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ssareiids · 9 days ago

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HOW I MET YOUR DAD

pairing: late seasons! spencer x bau! reader

summary: in which you retell the love story of you and spencer to your child.

tw/cw: you two have a kid!! yay or nay chat, also you two are married because why not. it's unspecified whether or not your child is adopted, and their gender aswell as name is up to you. tried to keep it as androgynous as possible, gn! reader but interpret it as you please. your kid calls both you and spencer bwabwa 😭

shayli's ted talk: i wanna write for wilson but the thing is im only on s2 of house m.d and im scared to mischaracterize him.. yolo ig

The methodic and steady hum of the refrigerator keeps you rooted to this moment, a moment of silence and domestic bliss. A refuge from the chaotic upbringing of your lovely child and the toys that scatter and trail in their wake.

You've been dicing the same onion for a minute or two now, your mind scrambled and unusually bothered by the fact that there were no distractions.

It left you suspicious of what your kid was up to, no older than 7 and prone to accidents like they were a magnet for cuts and bruises. You drop the knife steadily on the board where chopped onions lay, careful not to be too loud and startle the little animal you were going to approach.

Your footsteps are steady, rythymic, and careful. Like you were in a warehouse where an unsub stood unseen, your days of the FBI are long behind you, admist your 6 month long sabbatical you had forgotten how to wield the same steadiness that used to come naturally to you.

It didn't bug you at all that you had lost that sense however, it made you... happy. That you wouldn't be exposing your bundle of joy to the dangers of the career that followed you to your door like a banshee that couldn't be excorcised.

You linger on each doorway to a different room, peeking inside momentarily each one as if clearing each place like it was an FBI raid. Keeping your eyes sharp and open for any sign of the cheeky troublemaker on the loose.

Each room that you claim empty makes your stomach gurgle with unease, a fear that gnaws deep inside your core until it ate it's way out, you knew it was highly unlikely. That your child had not been kidnapped, but you still feared it anyway.

You call out their name when you finish looking around the guest bedroom where they often hid underneath the bed to spook you, your eyebrows shot up instinctively when you hear not a response back, but the sound of shuffling. A familiar melody you hear whenever you fish through the drawers looking for an item lost in the sea of tangled chargers and socks that didn't have their pair.

Approaching the source of the sound, you peer into the cracks of the master bedroom door left slightly opened, and sigh in momentary relief when you see that your prankster has not been touched by an intruder.

"And.. what are you doing here?"

You ask gently, looking down at them with intrigue, not with the intent to scold or to punish. You had swore to yourself after all you would treat them with love and nothing else, regardless of the times they had used your lipstick as paint for the wall.

"Bwabwa! Look!" Piping up energetically, and you only snort at the nickname they had given you. You assumed that they took it from that show they always watch, what was it..? Right, Rabbids Invasion, where those bunnies only spoke in a language consistent of "bwabwa" and nothing more.

You tilt your head at their discovery, leaning down to sit down next to their figure on the floor before scooting in closer. Bringing them to your side as you wrap an arm around their neck the best you could manage for their smaller height.

Laid there in their hands was a scrapbook.

The cover was white, and the letters cut out from other newspapers' letters and such to form a few words.

" SPENCER AND [NAME] : THE BOOK! "

Each separate letter was either wonky, had a piece of it's lineart cut off, or was in a different font. You hardly made the words out if you didn't tell what it was from your memory alone.

You remember making this scrapbook with him, taking photos of practically everything on each memorable date, but with Spencer– every date was worth remembering.

He had insisted that you two wouldn't need this because his mind alone could replace the book just fine, you gave him a punch to his shoulder and then he obliged– very hesitantly.

After every date, or hangout, or maybe even after just staying together for a while. You'd paste or staple something tied to that moment and jot down a few key notes about the event, like it was a project of some sorts. Often scribbling an extremely cartoonish picture of you two that he'd furrow his eyebrows at and claim that this was "not him"

He had filled it in with some of his own memorabilia, usually it'd be something simple and he'd let you fill it in with the colour and vibrant things. Maybe a poker card or a monopoly piece from a game you had flipped the board for.

He had rarely written any fun facts about the date in his pages, but when he did– boy, did he write. Sonnets in your name and fine poetry that was written in languages you didn't know, or sometimes in your native tongue. Claiming that there wasn't an English word that would suffice for a writing that would be jotted down and kept in the record.

You smile, a heart filled with nostalgia and love that still sparked strongly between you two. You open the book carefully, like a treasured artifact that should be preserved, and nearly tear up at the first entry. Photos of you and an awkward Spencer who was only 26 at the time, on your very first date.

"Bwabwa, who's that?"

Your child murmurs, pointing to Spencer who had longer hair and not an inch of hair on his chin, you only laugh when you realize they don't recognize him.

"That, sweetheart, is your dad." You correct them gently, putting your pointer finger on his face in the polaroid, they look up to you in disbelief like you had just told them the sun would explode in 5 minutes.

"That's.. bwabwa?"

"Yes, sweetheart, that is papa."

They look down at the photo once more, eyes concentrated in deep thought as they compared the image to the mental image of their dad, cross referencing each feature until they finally saw the similarity.

"Tell me more! Tell me more!" They sit up straighter, eager for you to explain what this book meant and the history of each picture and item glued onto the pages. Their eyes glistening in a curiousity you found in their father aswell.

You couldn't resist.

"Well... I suppose I can push back dinner by a little bit." You reply back hesitantly, but faced against the puppy eyes of a 6 year old, you really didn't stand a chance. Completely forgetting the stove and instead reliving the memories that would forever be in these enchanted pages.

"It was the autumn of 2007."

OCT 12, 2007, QUANTICO.

In the absence of Elle Greenaway and her sudden departure, you had been chosen to step forward and fill in her shoes. Though at first you had initially felt iced out by the intimidating, and highly valued profilers in the room. You soon learnt to become a family member too.

Spencer and Hotch were the last members you had before you could finally complete your collection of "befriended BAU team members." Garcia being one of the first few to be bedazzled by the personality you slowly showed each passing week.

It was Spencer's birthday, and claimed mandatory by Garcia, you all had went out to O'Keefes. Even if the birthday boy himself didn't like to drink, that didn't mean you all wouldn't celebrate with alcohol in his name.

You however, found yourself in a similiar predicament with the boy wonder. You didn't particularly enjoy alcohol as much as the others, when you had turned 21 and took your first shot on your birthday. You scrunched your nose and didn't take another for the rest of the night.

He sat there in the corner, pushed up uncomfortably by a Derek who didn't know of the personal space he was invading and pathogens he was throwing at Spencer's clothed figure. You felt bad, guilty even for how he stood out in his birthday and not in the good kind.

He didn't sparkle grandly with a grin that said that he was happy and content in the moment, he looked like an outsider pretending to be someone who understood the inside joke. Except there was no inside joke, it was just conversation, but with the art of socializing so complex for him. The feeling of being left out came easy, natural, and expected. Even if he was meant to be the center of the attention.

Nobody did anything more than glance and murmur quietly when he stands up, excusing himself to leave the spot to try and find a more secluded area. Leaving everyone stumped, but not enough to cancel the celebrations that everyone resumed with minutes after.

Naturally, you began to try and forget that moment aswell, even if the guilt swelled inside your chest and screamed for you to do something. You couldn't just... he didn't even classify you as a friend. What would you even do when you approached him? That is if he still was somewhere near and hasn't already went home disappointed.

You politely exit the steady conversation with a rushed smile and an excuse nobody would've ever bought, but admist alcohol and a very hearty celebration. Nobody did more than wave you goodbye aswell, just like Spencer.

You swipe your purse away from the table and head towards the exit of the bar, looking for any sign, any of his features that stood out until you landed on a slumped figure on the bench just about 17 or 20 steps away from you. A figure you could definitely identify as Spencer.

You look behind you to make sure no one from the team had followed you, not wanting to turn this little moment to comfort him and maybe gain his favour to be seen by the team. Not because you felt ashamed, but because you knew that gossip spread like wildfire in your social circle, but that gossip wasn't always... accurate.

With wary steps you make your way over to him, when he finally spots you from his peripheral and looks up at you. You raise your hands slightly in surrender before sitting down next to him slowly. Keeping a modest amount of distance between your bodies before starting a conversation.

"Bad day?"

You probe gently, carefully, making sure you don't look like you're asking for too much. Especially since your friendship wasn't even steady just yet, your interactions were only polite or regular colleague etiquette. Nothing personal like this.

"Yeah."

He answers, you aren't surprised when he leaves it vague and up to your interpretation. He doesn't trust you enough– Hell, he might not even trust you at all.

So instead of asking "why?" or trying to subtly figure it out like he was a suspect to break down. You ask something dumb, unexpected, and not what you usually say when comforting a co-worker in a slump.

"... You wanna get ice cream?"

"Sorry?"

"Ice cream, do you wanna get some..?"

You felt stupid having to repeat yourself, wishing you could have gone back in time just a few seconds ago and shook your 18 seconds younger self to have not said that. Your voice falters near the end of your question when you repeat it, as if already bracing yourself for the rejection to come with the embarrassment.

"... Sure."

He nods in approval of the now-not-so-absurd idea. Smiling to yourself as you stand up with a new friend beside you, now in pursuit of the nearest ice cream shop for a certain sugary treat

You may have not known it, and Spencer sure as hell didn't at the time, but this moment of ice cream hunting and eating was more than just a cheeky moment between two future best friends. It was a milestone, the beginning of a love story of the two stars who had no idea they were even in it.

"And that, is how I properly met your dad." You finish the story with a small smile on your face, leaning towards your child before giving them a boop on their nose with your finger. Giggling with them in response.

"More more!" They clap in excitement, turning through all the pages in the scrapbook until they land on the last entry where the book ended– but certainly not the love that followed.

Your wedding.

MAY 28, 2019, OUTDOOR VENUE

It was your wedding day.

Like... really your wedding day, not the rehearsal from the night before, not the bridesmaid party, and not... a figment of your imagination. This is real, in just a minute or two you'd be walking down the aisle of the carpet ontop of the beautiful greenery.

You and Spencer had unanimously agreed to have your wedding outside and during spring. Where the flowers reached their peak in blooming, and the grass was at its greenest. A few large willow trees sitting in the background of where your wedding was, while a gentle breeze brushed you both while you recited your vows.

You fidget with your fingers while looking at yourself in the mirror, dressed to the nines and looking the absolute best, though in Spencer's words. He'd probably say something like "you always look your best" in that cheesy tone that made it more funny than flattering.

Were you getting cold feet?

No, you most definitely were not, you love Spencer and he loves you. That's all that mattered in this moment, you'd walk down that aisle with nothing but love and confidence. You'd leave this venue with his last name, or maybe yours and his last name combined.

All your doubts and second thoughts dissipate like smoke being waved away when you see Penelope coming in your dressing room, bearing the news that it was time. You straighten invisible creases in your attire once more before following behind her and already beginning to tear up.

You stand there, all the way at the start of the white carpet that would lead you to a new beginning in your life, another chapter written into your book. Your father laughs as he takes his place beside you, murmuring reassurances you didn't catch trying to stop your tears from flowing so soon.

Not long after, wedding music begins to fill the outdoor space, Spencer straightening up in anticipation and nervousness when he spots your figure down the aisle beside your dad.

You both take one good long look at each other before you both smile weakly. Not even halfway through your stride to where he stands with Rossi– who insisted on being the officiant, he starts wiping tears with the sleeve of his suit. By the time you reach him and finally stand there infront of him, you both are crying and laughing at the same time.

"Dearly beloved, we gather here today..."

Rossi's words blend into the background as the two of you stare at each other with a love that's never felt more passionate and beautiful than right now. Having to be snapped out of your reveries with a gentle cough from Rossi.

You both jump a little bit and stare at the man before he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. Repeating the vows once more

"Do you, Spencer reid, take [Name] [Last name] to be your wedded spouse? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do."

He quickly answers with little to no hesitation, causing you to nearly tear up again with how he agreed to love you for eternity without any doubts.

"Do you, [Name] [Last name], take Spencer Reid to be your wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do."

You respond just as fast as Spencer did, smiling back at Spencer when his breath hitches from hearing the finality of those words. The guarantee that you two would be bound to each other not by restraints, but by love.

"Then, with the power bestowed upon me, I pronounce you husband and spouse."

Rossi announces, waiting just a few more seconds before finally speaking the sentence he knew Spencer had been waiting for patiently. Grinning to himself before he speaks up once more.

"You may now kiss the–"

Spencer doesn't waste a single minute before he pulls you towards him and his lips. Kissing you before Rossi could even finish as the audience seated infront of you all erupt into cheers, laughter, and applause.

You're about to continue on with how the rest of the venue went when you feel a smaller figure land on your side with a snore, looking down you can only coo at the sight of your usually energetic child having fallen asleep on you admist your storytelling.

You plant a tender kiss onto their forehead before letting them curl into you better for more comfort. Looking up your eyes land on the doorway, which is where your husband now stands with a smile that mirrored yours.

"Hey there, how long have you been standing there?" You tilt your head before ushering him to sit with the two of you on the floor. Placing a chaste kiss on his cheek when he settles right beside you

"Around the time when you were talking about how we weren't friends." He says 'weren't friends' while making a gesture of air quotation marks with his fingers, causing you to roll your eyes with a huff of disbelief.

"I'm right though, we weren't friends at the time."

"Mmmm... not so sure." He replies, exaggerating the 'm' to make himself sound more dramatic. It earns him a gentle punch to his shoulder that he naturally says "ow!" at, even though it didn't really hurt.

"I love you." You murmur quietly, resting your head on his shoulder shortly with a soft smile. Letting your eyes close as you sigh softly in content and satisfaction of where you've gotten in life.

"Yeah I know." He replies jokingly, trying to play off the love confession like his heart still didn't beat faster everytime he heard you say it. The joke doesn't pay off very well though, unless you consider a punch payment.

"Ow! You didn't have to punch me for that!"

He whisper yells, careful to not wake up your sleeping child still beside you two. You only smile to yourself at his reaction with a quiet giggle before letting the silence take over a bit, waiting for what you knew what he was going to say.

"I love you too." He says it back proudly just to show that this one wasn't an attempt at a joke like his previous comment. Letting his head fall ontop of yours which sat on his shoulder and closing his eyes too.

shayli's ted talk: please don't mind how the writing slowly gets more bad i wrote the other half of this on my break💔

written by @ssareiids

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ssareiids · 10 days ago

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LIBRARY

hello there, looking for some light reading? you've come to the correct place! though i must tell you– this is no library of alexandria, we've only got three books and one shelf hardly filled. regardless please proceed carefully and read the signs above the shelves before walking into that aisle, happy reading dearest visitor!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦. ° 🦢 .

OAK SHELF 𐃘 fluff, or a simple novel that isn't too heavy for the eyes, it's the only shelf we've got books in unfortunately...

MAHOGANY SHELF 𐃘 angst, usually will not have an ounce of happiness within them– but that should be obvious enough in it's name. that dimwit of an author better hurry with their proofreading, gosh... we need to add more variety to our library.

EBONY SHELF 𐃘 smut, with how slow production is I hardly think we'll even get one book in here. who knows? only time will tell us.

shayli's ted talk: 3 more drafts to finish i think i can do this chat!! on a more serious note i think im gonna disappear again i hope all my 15 followers will miss me💔

#written by shayliᥫ᭡

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ssareiids · 10 days ago

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HIIII OMGGMG i love ur theme its sauurr cutesie i love it!1!1 i wasnt sure if you take requests or not so feel free to ignore this erm.💔💔

i was wonderign if u could write for spencer reid (PLEASEPLEASPLESE) like definitelt domestic fluff and like it's the two of them baking and uh it goes wrong but reader and spence just giggle like idiots at the mess they made

SWEET ON U!

pairing: s2! spencer x reader

summary: spencer and you both excel in many things in life– just... not baking.

tw/cw: if you're scared of fluff then back off /j LITERALLY NOTHING TO ADD AS A TRIGGER, if smth does count as a trigger here though please tell me.. probably innacuracies in the baking, sorry bakers i had google and a dream

shayli's ted talk: guys i swear i've been writing since my casey oneshot it's just that i'm... i'm employed now🙁.. also I LOVE YEW ANON, guys request things plz... im going through a writer's slump . we dont mention the dilauded here he's happy okay

Today was one of the days that God– or whatever being that resided in the clouds, gave Spencer a day off.

Well, it was more like the day off was forced on him. If you knew Spencer Reid, you knew he didn't take vacations, didn't use up sick days, and would probably win an award for perfect attendance if it existed for the FBI. He had denied himself of a freedom office workers would love to have, up until this very moment.

Hotch has made his words clear, and easy to understand.

"Take a day off, Reid."

Said in that same poker face Hotch always wore, the one that was burned into his eyes with how often he saw it. It was rare for the Unit chief to ever smile, and when he did, no one would be there to see it.

Getting back on track though...

You had a much more positive reaction to his day off, it may only be one day of freedom from case files and coffee mugs that were filled with a caffeine that bordered nowhere near luxury. But you would take it, you just didn't know what to do with it.

When he had first informed you of his day off, you had been overjoyed at the fact you'd finally have your boyfriend to yourself instead of playing a never ending tug of war between the job and you.

The excitement quickly faded when you realized.

You had no idea what to do with him.

I mean, you could just cuddle up all day and sleep the entire day away. But, that wasted alot of time, time that you and Spencer rarely had together.

You then wondered if you should ask him what he wanted to do, but unfortunately, ever since the two of you had begun this relationship– Spencer follows behind you everytime.

Literally and figuratively.

His half awake mind had once followed you to the kitchen when you woke up to go get a glass of water, and let me tell you. Seeing a 6' foot man behind you at 2:00 AM does things to you, and not the good type. You screamed and he screamed back, both in fear.

You knew that he'd go along with whatever shenanigans you had in mind for your couple bonding time, so you brainstorm, maybe not as fast as your boyfriend but you think.

You sit on the couch, criss cross applesauce, while looking down onto the floor. Eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as you scour the files of your mind for an idea on how to spend this rare Saturday.

"You look like me" Spencer tries to joke, it falls flat and slams face first into the floor when you don't respond. Too lost in the rabbit hole you've created to try and say something witty back.

Spencer furrows his eyebrows too, and approaches you warily– slowly, like you were some sort of threat he had to neutralize before sitting down next to you on the couch. "... Are you okay..?" He probes, trying to see if his profiling mind can do him any good in guessing what's up with you.

Then, as if the electrons– or atoms, whatever. Lined up in your brain to form the first idea that would suffice, you sat back up straight. A peaceful glint in your now not squinted eyes as you turn your head to face Spencer.

He looks confused, like... really really confused.

".. Love...?" He tries the pet name as if it would snap you back into reality, and you simply grab his hand before smiling at him.

"We are going to bake."

"... 'Kay."

As you had planned he had agreed to the idea without much second thought. Which was funny since he's so meticulous with the things in his life, maybe he's just gotten used to you bringing chaos into it.

You two had spent maybe about 30 minutes or so wondering what you should bake, you thankfully didn't need a search engine for ideas this time because Spencer was on board with being the recipe holder.

"How about chocolate chip cookies?"

"We don't have chocolate chips."

He responds curtly and you snort before rolling your eyes at him.

"I wonder who's fault is that.." You reply back, and he opens his mouth in protest, but he never actually says anything back knowing that you're right. Giving him a smug grin that said "Exactly."

"How about a Pie?"

"Well... I suppose we do have the ingredients for a normal pie, but we'll also need a variety of fruits, maybe more chocolate, and–"

"SPENCER."

"Okay, let's make a pie."

The two of you retire to your kitchen, getting all the baking necessities and tools out. You didn't even know he had all this stuff in his apartment, and when you asked he said they came with the place when he moved in.

You two learn alot of things about each other through small talk while trying not to get shells in the mixture when cracking the eggs.

You learn that Spencer has a sweet tooth, but you figured that out when you caught him putting 4 packets of sugar into his morning coffee.

Spencer learns that you almost broke your jaw on a jawbreaker once when you were 16, he furrowed his eyebrows and asked why you did it knowing it was called a jawbreaker.

You learn that Spencer has read your favourite book approximately 143 times and counting. You nearly teared up and almost got your salty tears in the melted chocolate.

And Spencer learns that you had a pet chameleon who ran away. He suggested it could still be in the house but just camoflauged, and you threw the cupful of flour at him.

You both stand there in silence, unmoving, like a showdown between 2 cowboys with only flour and sugar at their hands.

Spencer stands there, ruffled in the white powder that now adorns his pyjamas like snow, his face covered in so much of it he nearly looked like a ghost. He only reacts when you start laughing.

You don't laugh gently, or chuckle at the sight. No you laugh like you've just seen the most funniest thing in your life, and in a way... it kind of was. You hold onto the counter and hunch over, laughing like you were hysterical.

He looks over to his back, trying to find a weapon to launch back at you until he lands on the melted chocolate sauce, he glances back at you. Completely unaware of his plans before reaching his finger towards it, ew.. but it'll be worth it.

Once his finger is coated in the gooey sweet treat, he smudges it on your cheek, not carefully nor affectionately, he rubs it on your cheek– shamelessly.

You look up at him and pause your laughter, a look of faux offense swirling in your eyes as you try and find something to retaliate against him.

The innocent unbaked pie crust on the pan lay there, unaware of it's fate to come as you peel it off ready to lunge it at him. Spencer reacts just as fast though and gets his own piece of the pie crust

"Uh uh, don't you dare." Spencer says, raising his piece of pie crust like it was a shield against yours. You squint your eyes as if in focus before flicking your share of the pie crust at him.

He dodges, barely, before trying to swat you with his own. You jump back and almost bump into the kitchen island before grinning and reaching for an egg.

"I have a weapon and I am not afraid to use it!" You reply, holding the egg at him as if it was a knife, Spencer plays along and drops his pie crust onto the floor and raises his hands into the air "Ok! Ok! I surrender!" He says, his voice squeaky in defeat.

You two eventually agree to a ceasefire before getting to work on recreating the pie crust that you two had used in your food fight.

This time you work in silence, a comfortable one that came easy after the little playful banter you just had, you worked better this time since you both had gotten used on how to start and how to use all the baking tools.

After the pie crust had been filled with the melted chocolate and had been sent away to the oven, you two both fall back onto the couch.

Or it's more like you land on the couch and Spencer lands on you.

"Ah– hey!"

You shout when you feel his body weight practically jump on you, he grins toothily in his little victory when you let him stay ontop of you, knowing that you really didn't mind.

The two of you sit there in silence, waiting for the timer above the stove to ding so you both can try out your creation, there isn't much conversation.

But you didn't need to talk, your touches on his carefully done hair, and his head buried into your neck spoke enough of the love that blossomed nicely between you two. It got you thinking.

It had you imagining what you would be doing if you never met Spencer, if you never had a sudden surge of confidence to ask the pretty boy at the library out, or if he had rejected you. It had you wondering what fate held for you, the idea of fate itself.

DING! DING! DING!

You nearly push Spencer off of you when you hear the alarm's call, apologizing hurriedly before rushing along to the oven, with Spencer following right behind you, even if he was in the middle of having a very good nap.

He grabs you the oven mittens and urges you to be the one to get the pie, you don't question it, he was clumsy with his hands– half awake or not.

The oven door opens like the gates to heaven, in it's wake an aroma of chocolate and sweetness follows, sending you and Spencer into a momentary trance before you finally get it out of the heated space.

You both try to reach for it until you remember the thing is still... extremely hot.

Neither of you have the patience to wait for the sweet treat, so you leave it out on the fire exit, hoping that the windy breeze of the night cools it down enough, and that there aren't any pie swipers nearby.

The two of you giggle like little kids waiting for the smoke of the pie to dissipate and the heat to finally turn cool. When Spencer announces it's been 15 minutes, you finally grab it back into the safety of your home.

The sound of plates being taken from the dish rack and a knife being taken fills the kitchen alongside your giddiness, you bring it onto the counter with an eagerly waiting Spencer with a knife.

"You sure you can cut it?"

"I'm not 6."

He replies stubbornly before squinting his eyes and focusing on the slice he's about to cut, you look away to pass time as he cuts his own slice, but then look back when you see that he's taking... forever.

"Spence?" You ask when you see he hasn't even made an indent on the pie, raising an eyebrow when you see the focused glint in his eyes usually reserved for crime scenes and cases– not for cutting a pie.

"Shh..." He hushes you with a raised finger before finally making the cut, clean and simple, before handing it to you.

"I cut the pie for you in pi." He says proudly, as the joke flies over your head, which is usually supposed to happen to Spencer, not to you.

"... What?"

"You just don't get it." He shoos you away from the thought with a gesture of his hands.

extra:

"Hey, Spence.. about your joke earlier." You bring it up as the two of you lay in bed, social battery well drained after the events of today.

He only hums in acknowledgement of your conversation starter before allowing you to continue.

"Did you try cutting it for me.. in the size of pi or something? Like... pi as in the number..?"

"ты никогда не узнаешь."

"STOP DOING THAT."

shayli's ted talk: i used google translate for the russian so don't judge me... heh.. ok bye i'm gonna disappear and not write for another month.. maybe..

written by @ssareiids

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #doctor spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #written by shayliᥫ᭡

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ssareiids · 2 months ago

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SWINGIN' AND SWOONING

pairing : s5 casey novak x svu detective! reader

tw/cw: silly svu team shenanigans, unestablished relationship (sorry:p), pining from reader.. ig?

summary: you let it slip during a conversation at the precinct that you've never played baseball once in your life, and casey's determined to do something about that

shayli's ted talk: you can read this as any pov but i had fem reader in mind while writing this, sesbian lex for the win wooo!! also i miss redheaded casey so this is me coping. i also have no idea how baseball works!!

"What's your favourite part of the job?"

A question that has been asked to you many times, the one variable that remains constant in every conversation, is why you willingly chose to work in such dangerous field.

Usually, you'd say that it was for the feeling of relief, the feeling that you made a difference in this cruel dark world. That nothing could compare to the sensation of bringing sunshine to someone who felt like they lost the light at the end of the tunnel, all because of the crimes folks commit everyday.

Some other day, you'd say that you didn't have a favourite part. Brush off the topic and claim it to be something sensitive– which in truth, it completely is. Nobody should have to endure the crimes you are paid to solve everyday, let alone even hear about what dark things humans are capable of.

But everyday, without a glimmer of doubt, your favourite part is the afterglow of all these events. The smile returning to the victims' expressions as the jury announces "Guilty." followed with everyone's tensed muscles finally relaxing. You loved it, you loved the little banter the team shared while winding down at the precinct, signing away at some paperwork– eager to get back home and just sleep

"Come on, you telling me you've never played a sport?" Elliot's voice rings through the now quiet precinct, as if the building itself falls asleep just like humans do too. You simply shake your head no in laughter and Elliot refuses to believe it.

"Football?"

"Nope."

"Really? How about basketball?"

"Not in a million years Stabler."

"Baseball?"

"I don't even know how the game works dude."

You huff out, in annoyance and in amusement, at how taken aback Elliot is with your lack of a sporty side. Eventually giving in with a gesture of surrender before diving back into paperwork, the one that Cragen insisted the entire team do before it begins piling up like the next skyscraper.

Olivia simply shakes her head with hushed laughter as her pen scribbles away, you giggle to yourself aswell before turning back to the papers. 'Ugh, not my favourite part of the job.' You groan to yourself before hurrying along with your share of the writing task.

The clock ticks ominously in the silence of the precinct. tick... tock... tick... tock.. tick... tock-

"Ah.. finally."

Olivia is the first one to finish her slice of the pie. Stretching in her seat before basking in her victory and leaving you all in the dust. Fin scoffs, murmuring something underneath his breath that you can't make out, probably another dumb joke only he could conjure with his silly mind.

You're the second person to finish up, practically jolting up in your seat like an excited middle schooler before packing your things. Gloating your newfound freedom just a little too much, which results in Munch sending a paper airplane right to your face. You only scrunch at it before throwing it back to him, it misses terribly and lands in some dark corner of the precinct.

"Gotta practice on that aim aye, can't have you walking around with that hand-eye coordination." Fin jokes, leaving you to roll your eyes before walking away to the exit. Mid-way through your red carpet to the car, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Hand instinctively reaching for your holster only to see Casey behind you.

"Old habits die hard, huh?" She comments on the instinct with a grin, and you only smile sheepishly in response to the teasing. "Yeah, sorry. How can I help you Novak?" You try to ignore the embarrassing moment just seconds ago, nonchalance isn't a good look on you unfortunately.

"Just wanted to ask you about something." Casey begins, stepping closer to your figure. Wow, she's kinda tall‐ haha.. wait what??

"Were you serious when you had no idea about baseball?"

The question echoes through the hallways just a second too long, you kind of look stupid right now just standing there. Eventually straightening your posture, you let your confidence wash back to you before answering "Yeah, never was a sporty one growing up, why?"

She begins walking to the parking lot, and you follow right behind her like a lost duckling before she replies to you. "Was just wondering." A vague response, you question if she had anything else planned for this conversation.

"Well, goodnight Nova–"

"Would you like me to teach you?"

She blurts it out like it's nothing, rolling off her tongue so casually it has you feeling things, it has you feeling like it was everything. You contemplate it for a second while walking beside her, and you really wish she wouldn't find her car to let this conversation go on forever.

"Oh, well, only if it's not a hassle" You laugh, as if the sound would exhale the anxious feeling in your chest, it doesnt. She only looks at you with the look that told you "Nothing is too much of a hassle for me."

Her eyes alone tell you everything you need to know, so you grin nervously once more before continuing. "I'm free on.. uh Saturday, could we do it then?" God, you feel like a teenager asking their crush out, which you kind of were doing right now.

"Saturday's perfect."

She confirms the date before stepping into her car, you give her a dumb wave as she puts it in reverse and drives away like you can't do anything else. Looking into the concrete walls with a satisfied glint in your eyes, until-

"Wait... where the hell did I park my car?"

"Come on detective! You can do better than that!"

Casey yells out to you from the field, while you look absolutely hopeless and want to give up. Yeah... sports is not your thing, maybe running could be, but that's only because you chase perps for a living. You'd never torture yourself like that with such streneous activity purposefully.

She made you try out being a batter, since being a catcher didn't work out, neither did pitcher... and any of the other roles that existed in this weird sport.

Seriously, why are there so many roles?

"Novak, I.. really don't think this is for me-" You huff in exhaustion, the sun unfortunately gracing your skin with a layer of sweat from the intense weather. Maybe this could've been pushed back to another season atleast, but only an opportunity like this comes once a green moon– and green moons don't even exist!

"Where's that spirit detective! Come on! 3 more!"

She barks at you before preparing to hurl the ball towards you. The first time she threw it, you dodged the ball completely. Second time, you flinched away from it and covered your head. The third time (and the only time where you were hyped up), you missed it so horribly bad you felt you might actually combust.

The green ball comes straight for you after she finally lets it swing free from her grip, you steady your hold on the bat, focusing right on the ball just like she had instructed you to do so. Narrowing your eyes in steady concentration as you anticipated the ball's location and swinging your bat.

Whoosh.

You don't hear the sound of the ball coming into contact with the metal bat, and you only sigh in defeat once more. Loosening up your posture, feeling completely and utterly stupid doing this. Maybe you should just stick to crime-solving and coffee machines.

"Oh, don't tell me you're losing your fire! Come on!"

Her attempts at hyping you up don't work better than the last, but the sound of her voice alone is enough to get you to pick up the bat and ready yourself once again. God, this is so stupid...

She swings her arm in preparation once more, you steady yourself into the posture she taught you earlier on in the lesson. Focusing once more on the ball with the same precision you had while trying to connect the dots on the case...

Whoosh

Clunk!

You stand still in disbelief that you had really done that. That you, the person who was never captain of any sports team– let alone a member, had actually done that. You only snap out of your proud daze when Casey yells at you to run. Right! How could you forget that!

You run past each plate, your breath huffing with each one that you pass. Your legs ache, and your heart beats crazy fast, yet you push through it. Running, and running until finally, you complete the whole lap. Huffing and puffing, trying to catch your breath

"Mmm, not bad.." She pipes up while walking towards your hunched over figure, still trying to return your lungs back to their regular breathing rythym. When your heartbeat finally stills to the norm, and your breathing doesn't sound like you've been drowning. You look up at her with a grin, squinting your eyes at the sharp glare of the sun.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously, come on. Get up, 5 more!"

"What? You said only 3 more!"

shayli's ted talk: how do we feel about my first work heh... IT'S SO SHORT I HATE IT BUT I CANT PHYSICALLY WRITE MORE.

written by @ssareiids

#casey novak #casey novak fluff #casey novak x reader #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit #casey novak x you #casey novak x female reader #casey novak fanfic #casey novak imagine #special victims unit #svu x reader #law and order x reader #svu fanfiction #casey novak x y/n #written by shayliᥫ᭡

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ssareiids · 2 months ago

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THE CHATEAU OF SHAYLI

or... in simpler words, my pinned post! ˚ 🦢 　✦　　　.　　. ˚　.　　　　　

𓏲 9teen , she | her , pansexual , criminal minds ♡ , enfp

.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙ reqs open (send an ask!) , law and order ♡ ,

written by jeff buckley and spencer reid 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 , 9-1-1 ♡ 𝄢

house m.d ♡ , i tend to procrastinate and disappear often 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

english is not my first nor second language .ᐟ˙ ⠀ ୨୧ ✦　　. .

currently writing : n/a at the moment, sorry.ᐟ ˖.˚𝄞.

library of shayli . rules (unwritten/not done)

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ssareiids · 2 months ago

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Obsessive!Reader Blurb

A/n: I couldn’t think of a proper ending or anything so i decided to leave it as it is and classify it as a blurb☝️🤓

side note i also like just started criminal minds I’ve never seen it lol, so forgive me if its shit i only know matt from a few movies.

uh enjoy i may or may not consider doing another part but idk yet

You didn’t know how to stop the growing infatuation with your coworker. Maybe it was the slight exhaustion that paints Spencer's face when he looks over the reports on his desk, probably the way he furrows his brows when he’s thinking too hard–or it was the way the pitch in his voice would raise when given the opportunity to speak about his favorite things.

Nothing made sense if he wasn’t looking at you, speaking to you, giving you any ounce of his attention.

It started with glances from across the room, you were supposed to be working on reports but Spencer was making coffee and talking to Morgan–But why was he giving all his attention to him? Why wasn’t he talking to you? What’s so important that Morgan had to talk to him now? Your grip on the reports tightened crumpling the papers.

The glances weren’t enough, you knew they would get old after a while–Especially when the glances turned to stares and the team started to take notice. With the sudden attention on you from almost everyone but him, you grew more desperate for his eyes on nobody but you.

You knew this was wrong.

For christ sake you hunt these types of people down–and still you waited around after everyone else cleared out. Watching. Waiting. Then he came out, he went straight for his car without even glancing in your direction.

Didn’t he notice you parked in the darkness waiting for him?

Rejection. You were right there, watching his every move and yet his eyes never went in your direction. He didn’t acknowledge you–so when he pulled out the parking lot and started down the road home.. You followed.

You followed from a distance trying not to draw attention to yourself. Your heart was pounding out so hard you could hear it in your ears, the radio drowned out as your grip tightened on the wheel. Your whole body felt like it was vibrating as you drove then– he turned.

You’d lose him now if you didn’t speed up. So you pushed on the gas a bit more and made the same turn.

Where is he?

Your eyes scanned the road as you slowed down, it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds since he turned so where did he go?

He was gone.

His car was nowhere in sight.

This only caused desperation to take over, but it was already too late. You pulled over for a second trying to collect yourself. This was wrong, it was all wrong. But it was his fault. If he wasn’t so careless you wouldn’t even have the chance to follow him, if he paid more attention to his surroundings he would’ve noticed the way you watch him, If he wasn’t so kind to you he would’ve noticed the scribbles of his name in your notebook.

—--------

You drove home feeling defeated. Was this anger? Sadness? You couldn’t place your feelings as you pulled into your complex parking lot, you lazily parked your car at the far end before putting your forehead on the wheel. A few minutes pass and the silence of the night begins to eat at you, snatching up your bag from the passenger as you slide out the car.

Filled with defeat you drag yourself into the building, lazily bringing your keys to the scanner to open the door. Letting the door slam as you make your way straight down the hall, fumbling with your keys you take a turn down another hall trying to grab your apartment key. Tossing your bag on your shoulder as you reach the door wasting no time to unlock it, pushing inside with a soft groan you toss the bag onto the floor.

Slipping out your shoes you can’t help but notice the small draft in the room, shutting the door and scanning the room. Did you leave the windows cracked open? Odd. Usually this would set off an alarm in anyone's head–But your mind was elsewhere filled with nothing but him.

You drag yourself to your room, flicking the switch by your doorway and you stop in your tracks. When did the light go out? You raise a brow at this–You could’ve swore it was working this morning.

“Apartment break-ins are far less likely than house break-ins, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t lock your windows.”

You froze.

“Especially if you live on the first floor.”

Your eyes are wide, finally noticing the shadow by your bedroom window. A tall, slender man stood in your room–You recognized him almost immediately, the dark hid his features but you’d recognize his voice anywhere.

“Spencer?”

BOO

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #fan fiction #x reader #blurb #sid’s impala #fanfic #spencer reid fic rec #spencer reid criminal minds #WOWIE!!!#this was so good wtflip #PART 2 WHEN????

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ssareiids · 2 months ago

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BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction.

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat.

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations.

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.”

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there.

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?”

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official.

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment.

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games.

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time.

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either.

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics.

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side.

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised.

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you.

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over.

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you.

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room.

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests.

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled.

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one.

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it.

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.”

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately.

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had.

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of.

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white.

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness.

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her.

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you.

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you.

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return.

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye.

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go.

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath.

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you.

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass.

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course.

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate.

Men did love a little attention, after all.

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down.

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar.

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere.

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed.

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch.

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone.

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through.

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat.

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low.

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover.

Until, Theo spoke up.

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you.

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth.

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from.

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair.

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend.

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after.

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know.

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one.

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk.

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return.

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing.

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night.

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered.

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you.

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment.

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.”

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them.

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…”

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away.

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip.

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents.

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment.

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.”

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps.

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye.

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you.

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features.

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all.

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news.

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more.

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted.

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes.

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats.

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left.

“Where are we going, Dray?”

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice.

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food.

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face.

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile.

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow.

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!”

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side.

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.”

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.”

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.”

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy/reader #draco malfoy/you #harry potter #slytherin boys #tom felton #draco malfoy x y/n #just wow #i love this

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ssareiids · 2 months ago

Text

The Alchemy | D.M.

summary: Although Draco promised that he would keep your relationship a secret just for you, he can’t contain himself after winning the Hogwarts quidditch cup.

pairing: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader

includes: FLUFF, established relationship (and a last name of Evergreen for the reader)

a/n: inspired by the olympics recently ❤️

When Draco asked you out in fourth year, you thought it was a joke. Sure, you were both acquainted due to your pure wizardry bloodline, but you were in Hufflepuff. The only time the other houses thought you were useful was when they wanted to sneak into the kitchen. So when he came up and sat down beside you when you were studying potions, you were disheartened.

“Malfoy, please don’t do this.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You were just starting to understand what ingredients made a truth serum.

“Do what? I’m asking you if you want to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend.” He spun the Malfoy signet ring adorning his hand.

You look up at him with tired eyes, “Did someone put you up to this?”

“What? No no, I—“ He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at how you were able to fluster him with even a small glance. “I’m really asking you to go on a date with me.”

You search his face for any indication of a lie, before biting your lip softly and looking down at your parchment. “Are you really?”

“I am.” Draco dropped his hand onto yours to stop your fidgeting with the quill.

You felt your own face heat up at the notion. He thumbed your palm softly as you stayed quiet, not minding his closeness. Finally, you looked up at him, “You have yourself a date, Malfoy.” He sent you a soft smile but before he could say anything else, you interrupted. “Please don’t let me down.”

Draco never let you down. Despite your earlier doubts, you saw how kind and thoughtful the Malfoy heir was underneath his hardened shell his father had built around him. In private, he was always attentive, loving, clingy — there wasn’t a moment where he was separated from you. In public, he had to rein in those feelings just for you.

Even when you started your seventh year at Hogwarts, you were still terrified what others at school would say about a Hufflepuff dating the Slytherin Prince. Sure, his parents and your parents knew, but not the entirety of Hogwarts. You had asked Draco to keep your relationship private until you were ready to face the reality of your relationship to the rest of the world. He begrudgingly agreed, respecting your wishes; but the need to kiss you in front of the entire student body to rightly claim that you were his was wavering.

Especially when it had been three years since you first started dating. And right now, you were currently hiding below the stands together as you greeted him with good luck kisses for his final quidditch match as a student in Hogwarts.

“I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. You say softly as he holds you close by your hips — smiling into all your kisses. “Good.” Kiss. “Luck.” Kiss.

“You’re killing me here, love.” Draco murmurs against your lips. He pulls away gently to look at your ever so loving gaze. He draws small hearts on you hip, “You done?”

“Never.” You kiss him again, hands cupping his jaw. “I want you to be stuck with me forever.”

He hums into the kiss as you thumb his cheeks softly, “I will after I win this game, my love.”

You separate again, grinning like a lovesick puppy. “Good luck, Dray. I’ll see you later.” You press one last kiss to his lips before leaving his arms and running up the Hufflepuff stands to cheer. You couldn’t deny that even after all these years he still made you giddy and red.

Draco shook his head with a soft smile only you could coax out of him. He walked out from the stands and hopped on his broom, ready in the air for his final match as Slytherin’s seeker. Cheers filled the stadium as the players took their place, captains shaking hands.

The final match for Slytherin and Gryffindor was probably the most anticipated all year round. Since it was also Harry Potter’s last game as seeker, and the two seekers were known as rivals, it was hyped up to be one of the best end matches of the season.

As the game progressed, Slytherin and Gryffindor were constantly tied. It was really up to the seekers to find the golden snitch to determine the winner. There were bets taking place in the house stands, mind fixated on earning a few galleons for the last time. For the Hufflepuff stands, they were a house divided. Many cheered for scarlet and gold while the other half cheered for green and silver.

You didn’t mind the division between your house. After all, you only watched the games for Draco. Your friends were cheering for the Gryffindors whilst you carried the small Slytherin flag in your hands — eyes trained on the blonde high above the game itself. The second you blinked from the blazing sun, Draco was soaring after the golden snitch, Harry close behind and eventually flying right next to him.

The shouts from the stands only fueled the seekers’ attention to the flying gold. Draco and Harry were chasing in circles after the snitch, attention focused on nothing else even as the bludger zoomed past them.

You held your breath as they both reach out for the snitch. Your friend held your shoulder in anticipation, watching the two closely. Before you could register what happened, she gasped and shook your shoulders in frustration.

“I lost ten galleons to that!” She sighed heavily as Draco flashed the golden snitch in the air.

The rush of the win made you scream happily with the other Hufflepuffs and houses cheering for the Slytherin team. You wear clapping your hands as the team began flying around in victory. You watched as Draco flew around the stands more as the rest of the Slytherin team settled on the grounds. His eyes scanned the stadium until they lit up when they saw you at the very front of the Hufflepuff stands — waving your Slytherin flag with pride.

“Seems like Malfoy is off showing the last snitch he’ll catch for the Slytherin quidditch team! But we all want to know where the trophy is!” The third year announcer spoke, voice casted across the stadium.

You smiled at Draco softly when you finally met his eyes. And before you knew it, he flew right over to you and cupped your face, kissing you senselessly. You grinned into the kiss as you held his cheeks, the shouts and screams from your housemates blending in your ears.

“Aw, quite a beautiful way to celebrate the win. Don’t you think so, McGonagall? Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Malfoy and Evergreen— Ow, sorry.” The third year announcer spoke once more, rubbing the spot the professor lightly hit them with a newspaper.

You part from Draco with a blinding smile, “I think I agree, this is a beautiful way to celebrate.” You say quietly only for him to hear, pressing quick kisses to his lips.

“I’m proud of you, love.” Draco nudges your nose with his to gently stop your kisses for a second — even though he did want more.

“Me? You just won the quidditch cup for your house!” You laugh while wrapping your arms behind his neck, careful in trying not to pull him off his broom.

He rubbed the apples of your cheeks, “You just let me kiss you in front of the entire student body… I think that’s more important.” He pulled you in for another mind searing kiss, making you smile helplessly.

“AGAIN?” The third year announcer shouted into the microphone once more. “Is there—“

“Alright, we’re done announcing, boys and girls.” Professor McGonagall spoke and shut the speakers off; although she was quite happy for the couple.

You giggled as he pulled you into a hug. “I love you.”

Draco pressed kisses to your cheek repeatedly, “I love you more.”

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ssareiids · 2 months ago

Note

random thought but

draco is SUCH a sophisticated boyfriend, no doubt using his money to impress you...

also he's the type to constantly tease you about every little thing you do, and when you finally break, he's there to comfort you and apologize by buying you an entire flower shop or something

۶ৎ say that again, princess

Pairing: draco malfoy x reader Word Count: 852 words Summary: Draco Malfoy is a rich, refined menace—always teasing, always smug, and always five steps ahead with a credit limit that could end wars. When his teasing finally goes too far and leaves you hurt, he apologizes just as he does everything else—with class. Warnings: fem!reader; female-centric nicknames (princessl); teasing; suggestive tension; emotional overwhelm; Draco being an expensive menace; not proofread; let me know if i missed any! A/N: i love this and i had to write this.

♫ suburban legends by taylor swift.

Draco Malfoy had the audacity to be that boyfriend.

The tailored-coat, glass-of-scotch, private-box-at-the-Quidditch-stadium boyfriend. The I’ll have my tailor deliver it in two sizes, just in case boyfriend. The I noticed your perfume was running low so I bought the company boyfriend.

He kissed your fingers in public. Opened doors with casual grace. Had opinions about cutlery. You were convinced he’d made a Horcrux in every bottle of vintage wine he owned.

And Merlin, he loved to tease.

“Did you just gasp at a chandelier?”

“It’s just the way you eat strawberries—very... committed, my love.”

“Darling, are you flirting with the spaniel at the next table or is that just your resting face?”

You didn’t even mean to be sensitive about it. But the teasing never let up. Not mean. Not cruel. But constant. Sharp and smug and golden-tongued.

So when it happened—when you finally cracked—it took both of you by surprise.

It started after the last Malfoy Charity Gala. He’d spent the whole evening with his hand on the small of your back, murmuring clever little jabs in your ear while sipping champagne like the devil personified.

You’d smiled politely when he joked about your nervous laugh. Laughed tightly when he teased the way you stumbled over your words around his friends. Brushed it off when he smirked, “You’re lucky you’re pretty,” after you misquoted some Ministry headline.

You held it together all the way back to his penthouse.

Until you didn’t.

You were halfway through unzipping your gown when you snapped, voice sharper than you meant:

“Do you ever shut up and just let me exist without commentary?”

Draco froze, mid-loosened tie, watching you from across the room. “Excuse me?”

You blinked. Then immediately hated the way your throat tightened.

You dropped your dress and turned from him, standing in your slip with your arms crossed. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“No.” His voice was quiet now. Controlled. “Say it again.”

You clenched your jaw. “I’m tired, Draco.”

“Of me?”

You didn’t answer. Which, of course, was its own answer.

He exhaled, long and low, then crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps. “That wasn’t teasing,” he said softly, standing just behind you. “That last one. That was me being a bit of a prick.”

“Draco—”

“Don’t.” He touched your shoulder, then your waist, gently pulling you around to face him. His expression had shifted completely—gone was the smugness, replaced with a guilt you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You didn’t deserve that. None of it.”

You tried to deflect. “It’s fine—”

“It’s not,” he interrupted. “I’m used to being cruel and charming in equal measure, and you let me get away with too much because you’re... soft with me.” His hand slid down to yours. “I forget you’re still getting used to this world.”

You blinked. “This world?”

He gestured vaguely around the penthouse. The crystal and marble. The towering skyline outside. “All of this. Me.”

“You’re not a burden, Draco. You’re not an inconvenience that takes getting used to.”

“No,” he agreed, “I’m an arrogant bastard with more money than sense who flirts by antagonizing.”

You let out a shaky laugh despite yourself. “You said it, not me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, stepping closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ll do better.”

You nodded, letting yourself lean into him—into the familiar scent of his cologne, the soft wool of his shirt.

“And tomorrow,” he added, “we’re going shopping.”

You groaned. “If this is your way of fixing everything with diamonds—”

“No,” he said, voice smug again—but softer this time. “Not diamonds.”

The next day, you woke up to two very unexpected things:

A tray of breakfast with exactly how you like your eggs and tea.

A pair of designer flats in your size and a note: Wear these. We’re walking.

You groggily threw on the most comfortable outfit you could find and the shoes, and found Draco downstairs, waiting beside the fireplace in a turtleneck and coat that probably cost more than your rent. He grinned like a man with a secret.

“We’re not Apparating?” you asked, suspicious.

“Nope,” he said. “Too dramatic.”

He took your hand.

And walked you six blocks to a flower shop.

Correction: a flower shop with a SOLD sign on the door… and a bouquet in the window labeled “Reserved for the Girl Who Deserves Everything.”

You turned slowly. “Draco.”

He looked very proud of himself.

“You bought me... an entire shop.”

“Well, I bought it for you. That’s different.”

You gaped.

“Don’t worry,” he added, smirking, “You don’t have to run it. But you do get to take whatever you want. And I had them name a rose after you. The blush ones with the gold-tipped petals. Your favorite.”

You stared at him, jaw slack.

“Too much?” he asked, mock-thoughtful. “I debated a bookstore too, but I figured one act of emotional damage control at a time.”

You let out a laugh that ended in a sob and launched yourself into his arms.

“Gods, I hate you,” you mumbled into his coat.

He chuckled. “That’s fair.”

“And I love you.”

“Also fair.”

taglist !

@belovedenzo

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter series #harry potter fandom #lil's fics <3

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ssareiids · 2 months ago

Text

potter!reader x draco Summary: After a playful late-night duel with Draco, you win a bet and make him hold your hand in public for five seconds. Maybe a little longer than five.

“You’re going down, Malfoy.”

Your boyfriend's eyes glittered with amusement as he leaned against the desk, the dim glow of candlelight flickering across his sharp features. It was well past curfew, the castle eerily quiet around you, but that only added to the thrill. His wand dangled lazily between his fingers, smirk firmly in place.

“You always talk big, Potter. But let’s face it—you don’t stand a chance.”

You raised your wand, stepping into the center of the room, chin high. “Winner gets to make the loser do one thing. No questions asked.”

Draco’s smirk deepened. “One thing? Tempting. Hope you’re ready to embarrass yourself.”

“Confident for someone about to eat dust,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

He rolled his shoulders, stepping toward you. “Ready when you are.”

For a brief second, the room was dead silent except for your breaths—and then—

“Expelliarmus!”

“Protego!”

Sparks burst from your wands as your spells collided, crackling and ricocheting across the room. A chair tipped over; a stack of books went flying; parchment fluttered like birds. Both of you were laughing and ducking, adrenaline crackling between you. You saw your opening and seized it fast.

“Expelliarmus!”

Draco’s wand shot out of his hand, skidding across the floor with a sharp clatter.

You gasped, staring at his empty hand, and then a wide grin stretched across your face. “Yes! Yes! Did you see that? I won!”

Draco blinked, stunned, before groaning and tipping his head back. “No. No, no, no. I refuse to believe this.”

“Believe it, loser,” you said, practically bouncing on your feet. “Oh, this is so good.”

He narrowed his eyes, stepping forward and pointing a finger at you. “You must’ve cheated. There’s no way—”

“Uh-uh.” You waggled your own finger at him. “A deal’s a deal. No complaining, remember?”

He groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine. Get it over with. What horrible thing do you want from me ? Declare my undying love for you the middle of the Great Hall? Do your Potions essay?”

You smiled sweetly, stepping closer until you were inches away. “Hold my hand in public.”

He stared. “What?”

“For five seconds,” you added, enjoying the way his usual composure cracked. “Nothing crazy.”

Draco gawked at you like you’d grown two heads. “That’s your demand? Love, you could’ve had anything, and you chose… that?”

“Yup.”

He groaned again, rubbing his temples. “Merlin, you are insufferable.”

"But you still love me." You giggle as you peck his lips.

“Tomorrow,” you said, turning for the door. “Right in front of everyone.”

He muttered something under his breath, but you caught the faint smile tugging at his lips as you left.

The next morning, you spotted Draco exactly where you’d hoped—lingering near the entrance of the Great Hall, looking like he was regretting every life decision that had brought him here. He leaned against the wall, fidgeting with the cuff of his robe, eyes darting to the passing students.

“Aw, are you nervous?” you teased, stepping up beside him.

He scowled but there was a glint in his eyes. “This is humiliating. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

You grinned, holding out your hand expectantly. “Come on. Let’s get it over with.”

With an exaggerated sigh that probably carried across the entire corridor, Draco took your hand. His fingers were stiff at first—like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. This was the very first time you two were holding hands in public. But then, slowly, they relaxed, his grip growing warm and sure.

You both stood there, hand in hand, as students streamed past, some casting curious glances but saying nothing. You started to count under your breath.

“One… two… three…”

Draco’s thumb brushed yours lightly, and your heart gave an unexpected little flip.

“…four… five.”

You looked up at him, smiling. “Done.”

But Draco didn’t move to let go. He was staring ahead, pretending like this was the most normal thing in the world, but you caught the faintest blush creeping up his neck.

“Uh… Draco?” you murmured. “We’re… kind of done.”

He glanced down at your joined hands and smirked. “Hmm. Are we, though?”

Before you could even process that, a loud voice shattered the moment.

“GODRICS BEARD!"

Both of you spun around to see Harry Potter standing there, holding a plate of toast, his eyes bugging out like he’d walked into an alternate universe.

“WHY ARE YOU HOLDING HANDS WITH MALFOY?!”

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

A/N: I got lazy making my posts pretty lol.

masterlist!

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ssareiids · 2 months ago

Text

Afternoon Delight

Summary: You didn’t have sleep in mind when you asked Spencer to take a nap with you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut, Fluff

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Softdom!Spencer, praising, teasing, grinding, handjob, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

With a dramatic sigh you closed the laptop in front of you and stretched your arms over your head, announcing, “I need a break!”

Spencer looked up from his book to find your eyes. “Study breaks are very important. You’ll be able to focus a lot better afterwards,” he explained. “Do you want coffee?”

“No,” you said with a smirk forming on your face. “I wanna go lie down with you.”

Spencer obviously did not get the hint and declined, “I’m not tired but you can take a nap if you want.”

You got up from your desk to move over to the couch, sitting down right beside your boyfriend. In an instant you could feel the heat radiating from his body. It was almost ridiculous how much you craved his nearness, even after many months of spending most nights together. There was just something about him that almost drove you insane.

“Did you know that short naps are highly efficient and can help improve productivity. You just have to make sure not to sleep for too long,” he explained in his usual rambling manner. He was still oblivious about your true intentions.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded and winked at him. “What if I took my clothes off for my nap?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and thought about it for a split second. “Some studies suggest that sleeping naked can have a positive effect on your sleep quality. But knowing you, I’d assume you would get too cold to be comfortable.”

“So, would you help me get warm?” You chirped, hoping that he’d finally understand what you wanted.

His eyebrows furrowed at your question, obviously confused about what you were talking about. “I would,” he said, “but it’s probably easier if you just wore clothes, like you usually do when you sleep.”

Usually it didn’t take this long for Spencer to understand when you wanted him. He’d catch onto your playful tone or simply read your body language. He apparently really took your word for it when you told him earlier that you were determined to get your work done with zero distractions.

But even being in the same room as Spencer was more distracting than you could have ever imagined.

“Can I tell you a secret,” you snickered as you moved even closer to him. “I’m not really tired.”

The poor doctor looked at you more puzzled than ever. “Then why would you want to take a nap?”

There was barely any space between the two of you left at this point. It still took him a few more seconds to interpret your mischievous grin correctly.

“Oh!” He laughed. “You want to sleep with me.”

“Wow, I really need to work on my seduction skills,” you giggled while climbing into Spencer’s lap.

“You’re usually pretty good at it,” he chuckled.

He smiled against your lips when your mouths finally met. With more fervor than you had anticipated he started kissing you, while his hands pulled your hips even closer against his body. His tongue begged for entrance, joining yours in a dance that let heat rush through your entire body.

It only took a few more moments until you felt a familiar hardness straining against his pants.

You started to rock your hips ever so slightly while breathing against his lips, “Seems like it’s working.”

Your boyfriend leaned back to look at you. One of his hands found your face and his fingertips began tracing along your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “How could I ever refuse you anything?”

The hunger in his eyes only grew when a timid sigh fell from your lips. He watched intently as you kept grinding against him while the tension in your body only grew. His hardness twitched against your clothed core as you used his body for your own pleasure.

“So needy,” he purred as he watched you moving in his lap.

The friction your motions created was making you desperate but it wasn’t enough for you. Spencer knew that, too. He still wanted to see how long it would take you to start begging for him.

His fingertips were buried into the supple flesh of your hips, keeping you close to him as you started to struggle to keep moving. With your face buried into his neck, he could feel your hot, heavy breath against his skin.

It was too much and not enough for you at the same time. The lace of your underwear was soaked with your essence at this point. You felt like you might combust if you didn’t find release anytime soon.

“Please,” you finally whispered into his ear, desperate for him to take over.

“What is it, my sweet girl?” He chuckled as he leaned back to find your eyes. “What do you need?”

The smirk on his face revealed that he knew exactly what you needed. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Please… I need you,” you begged.

He found your lips in a kiss, soft and sweet like a silent promise to always take care of you. When he motioned for you to get off his lap, you whined at the loss of pressure against your center.

“I know, love,” he cooed. “Just be patient for me.”

Your legs felt weak when you stood in front of him, waiting for his next move. He got up from the couch and took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, where he slowly began undressing you. The second your bra dropped to the floor, his fingers began toying with your nipples. His thumbs brushed over your hardened peaks while he kissed you again.

You really tried to be good for him while he took care of you but it became almost too much. You took a few steps back to lean against the closest wall, your knees suddenly couldn’t be trusted to hold you upright anymore. Spencer followed without a comment, clearly enjoying witnessing your desperation.

His hands were still on your breasts, caressing them just the way he knew you liked. When his palms finally descended further down your body, a relieved sigh fell from your lips. He removed the remaining pieces of clothing until you stood completely nude in front of him.

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmured against your neck. “So patient with me.”

Hearing his praise aroused you even more and you could feel your desire dripping down your inner thighs. You knew it wouldn’t be long now until he’d let you feel him. He took a step back to let his eyes roam over your body while he undid the buttons of his shirt.

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled and noticed a rosy shade spreading over his cheeks as he kept undressing.

When he finally revealed his body to you, you could barely take your eyes off him. Closing the distance once more, your hand dared to make contact with his cock. Spencer’s eyes widened at your touch and it became obvious that he struggled to keep up his demeanor. He would never admit it but he was just as desperate as you were.

His hardness felt hot and heavy against your palm and his tip was already leaking when you began moving your hand. Spencer’s breath hitched right before a moan escaped his throat, a sound so sinful it almost drove you insane. He indulged in the sensation a few more moments before he took over the situation once more.

“Get on the bed,” he demanded with a firm tone and you did as he said.

However, when you lay down on the mattress he shook his head. “No, I want you on your knees.”

You didn’t need further instruction to know exactly how he wanted you. You turned around, got on your knees and bent over, your forearms pressing into the mattress. Heat rushed to your face when you took in the position he wanted you in, aware of the view you gave him.

He stood right behind you when he purred, “So pretty. I love seeing you like this.”

His hand made contact with your backside, grabbing your flesh before descending down to your cunt. Your glistening folds were so sensitive that your entire body trembled at the sudden contact. He let his fingertips glide through your slit before focussing on your already swollen nub.

“You’re dripping wet and I have barely touched you.”

You were already too far gone to even respond to that. A fit of moans fell from your lips and you buried your face into the sheets to stifle the sounds. Spencer’s free hand found your hair and gently tugged on it to turn your head.

“Don’t hide those beautiful moans from me. I want to hear what I do to you.”

When he finally entered you with two of his fingers, you couldn’t help but grind your hips back against his hand. He curled his digits inside you, pushing against your walls to finally help you fall over the edge. As much as you loved feeling his fingers inside of you, you were still desperate to feel more of him.

You needed all of him. It was impossible to wait any longer.

“Please,” you pleaded once more. “Please, Spencer.”

“What do you need, my love?” This time his question seemed genuine.

“I need you,” you mumbled. “Need you inside me.”

“I am inside you,” he teased with a playful tone in his voice.

“No,” you whined. “I need your cock!”

The crudeness of your words shocked and excited the both of you at the same time. Spencer finally gave in, granting you what you had been begging for all along. He removed his hand and positioned himself behind you before he let his tip glide through your folds to cover himself with your arousal.

Then, without another warning, he pushed into you with one swift motion. He didn’t give you time to adjust to the intrusion, instead he instantly began fucking you with a ruthless pace. His hands gripped your hips to keep you in place. His fingertips were buried into your skin so deeply, you were sure to find bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “Feels so good.”

He gave you exactly what you needed, pushing into you over and over again until your mind was completely blank. You couldn’t think about anything but him, how he handled your body, how he filled you out so deliciously, how only him could make you feel so good. The pressure inside you grew as the room filled with your moans and the filthy sounds of your bodies colliding.

“You love it when I take you from behind, don’t you my sweet girl?”

“Yes!” you cried as you started dancing along the brink of euphoria. Even though you could barely take his forceful thrusts, you still wanted more. “Harder!”

The entire bed shook under the force of his motions until he felt your walls tighten around him. With a few more skillful strokes he pushed you over the edge, feeling you pulsing around his erection as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer slowed down to let you ride out your high, watching how your entire body trembled with pleasure.

When he slipped out of you, he was still painfully hard. As pleasurable as this position was for the both of you, he craved your nearness more than to find quick release.

Spencer Reid was a romantic after all.

“Can you turn around for me, please,” he cooed.

You did as he said and welcomed your boyfriend on top of you. His demeanor had changed when he entered you again, his motions were slower but still purposeful. His facial features were soft and his eyes filled with adoration for you. You wrapped your legs and arms around him to keep him impossibly close before capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips.

“I love you more.”

It didn’t take long for Spencer’s movements to get erratic as he got close to his own climax.

“I’m so close,” he sighed. “You feel so good.”

You ground your hips against his, intensifying his thrusts. You kissed his lips once more before whispering, “Come inside me.”

That was all it took for him. His body began quivering as he throbbed inside you, sharing his warmth with you until he had nothing left to give. After he caught his breath, he gently moved a strand of hair out of your face before softly kissing your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and finally, your lips.

You still held him close inside your arms, refusing to let him go just yet. Your bodies were still connected even after he had gone soft. Spencer tried to move but you didn’t let him, still craving to have him close.

“Just a little bit longer,” you sighed.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

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