girls don’t mean to hurt you but she also knows that it is hurting you. you wanted to relax her, make her feel less guilty for not saying anything even if she wasn’t participating in the conversation.

so you chuckle lightly, pretending to be completely fine and say, “can you please be still?”

“can you please be still?” you sigh softly, braiding her hair in its signature style. paige is sitting in front of you on the bed with her legs crossed. she has a game later, and she asked you to braid her hair for her. 

“you’re pretty.” paige mumbles as you finish up her first braid, still squirming at your touch. 

for a second you almost forget yourself, paige being damn near sickeningly sweet. she seems to notice how her words have temporarily struck you, pride swelling within her since she loves making you happy. 

you shrug it off and remember that her back is facing you, so you chuckle at her commenting on your appearance. “you can’t even see me.”

“i don’t have to. i’m thinking about how your face looks right now.” she turns back to look at you over her shoulder. “pretty.”

you bite back a smile, turning her head back so you can braid the other side. “you’re corny, you know that?”

“i’m enamored.”

“oh, someone learned a new word.” you snort, continuing braiding her hair, being as gentle as you can with her. (though it gets increasingly difficult when she won’t stop moving).

“shut up.” she mutters. “i’m super smart.”

you finish braiding her hair, tapping her side to let her know that you’re done and she can go look. she stands up from the bed, long legs taking her to the dresser which has a mirror over it, she eyes her braids carefully. “they’re a little crooked, babe.”

you roll your eyes. “cause you wouldn’t stop mo––”

she turns back your way, walking back to you. paige towers over you while you sit on the bed, she puts a hand under your chin and kisses you. “i’m joking. they’re perfect. thank you, baby.”

“anything for you…” you whisper back and your words make her smile. it’s wide and toothy –– the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

#anything but you ✹ꯣ #paige bueckers x reader

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "helloooo! can you write something about reader suspecting paige and azzi’s friendship to be more than a friendship (r and paige are a situationship or sum like that) and just paige reassuring her and saying that she has eyes only for her etc… (paige is literally obsessed with r)? thank you so much 💖💖💖💖💖"

─ word count | 1.3k

─ warnings | hurt to comfort, paige being sassy, reassurance and so much cute fluffy, a singular kiss

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOU AND PAIGE had been friends for a while now, but it was just recently you'd been friends... and a little more.

It was something new, something fun and something secret. The only person who knows was KK only because she'd walked in on the two of you kissing, and now she swears she's "traumatized."

The secret relationship (of some sorts) between you and Paige added an exhilarating edge to your friendship. It was a thrill, the stolen glances, the secretive rendezvous, the whispered conversations laden with double meanings. You found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that went beyond friendship, yet you both reveled in the secretive nature of your relationship.

KK's discovery of your secret sent a ripple of panic through both of you at first. But unsurprisingly, she was more supportive than expected, despite her initial shock. After the initial awkwardness wore off, she became your confidante, the one person you could trust with your affair. She teased you both mercilessly, of course, but it was all in good fun.

But beneath the excitement, there was also a hint of panic. Keeping your newfound romance a secret added an element of danger, a thrill that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The fear of being discovered lurked in the background, heightening every stolen moment and making each encounter feel all all the more precious.

Yet despite the risks, the connection between you and Paige only seemed to grow stronger. The shared laughter, the stolen kisses, the quiet moments of intimacy — they all served to deepen the bond between you, creating a private world that was uniquely yours.

But of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing.

──

"What do you mean?" Paige's tone had an annoyed edge to it as she sent you a glance. She pulled off a side of her headphones as she kept her eyes glued on the computer screen.

You sighed exasperatedly, sitting up on her bed as you sent her a glare. "What do you think I mean?"

Paige hated when you spoke like that, so secretive and cryptic, like you wanted her to say the wrong thing. She liked things laid out plain and simple, while you preferred to dance around topics, especially ones that felt too vulnerable.

"I don't know, that's why I asked." Paige's voice didn't soften as she spoke, her eyes glancing at you every once in a while. She just had the most tiring practices and the last thing she wanted to do was argue with you.

You huffed, feeling frustrated. "I feel like Azzi has a crush on you or something. I see the way she looks at you, it's like when I look at you — all heart eyes, and shit."

Paige's lips curved into a smirk. "Aww, are you saying you have heart eyes for me?"

"I'm being serious, P." You were frustrated. You hated when you felt insecure, especially in relationships. While Paige never gave you any reason to doubt her, she was just naturally enticing and that's what pulled you to her in the first place.

But that's also why others were so captivated by her. The looks she gets, the way people spoke about her and now the whole TikTok obsession wasn't helping. You hated it — you wanted everyone to know that she was yours, and vice versa.

"Okay, okay." Paige's expression was still very much amused as she glanced toward you. "You know me and Azzi are just friends, we're just really close. I promise you, I'd know if she had a crush on me."

"I have eyes, Paige." You shot back, frustration bubbling in your voice.

You couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity gnawing at you, no matter how much you trusted Paige. The thought of someone else vying for her attention filled you with a sense of unease that you couldn't shake. You also knew that there was still that boundary, you weren't her girlfriend and had no valid reason for you to be jealous.

Paige's eyes widened at your tone. You never called her just by her name, it was some kind of nickname or pet name. She sighed as she pulled her headset off and set it down, turning to face you.

"Hey," Paige began gently, reaching out to take your hand in hers. "You have to believe me when I say there's nothing going on between me and Azzi. She's just a really good friend and she's not into me, and even if she is,"

She paused as she shook her head in amusement at the mere thought. "I don't want her, I want you."

You sighed, still feeling frustrated. "I want to believe you, P. I really do. But it's hard, you know? Seeing how close you two are, and... and knowing that I don't have any claim over you."

She squeezed your hand reassuringly, offering you a small smile. "I know it's not easy, especially when we haven't defined what we are yet. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."

You looked up, meeting her gaze, searching for any sign of deceit. But all you found was sincerity in her eyes.

"I care about you, more than I can put into words," Paige continued softly. "And I want you to feel secure in what we have, even if it's not official. You mean a lot to me."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at Paige's words. Despite your doubts, her sincerity shone through, washing away some of your insecurities. Her hand in yours felt warm and comforting, grounding you in the present as you allowed yourself to bask in the affection she offered.

"I trust you, Paige," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And I care about you too, a lot."

"Besides," Paige continued, her tone playful as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Who needs Azzi when I've got you? You're the one I can't stop thinking about, the one who drives me crazy in the best possible way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, feeling a rush of affection for the girl sitting beside you. As you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, Paige's expression shifted, a teasing glint entering her eyes.

"And uh, speaking of claims," she began, her tone teasing as she traced a finger along your jawline. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Can't seem to get you out of my head."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about?"

Paige leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, "Just how lucky I am to have you in my life. And how much I want to make you mine, officially."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, warmth spreading through you at the intensity of her gaze. In that moment, any lingering doubts melted away, leaving only the affection you'd felt for Paige.

"But not right now 'cus this isn't as romantic as I want," she continued as you scoffed playfully. You leaned away slightly only to be pulled back by the blonde.

Paige's playful smirk widened as she pulled you back towards her. "Hey, don't pout. I promise when the time comes, it'll be unforgettable."

"So, you're really going to make me wait?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned into her touch.

Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I want it to be perfect, baby. But for now," she added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, "just know that I'm all yours."

The warmth of her lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire within you. "I'll hold you to that," you murmured against her lips, feeling a surge of affection for the woman in front of you.

Paige smiled against your lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #ncaaw #uconn huskies #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb

[freelancearsonist]

the mark they saw on my collarbone

➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader // series masterlist

➔ 4.4k words

➔ Joel’s instincts kick in when he runs into an omega in trouble along a smuggling route.

➔ Rated MA // a/b/o dynamics and the associated gender politics (alpha!joel and omega!reader), heavy dom/sub dynamics, unprotected piv sex, creampie, fingering, oral (reader receiving), biting/marking, blood, size kink, joel calls reader little one/little thing, mention of reader being food-insecure, alpha!tommy and alpha!tess are here briefly. takes place one year post-outbreak.

➔ this reader insert character: has female anatomy, no pronouns used, is generally able-bodied, is mentioned to be smaller/shorter than joel and can fit into his jacket, is otherwise a blank slate.

Tess’s face perks up halfway over a fallen tree–she stops in her tracks to tilt her nose into the wind. “You smell that?”

Of course Joel smells it. His senses were alerted to it about half a mile ago; he’s always had the better nose. He’s been trying to ignore it, however. There’s no point to giving into temptation in this shattered world, no matter how sweet the scent.

“Whew,” Tommy huffs, wrinkling his nose at the heavy pheromones that now drift around the trio. “Whoever it is, they’re closer than comfortable.”

“Smells like they’re in trouble,” Tess posits–always the thoughtful one. Always wanting to have faith in humanity, no matter how many reasons the last year has given her to lose hope. “That’s an omega. If not in full out heat, then damn near close to it.”

“Ain’t no way there’s an omega out on their own in these woods,” Joel growls. “It’s a trap.”

Tess shoots him a look–worried, stern. “What if it’s not?”

“It is.” He doesn’t even entertain the idea. There’s no way anything is left untainted in this world.

But with every step forward, the scent gets stronger and Joel’s resolve grows weaker. Your scent is so sweet. It reminds him of springtime in Austin, the little yellow sour grass buds and picnics in the park with…

The scar on his temple gives a single little throb, and he forces himself to focus up. They’ve got a clear destination, a contact to meet outside the Atlanta QZ. He needs to keep his head in the game and out of the past. Dwelling on that, on what the world was merely a year ago, is fucking pointless. No matter how much he hopes, how much he dreams, how much he begs and pleads to a god he never really believed in to begin with, nothing brings her back.

The scent makes his stomach churn the stronger it gets. It’s not like any omega he’s ever known before. They’ve all been… a little bitter. Or maybe his ex just left a tainted trace in his nose, spoiled it for everyone else. He’s never needed a partner to feel complete, anyway. Being a father is what gives him purpose. Gave him purpose.

He pushes that train of thought from mind, sets his jaw, and marches on.

The funny thing is, they’ve spent a lot of time in these woods–Tess, Tommy, and him. For as close to the QZ as it is, they’ve never met a single other soul in these parts.

That’s why, when Joel senses your pheromones only getting stronger as they forge on, he thinks about saying something. They’re headed straight towards you, into what must be a trap. The Atlanta QZ doesn’t take omegas; there’s no reason one should be so close. If he was smart, he’d make sure that the group avoids you at all costs. But there’s a deep, primal part of him that forces him to keep his mouth shut just as he’s about to open it and suggest rerouting their journey. He wants to investigate, to find out if you’re really as sweet as you smell.

He can tell Tommy and Tess are thinking along the same lines, and it makes his teeth grit together, eyes pinched in frustration. There’s an underlying possessiveness in every further stride he takes, eyes boring into the backs of his pack members’ heads while he takes position at the rear of the group.

This is why people used to say that alphas couldn’t work together, he realizes. Not that it’s ever been an issue for him before–but he’s never smelled an omega he’s wanted so much before, either. Tommy was always the tail-chaser, before everything went to shit; he was constantly getting himself into trouble, and Joel would constantly bail him out. And Tess… he’s never met an alpha quite like her. He’s never seen her with an omega, either; never bothered asking if she had one before the outbreak. But she’s compassionate, if a bit tough. She doesn’t seem like the main threat right now.

This is what he’s always hated about these god-forsaken roles. He watches Tommy’s pace pick up a little, sees the younger Miller’s nose tilt ever-so-slightly to the wind, and in this moment he sees his own brother as a threat. That’s something that should never have had to happen. But a pack of three, and all alphas… it was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe they’ve all been fooling themselves.

It’s been great for them thus far, being able to use each other when necessary without fear of repercussions, but there also hasn’t been an omega in the picture yet. Now, with heavy pheromones swirling invisibly between the three of them, a subtle and silent struggle for dominance starts to rear its ugly head.

The scent only grows stronger, and it makes Joel worry. It’s heady, damn near overwhelming. Joel’s never witnessed an omega so close to heat without actually being in heat. The pull of your pheromones is dangerous–it’ll draw in every alpha within a range of miles, maybe even some from the QZ with how close you are. The range will only grow once your heat actually breaks out. The pack is heading directly towards the source of great danger, and all three of them know it. Even still, all three of them are powerless to stop it.

Joel spots you first. You’re nestled under a tree, sound asleep, half-camouflaged by a blanket of orange and brown leaves. You’re gorgeous, there’s no other way to describe you, and with your pheromones flooding his senses it’s nearly impossible for him to hold back from approaching you.

He reaches out a quick hand and grabs his brother’s arm just as he’s about to step towards you.

“Don’t,” Joel growls from deep in his chest. His eyes dart around quickly, searching every inch of autumn foliage for some sign of the trap this must be. They’ve heard about this exact kind of trap before, and Joel mentally curses himself for falling right into it despite knowing better.

Hardly any unmarked omegas survived outbreak day. Many of the few that did were captured by large groups of malicious betas and put into traps, their heats used to lure in alphas who were then exterminated en masse. Joel and his pack have been lucky not to encounter such a trap yet, but everyone’s luck runs out eventually.

They stand, they watch you, and they wait for the other boot to drop.

But it doesn’t. You sleep peacefully, albeit squirming a little bit, and no one else comes. There’s nothing but the sound of birds chirping in the distance and wind rustling the bare branches of the trees overhead.

All of a sudden, you wake. Your entire body jolts, nostrils flaring at the heavy and suddenly overwhelming scent of alpha. Your beautiful eyes widen with fear, and Joel sees you're about to make a break for it.

Without thinking, he steps forward and holds a hand out in front of him–a sign of goodwill. “Easy, omega. We ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Your chest heaves with panting breaths, but you don’t move yet. You’re smart, he thinks. You know you can’t outrun all three of them.

“You’re in a spot a’trouble,” Joel continues, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible as he takes another tiny step closer to you. “Could smell your heat comin’ on from miles away. What’s a li’l thing like you doin’ out in the woods all alone?”

“Going to the QZ.” There’s a firmness behind your tone–how brave you are, he thinks. And how stupid. 

“Where you comin’ from?” He asks–prying, but gently.

You look apprehensive, but you answer anyway. “Tennessee.”

“Didn’t do your research, did you sweetheart?” He grumbles as gently as he can. “Atlanta don’t take omegas. You go there, ‘specially in the state you’re in, you’ll be shot on sight.”

He can almost see the gears turning in your head, albeit slowly given your state; you’re wondering if he’s really telling the truth, if you can really trust him. You’re wondering why he hasn’t leaped at you yet.

You gulp and plant your hands in the dirt at your sides as if you’re getting ready to stand, but you don’t move yet.

Tommy takes a quick step forward, and Joel sees the way you flinch at the sharp crack of a twig underneath the younger Miller’s boot.

“Joel–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, a little harsher than he means to. “Don’t you fuckin’ move, Tommy. I mean it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whisper, hardly louder than the breeze. And then he sees it–the first pang of heat, your face screwing up in pain and your body squirming uncomfortably on the forest floor. You try not to show it, but Joel catches it anyway. Your heat is here, and his instincts take over.

“Fuck off,” he snarls, stepping firmly between Tommy and you. Tess steps forward, mouth agape in some mixture of shock and confusion, and Joel swivels his burning gaze to her. “Both of you. Fuck off. Go on ahead to Atlanta, I’ll meet up with you there.”

Tess doesn’t look affected, just concerned. “Joel, what the–”

“Go!” He roars. There’s no room for argument, even though Tommy opens his mouth like he might try. In the end, they know there’s no winning. Not right now, not with Joel’s pheromones rising and his eyes so dark. They hesitate just a moment, slowly back away, and then finally admit defeat and vanish into the trees.

Once they’re gone, you don’t try to hide your pain as much. A whimper escapes your lips as you squeeze your thighs together and all pretense falls away.

“You okay, little one?” He drops to his knees beside you so he can give you a better look. It’s clear that the road you’ve traveled has not been easy on you–he’s amazed you’ve survived as long as you have all on your own. You’re disheveled and dirty, maybe even worse off than he is. You look like you haven’t eaten in days, and the simple t-shirt covering you isn’t nearly warm enough to protect you from the chill riding in on the late autumn breeze.

Joel’s quick to rip his jacket off and drape it around your trembling shoulders–he feels a strange surge of pride when you quickly pull the fabric tightly around you and nuzzle your face into the collar for a deep inhale of his scent.

“Talk to me, omega.” His voice is deep, demanding. “You doin’ okay? What can I do to help?”

“Alpha…” Your voice is so quiet, and all he wants is to take you into his arms. But now of all times is not the time to be hasty. As much as he wants you, he refuses to take advantage of you.

“It hurts, alpha,” you continue quietly.

“I know, baby.” The sweet ting of southern accent in his voice seeps into your very veins and warms you from head to toe with each rapid thump of your heart. “How can I help?”

You reach a shaky hand towards him and he meets you halfway, marveling at how small your hand is compared to his paw. He never really considered himself a big guy until this moment, seeing you so small and helpless beside him. Clearly it’s affecting you too–he sees the way your thighs clench tightly together the second he touches you.

“I trust you,” you murmur so sweetly.

For a moment, he considers running. He’s done horrible things with the hands that now hold you so gently. He’s not one to be trusted. He’ll only end up hurting you.

“Your scent’s gonna draw more alphas in, baby,” he coos deeply. “There’s a whole QZ fullav’em just a couple miles away. It ain’t safe to be out in the open like this.”

But there’s no logic or reason left in your gaze–you nuzzle your face into his neck so you can inhale his scent straight from the source, and Joel knows there’s only one way this ends without some worse alpha coming along and hurting or killing you.

“Need you, alpha,” you plead as shiny tears fill your pretty eyes. “Please, it hurts so bad.”

Joel wonders if this is your first heat–it sure seems like it. You’ve probably been on suppressants since the day you presented. Every bone in his body screams for you; screams to take your pain away, to soothe you with his own body, to make you his.

He’s never felt so much like an alpha as he does in this moment, when your heat gets the better of you and you fuze your mouth to his in a searing kiss.

Joel actually moans into your mouth. It’s deep and a little louder than he means to be, caught off guard by the suddenness of the kiss but even more by how sweet you taste. Your scent didn’t do you justice, really. He’s never gotten addicted to someone from their kiss alone before, and yet just as suddenly as it started he needs more. He needs to devour you whole, to claim every inch of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else. Even as he licks into your mouth and easily takes control of your mouth with his tongue, he knows this is going to end badly. He also knows that he doesn’t care.

“Sweet little thing,” he coos as he tugs you to straddle his lap. You can feel the insistent press of his hardening bulge against your core, and you grind down so hard he hisses. “Easy baby, I gotcha.”

“Alpha, please…”

“Gotta have some patience, omega,” he tells you firmly. “I’ll take care’a ya, but I gotta getcha ready first. Don’t wanna hurtcha.”

You kind of want it to hurt, you kind of want him to burn himself into your very soul, but you don’t say as much out loud. You probably couldn’t form the words anyway–all that comes from your mouth is a needy little whimper.

“Hush, omega, you’re okay,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back against the fallen leaves, one hand carefully cushioning your head while the other pulls your thigh open so he can slot himself between your legs. “M’gonna make it all better, just gotta be good f’me.”

“Alpha…” You feel the first ounce of relief as he drags your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth motion. Your burning skin is met with cool air and it feels incredible. Nearly as incredible as the sensation of his kisses tracing down your body, even through the fabric of your t-shirt that he leaves in place because he doesn’t want you getting cold no matter how much it feels like you might spontaneously combust if you don’t feel him inside you soon.

“You’re gonna be good for me, arentcha?” He hums against the hem of your t-shirt, just above where you so desperately need him.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathe as politely as you can manage.

His lips latch onto your clit as soon as the words have left your mouth. He knows exactly what you need–none of that torturous rapid flicking that you’ve experienced in the past but firm, honest-to-god, get-the-job-done suction.

He slips a finger into your dripping entrance and it’s honestly amazing that you don’t come right on the spot. Just that one thick finger is a stretch–it makes you arch your hips up off the ground, desperate to get away from the onslaught of pleasure and yet simultaneously wanting more.

“I know, sweetie,” he coos against your clit, slowly curling his finger until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. “Feels good, doesn’it?”

“Y-yes, oh my–”

He throws all pretense out the window and adds two more fingers, filling you to your breaking point. You shatter without warning as he increases the pressure on your clit, thighs quivering and hips bucking pathetically as your warmth coats his chin. Your entire body wracks as he works you through it, fingers curling against your g-spot as his lips mercifully release your clit with an obscene pop.

“That’s right, baby,” he coos proudly. “So good f’me.”

You’re panting as you come down, satisfied for one beautiful moment even as he pulls his fingers from you so he can kiss his way back up to your mouth.

He slots between your legs so he can lick into your mouth again, and the taste of your own pleasure on his tongue makes everything come crashing back down. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, and you groan out in pain and need for him.

He grunts when your legs lock around his sturdy waist, feet pressing into his ass to grind his heavy, jean-clad cock into your soaked folds. He moans from the very pit of his stomach, surprised at the sudden movement–and then he presses even harder, grinding himself so firmly against your cunt that you swear you can feel the outline of his mushroom head even through the layers of clothing he still wears.

“Tell me you want this, omega,” he pants into your ear, still pressed so tightly to you as he reaches down to tug his belt open. “Tell me to fuck you.”

“Please, alpha.” You’re trying so hard not to sound whiny, but you’re failing miserably. “Please fuck me.”

Joel simply adores how sweetly you ask for what you need. God, he doesn’t even know your name, but it’s taking everything in him not to claim you for the rest of eternity.

Would that really be so bad? Clearly you’re a survivor if you’ve made it this far, and as an omega no less. You could be a valuable addition to the pack.

But really, it’s the thought of having you as a home to come back to that gets him tugging his cock out of his jeans to the symphony of your quiet moans and pleas. He thinks about having a lovingly-crafted nest and the sweetest, tightest cunt he’s ever known waiting for him at the end of a long day, and it takes everything in him not to blow his load right then and there.

He knows he doesn’t deserve this, but he’s willing to be selfish anyway. Just this once.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you look down and see the firm length of him, barely contained in his big hand. He’s thick and weeping precum, tip stained a dark maroon from sitting in his jeans untouched this long. He’s nothing like the betas you entertained yourself with before the outbreak–you’ve never even really seen an alpha’s cock in person, and certainly none this large.

He must see the apprehension in your gaze, because he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger so he can raise your face to meet his dark, brooding eyes. “You tell me if it hurts, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you, wanna help you feel better.”

You don’t know why, but you trust him. So you nod, and you tug him into a deep kiss.

The first press of him into your waiting core has your mouth dropping open, head pressing back into the hand that cups the back of your head. He keeps you pressed so firmly against his entire body as he inches in. He’s so attentive, pulling back to watch your face for any sign of discomfort as he rocks his hips, pushing an inch deeper with every shallow thrust until the base of him settles as tightly against you as he can.

He doesn’t find anything in your expression other than pure euphoria.

He kisses you, breathless and messy, as he wills himself to stay still while fully sheathed in your tight heat. Damn it all, he’s fighting so hard for control. He’s never had someone squeeze him so perfectly, so warmly. Your cunt is pure, unadulterated heaven.

“A-alpha,” you whine once you’re ready, but he can’t move. Not yet. You’re his omega, he needs to take care of you, and he’s far too close to spilling himself deep inside your cunt and pressing even deeper so his knot can take root. He could never live with himself if he disappointed you like that.

“Please, alpha,” you try again, and the unrelenting need is what does him in. You need him, not just anyone. No one else could satisfy you how he does–he’s sure of it.

With the first true thrust of his hips, a wave of pheromones rushes over his senses. He basks in the scent of you, nearly high on it, and then the danger of this comes crashing back to him.

He thrusts deep, makes your toes curl and your chest heave, and he asks a weighted question as the pace continues. “This your first heat?”

You nod your head, barely even able to process his words. “R-ran out of s-suppressants.”

Fuck. He knew it. You don’t even seem to realize the danger, the calling card that you’re putting on display for every alpha within a ten mile radius. It’s a miracle that no one has shown up–everyone in Atlanta is probably wise to the trap scheme, luckily. But luck runs out eventually, and someone’s going to end up taking a chance for your delectable scent.

“Others’re gonna smell you, omega,” he growls as he grinds deep. “Ain’t safe to be unmarked out here. They’ll come f’ya.”

The pleasure is unbearable–toe-curling, blood-boiling, thigh-quaking. All you can do is sob and whine as his big cock fucks into you and hits exactly the right spot with every thrust.

“Gotta mark ya,” he continues quietly. “Only way to keep you safe, baby.”

You come out of your reverie a little bit at that; but deep down, you know he’s right. The only way you’ve been able to survive so long was a stockpile of suppressants you were lucky enough to get your hands on. But they’re gone, and with them your chances of surviving much longer. Unless you let this stranger mark you–the most intimate gesture possible.

“Okay,” you breathe against his neck. “Mark me.”

Your cunt clenches unbearably tight around his shaft as his teeth dig sharply into the base of your neck. Your taste floods his mouth, heady and warm–in combination with your legs locked around his waist, he can’t stop it. He’s coming before he can warn you, hot ropes of seed coating every inch of you, seemingly endless. And then, without thinking, he presses that little bit deeper so his knot can fill you to your limit.

You sob at the sensation, nails digging into his shirt-clad back in a feeble attempt to tamp down the overload of pleasure at the sudden stretch of his thick knot in your tight cunt.

“Fuckfuckfuck–” he growls into your bitten neck, grinding himself as deep as he can as his cock pulses within your tight walls. “Oh fuck omega, I’m sorry–”

You hush him to the best of your breathless ability as your hands smooth through his sweaty brown hair and down over his shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s okay, alpha. You made it so much better.”

There’s a long moment of silence, Joel’s mind swirling with so many thoughts that he can’t focus on a single one. You coax him through it silently, hands smoothing over the fabric of his shirt as your breathing slowly comes.

You’ve never felt so full, so complete. His scent surrounds you and fills you; nothing has ever felt quite so right.

You realize vaguely that he’s licking the blood from the teeth marks on your neck, and you think now’s as good a time as any to give him your name.

He looks up at you, confused for a moment, and then a warm laugh bubbles from his throat. God, he can’t remember the last time he actually laughed. What are you doing to him?

“Joel Miller,” he introduces himself back. “M’sorry, I shoulda started with that.”

His arms are getting shaky from supporting his weight above you, so he grabs firmly onto your waist and rolls smoothly onto his back with you rested snugly against his chest.

“M’sorry,” he repeats again as he feels his swollen knot pulse within you at the slight movement of your hips. “I meant to pull out, I–”

“I wanted it,” you tell him. “I wouldn’t let you. I’m sorry too.”

He gulps, nods once as a hand idly comes up to cradle your head. “I’ve got a guy in the QZ. He can get us a pill. But we’ve gotta be more careful next time.”

“Next time?”

“That was just the first round, baby,” he explains quietly. “Heats can last days, even a week. You’ll need a lot more care ‘fore it’s over.”

“Oh.” You feel so dumb, getting your education from someone whose knot is currently swollen inside you.

“We’ll get a pill,” he promises. “And I’ll pull out next time.”

“You’re… not leaving?” You’ve tried so hard not to have any false pretenses about this. You figured from the get go that he’d leave as soon as his knot went down and you’d never see him again.

He sighs heavily and runs a hand over the patchy brown hair on his chin. “Look, I… you met the rest’a my pack earlier, sorta. There’s just the three of us. We’re not good people, but… we’ll keep you safe. And you seem like you’re able to earn your keep.”

“I am,” you’re quick to assert.

“And I’ve marked you,” he adds. “Can’t just leave ya out here to fend for yourself. You’re my omega now.”

You don’t know why, but the words make your heart flutter.

You and Joel catch up to Tommy and Tess at the edge of the QZ, just in time for the meeting with their contact. Joel had explained to you on the way that it was an old acquaintance, a guy they’d met in Texas shortly after the outbreak who they’d worked with for a few months before he joined up with FEDRA. Now he sneaks supplies out to them in exchange for rarities from the other QZs.

That’s what the pack does, Joel had explained. They’re smugglers–they distribute things illegally between all the different continental quarantine zones.

Tommy and Tess see the two of you coming, and they’re instantly on guard. It only gets worse when Tommy recognizes the brown leather jacket wrapped tightly around your torso to shield you from the breeze.

“Joel.”

Joel tries to ignore Tommy’s call, but there’s not much he can do.

“Joel, what the fuck’ve you done?”

Joel supposes Tommy’s outrage is justified, but he shields you from it anyway. Truth be told, he doesn’t rightly know just what he’s gotten himself into with you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #alpha! joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #cece writes #series: maroon

[tojiscursedtool]

Hi reqesting a headcanon where in another au toji's wife died while giving birt to megumi and so Toji was by himself and had no clue on how to raise a kid so he went to a parenting class where he met male!reader who also his also a single father. Toji starts falling for male!reader

₊˚ʚ Toji HC’s . ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Note ~ of course, thank you so much for the request!!

MENTIONS — MaleTeacher!Reader, SFW, Fluff?, mentions of death and struggle, kissing, Toji falls in love with reader, Reader takes care of Megumi, some angst-ish, love confessing.

࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

— After Toji’s wife died he wasn’t really in a good state but he still had to try for the thing she left, their child, Megumi. He didn’t know how to take care of their child and he was completely lost, he’d searched up online if there were any type of learning ways on how to raise a child, there were classes he could attend for people like him. Who were also confused on how to raise a child.

— Toji started attending these parenting classes, at first he was confused but he kind of got the hang of it?..you’d have to help and correct him here and there but that’s what these classes were for, for you to help those who were confused, especially him.

— Toji appreciated your help a lot, he’d even ask if you could give him extra time to figure some things out he wasn’t sure on and you agreed, he was a nice guy and was a caring father trying for his child of course you’d say yes with no hesitation.

— During the times you did extra lessons with him the more you knew about him, and his child. You felt bad for him especially his child. The mother had passed away to birth due to a lot of blood loss, you felt bad for Toji and his child, Megumi. Toji would assure you that it’s okay and he’s grateful he has a helping hand with Megumi and someone who could help him during these hard times.

— Toji was a tough guy to crack, you couldn’t really read his emotions or tell how he was feeling. You both weren’t on that level of trust yet to were he’d tell you everything, Toji needed help with his child that is what he was there for. Not for friends..he didn’t see you as a friend a bad thing though. He just didn’t want to get distracted from the main point at hand, his child’s future.

— Little by little Toji has been picking up what you’ve been teaching him and he was glad he was able to raise Megumi correctly, he would thank you and you were a great help. He’d sometimes gave you a small genuine smile that you rarely see, a different side of him. He really was a sweet guy.

— as weeks, months, and maybe a year went by Megumi was growing up fast, Toji would sometimes come to you for help with Megumi when he was confused on behavior or what to do with Megumi’s change of growth. He’d even tell you that Megumi took his first steps recently and began speaking slowly, you were happy to hear that especially from the lessons you gave Toji you were glad he was putting them to use.

— Time from time Toji would invite you over to his place or even ask you out, as friends of course. He wanted to show his appreciation and also wanted to get closer to you, to be close with someone who helped him through a hard time and is still helping him. Usually he would take you for a bite to eat or a stroll out bringing Megumi, of course you didn’t mind because he was a single father and had no one else to take care of him.

— Toji felt closer to you, trusted you more, he told you how he was feeling more often and was more soft with you. He felt a strange feeling when around you or when talking with you..a good feeling? Like his body was happy and his insides felt fuzzy and warm, he couldn’t help but smile around you. He’d always ask how you are and if you are busy with work so the both of you can make plans, and if you’re free he’d always snatch you up after work. You loved when Megumi came along he was really cute, he even learned how to say your name. It made your heart melt, he was such an adorable kid and Toji was such a good father, you also felt a way towards him but you tried to push those feelings aside, he lost his wife almost a year ago and he was a single father, plus was he even gay? You were sure but didn’t want to push the matter. You were glad the both of you were good friends anyways.

— months go on, you both are still great friends. Toji would still come around to your work place here and there to ask for help or what he should do with/for Megumi. And of course..you were more than happy to help.

— Toji starts to feel something towards you..at first he thought it was just him being comfortable with you but he figured out it was more than that, at first he tried to deny it. He wasn’t gay, he couldn’t be, he has a wife..or well he had one. He feels a romantic feeling towards you and he’s unsure if it’s mutual, he assume it isn’t because he’s just some guy who could barely afford his rent and needs help to take care of a kid. Who’d want a guy like that? Sure he was good looking but he didn’t think he’d even have qualities of a partner. He tried to push those feelings aside and just wanted to remain your friend, he doesn’t want to lose what he has with you already.

— Toji who would always text and call you showing you how Megumi was doing and always made sure to thank you, it really made your day. It was so cute on how good of a father Toji was, he was so sweet towards Megumi honestly so heart warming, you’d reassure him it was no problem and that was what you were there for.

— Toji was usually busy with work to provide for himself and Megumi, but he managed to pull through. Especially thanks to your help, it didn’t help his feelings what so ever, his feelings towards you grew even stronger. He was beginning to love you and he couldn’t control it. To Toji you were such a sweet and cute guy, he’s never felt that way about a man like that before, and he’s never even gave it though..dating a guy? He wasn’t sure anyways. He tried to shove those thoughts away but couldn’t due to the image of you he had in his head. A sweet, caring, loving guy who was great with kids. To him you were also very pretty, very handsome, you made his heart flutter whenever he saw you.

— Toji couldn’t get you out of his mind so he got a sitter for the day and invited you out, he wanted to take a walk and have a talk with you. You happily obliged and were curious to what he wanted to talk about, once the both of you were hanging out he explained to you how he was feeling.

“Hey, sorry for the random call, jus’ wanted to talk to ya’ about sumthin’.” He spoke looking at you, gazing into your eyes before looking away, you told him it was okay and not to worry about it! As the two of you were walking and taking a stroll in the park he confessed..he told you how he was feeling about you and wanted to know how you felt, you looked happy, your eyes where glimmering with happiness as you gave him a warm smile and spoke back to him, “I’ve also felt that way towards you as well, Toji! I did not know you’d feel something like that towards— towards me..it’s honestly quite shocking but I’m really happy.” You hugged him tightly as he hugged you back wrapping his arms around your torso. He smiled before he used his hand to lift up your chin and slowly lean towards you, he kissed you gently and softly. You gasped but got used to it and kissed him back, melting into the kiss as you felt like you were on cloud nine.

— Toji who started dating you after that day happened, he’d cover Megumi’s eyes when you and him would kiss, he’d compliment you, tell you how much he loves you, he’d try his best to spoil you in anyway he can. He’s completely infatuated with you, Inlove, it wasn’t a bad thing because so were you.

— you and Toji moved in together a few months after dating, you would help around with Megumi as he was working, of course you still did you job too you would even bring Megumi to work with you occasionally. You and Toji shared a room, he was sweet to you, he’d help you as much as he could, he’d go on about how much he loves you, protects you, tells you he will always make sure you’re safe and loved when you’re with him

࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

#jjk x male reader #male!reader #gay #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #toji x reader #toji headcanons #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x y/n #toji x you #jjk x y/n #x y/n #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #fluff

[railingsofsorrow]

we'll be alright

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 2.4K

warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.

A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“what are you doing?”

“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”

you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.

“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”

“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”

“have you told him?”

“no.”

her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.

“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.

seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.

“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”

you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.

“thanks, jayge,” you say.

jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.

“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.

“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.

he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.

you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”

“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.

“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”

“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”

you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”

“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”

a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.

“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”

“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.

“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”

your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.

you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.

“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.

“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.

“you said I can't.”

“you're correcting my misspellings now?”

spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.

“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.

he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.

“are you okay?”

silence. and then,

“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.

“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”

“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”

“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”

you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”

“and I don't believe you.”

somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.

“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.

spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.

“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”

“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”

“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.

“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.

“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”

“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?

spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.

he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.

he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.

it's actually the opposite.

“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.

“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”

letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”

he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”

“are you mad?”

he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”

you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”

spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”

your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.

“what?” he nudges your nose with his.

“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.

“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”

you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.

spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj

#reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction

[soccer-love]

Wouldn't let you date my child

Tuva Hansen x reader

Besides the girls from the second team, I was the youngest one in the Bayern squad.

Only being 19 and already playing for Bayern München and the German national team was insane.

And even though it didn't make a difference while playing, they still liked to make fun of me for being the youngest.

Not in a bad way, since there wasn't such a huge age difference between me and the other players, but they just couldnt resist.

And then there were Magda and Pernille.

They joint Bayern at the same time as me and kind of took me under their wing.

Something our teammates liked to made fun of too, they said that they adopted me.

And to be honest I cant say that I don't like the thought of that, they are really nice to me and helped me a lot to get used to a new team and city.

"P, who would you not let date your child?" I hear Zadi asking as I put my suitcase into the bus. We are on our way to our away game in Duisburg and I think she got bored of waiting.

She has pointed her phone at Pernille, recording the question and her answer.

"Mhmm....Tuva I think." she then says, laughing.

I watch Zadi asking the same question to some other players and I notice that a lot of them actually say Tuva.

I stay outside until I see Magda coming towards Zaid, cause I am really curious about her answer.

She asks her the question and Magda laughs, "I cant say that, I think it's sorta mean."

"Magda." Zadi complains.

"Tuva." Magda then whispers, making Zadi laugh.

I get into the bus and take my usual spot behind Magda and Pernille.

"Hey P." I hear Glodis shouting, she is siting a few rows before us, a big smile on her face.

"Why wouldn't you let Y/N date Tuva?" she asks, making the others around us laugh.

"Why wouldn't you let your child date Georgia?" she replies and I notice Tuva looking at me.

I smile at her and notice her cheeks getting a little red before she looks away.

We fly out to Duisburg and when we get to our hotel it is already late, we all eat dinner together before going to our rooms.

Since Kathi isn't here because of her injury I get a single room and after I settled in I hear a slight knock on the door.

"Hey there." I greet Tuva, she's already dressed in some joggers and a Bayern hoodie.

"Sorry but I cant come in." she says, but takes a step inside so I can close the door behind her.

"Why not?" I ask, leaning against the wall.

"Your adoptive moms don't want you to date me." she says but by the smile on her face I know that she isn't serious and she comes closer to me.

She places her hand against the wall, next to my head and I look at her innocently.

"Really, well in that case.....maybe you should go back to your room." I say, trying to step aside but she quickly places her other hand also on the wall, so I am trapped between them.

"Or maybe I should just ignore what they think."

As an answer to that, I pull her closer and softly kiss her.

"I think option two is the better one." I whisper in the space between us as we brake apart.

"Good, because I really don't want to brake up with you, like ever."

I pull her into a hug and let my head rest on her shoulder.

"Do you think they really mean what they say?" I ask as we are lay down on my bed, Tuva instantly pulling me into her arms.

"A little maybe, but I don't think anybody from the team would tell their child who they can date and not date." she says, softly pushing some hair out of my face.

"I know I think to much about what people may think of me and technically Magda and P aren't even my parents but, except for you, they are the closest thing to family I have here." I say and she smiles at me.

"Yeah, but I they will always love you. They would rather kill me if I hurt you.."

I laugh at her answer and place a kiss on her cheek, we've only been together for seven months but I love her so damn much.

"Do you really think we are a family?" she asks after some seconds, referring to what I said earlier.

My heart melts at her question, Jesus I have so much love for her.

"Yes, I...I do think that." I say and feel her pulling me a little bit closer to her. "You and also Vilja are my family, and the team of course too."

"Oh yeah Vilja definitely thinks that too, she already loves you more than me."

"That's so not true."

"Oh yeah? You remember our walk last Saturday? When we both called her and she went straight to you."

"Maybe I am just so lovable." I suggest and she laughs, before pressing a kiss to my lips.

"Oh you defiantly are."

I let my head rest on her shoulder and Tuva pulls a blanked around us.

"I wish you could stay here tonight." I say, we talked about this topic a lot already, we thought about talking to the stuff so that we could be roomies but we didn't want anyone to get suspicious.

And even though I had a single room, we didn't want Lea to worry why Tuva wasn't sleeping in their room.

"Me too, but you can stay at my place tomorrow night if you like." she says and I nod.

"I will never say no to that."

She softly starts to run her fingers through my hair and it gets harder to keep my eyes open.

It is always like that with her, she makes me feel so safe and when I am laying in her arms, her running her hand through my hair. And when she then starts to talk to me in her native language, I tend to fall asleep.

"You should sleep, Søta." she whispers and I open my eyes again.

"Only if I get a goodnight kiss." I give in.

"Always." she softly places on hand on my cheek and then her lips meet mine.

I love the way they feel against mine and in the way she kisses me I can feel the love that is between us.

I am so lucky to have her.

"Goodnight." she whispers and gets up.

"Goodnight, Tuva." I answer and follow her to the door, she gives me another kiss before leaving and I quickly brush my teeth and then go back to bed.

------

The game the next day goes really well, Duisburg scores in the first half but after the break we score five times and take the three points home with us.

After the next training session I find a small note, tucked inside my shoes.

"Meet me outside, love T."

Tomorrow most of us are leaving for trainings camp with their national team so she probably wants to say goodbye to me.

I quickly change my cloths and collect my stuff, before saying goodbye to the others.

When I exit the locker room I hear Magda shouting something but I cant hear what it is.

I go to the spot where we usually meet after training and as I go around the corner I see her leaning against the wall.

"Hey." I say and for a few seconds I allow my self to get lost in the blue of her eyes.

"I wanted to say goodbye." she explains and takes me hand "But not here."

She pulls me down the hall and into a small room that is normally used for med tests, but there is nobody in it.

I put my bag down and Tuva pulls me into her arms.

"I'm gonna miss you." she whispers against my head.

I take a deep breath and inhale her scent before answering.

"I will miss you too."

She smiles, softly kissing my head.

"You know that we both have a couple of days off, after our last international game." she says and I nod.

"Yeah?"

"I thought...maybe...only if you want to...then..."

"Tuva." I softly say and she laughs, it is more than cute when she is this nervous.

"I could book you a flight no Norway and you could come with me to where I grow up, meet my parents, see my other home." she suggests.

"Other home?"

"Well that place, where my family is, is my home. But you are my home too." she explains and I smile.

"I would love to see your other home."

"Good, I will get you a ticket later." she says and I lean my head against her shoulder.

She places her hand on my cheek and softly rubs her thumb over my skin.

I lean back and softly kiss her, not wanting to let go of her yet.

And as she pulls me closer, my body crashing against hers, the door next to us flys open.

"Y/N I....WHOA!"

Tuva lets go of me but her hand is still holding mine.

"WHAT THE FUCK" Magda says, in a volume that now everyone probably heard it.

"Your good?" I hear Pernille asking from outside and then she comes in too.

"What's going on?" she asks as she sees me and Tuva standing there.

"They kissed." Magda says and points at us.

"Who kissed?" I hear Georgia asks and just some seconds after she comes in along with Linda and Jill.

"Tuva." Magda says, her voice so much deeper than usual that it scares me a little bit.

She takes a step forward and with one arm Tuva shoves me behind her back (something that would actually be really cute in another situation).

"Yes?"

"You are a really good player and I appreciate it that you always have my back on the field....BUT....if you hurt her or do anything to make her cry.....then I-" at that point of her speech, she reaches out and pokes her finger into Tuva's shoulder.

"-will hurt you!"

"I would never hurt her." Tuva answers, grabbing my hand a bit tighter.

"Babe....I think they're old enough to have a relationship." Pernille softly says, smiling at me but pulling Magda backwards.

"Well I guess your child doesn't care what you say about not dating someone." Glodis says from the door, I didn't even notice her coming in.

Magda turns back towards Tuva.

"You better be good Hansen!"

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #fc bayern frauen #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder #fcbfrauen x reader #tuva Hansen x reader #glodis viggosdottir #georgia stanway #lgbtq+