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therealbeachfox · 7 months

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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akai-anna · 4 months

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i've been meaning to say for some time now (and now that i had a hard time remembering the word "sober" in english thanks to consuming a certain amount of alcoholic beverages actually doing it) but for everyone who i expecting a reply from me:

i'm sorry it's taking so long, my life's got hijacked by responsibilities and general family matters, which leave me with like 1 free hour (or less) in a day, so.

thank you for your patience, please wait for me a little more *wide puppy eyes look*

#la junk talks #sorry i'm just too busy #my weeks have been full weekends included for... i think this is the 3rd week? or just the second????#it's hard to keep track of #also heck yeah to me drinking enough to 1) having a hard time remembering what is the word for ''józan'' in english #(still remembered in the end but it took much longer than it should have)#2) today i finally managed to sit down in front of my laptop before 8 PM!!!! (barely)#also ADHD and alcohol doesn't mix well #in a way. in another they are good #as in: it's hard to remember stuff (literally forgetting what i wanted to do in 3 seconds)#(literal Goldfish Brain Curse)#but it also makes me start on stuff easier #anyways hi to all!!!! it has been a while #it's surprising i still remember how to speak english but here i am lmao #(hopefully tomorrow i'll have some time for replies pls universe)#(let the planets align so i can talk to my friends)

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trailblczer · 1 year

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evercrisis invite if you want to add!

i'll probably add hsr & genshin profile later.

#( finally got it to work.. )#( not sure if theres an option to take data from the beta test bc i got the 6 star stuff for cloud )#( now have to do it again ckdjdjf )#( weekend's almost here;; then i can work on replies )#;; ff: evercrisis #╰┈➤ 🐺 ❝ [ ꜱᴏʟᴇᴍɴ ʜᴏᴡʟꜱ. ] ... || ooc.

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pucksandpower · 8 months

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The Girlfriend Test

Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: no new LN merch is deemed ready for sale unless it passes the girlfriend test (or in which you are Lando’s favorite hoodie thief and the sight of another driver’s brand on you drives him just a little bit crazy)

You hear the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of Lando rummaging around in the entryway. “Babe, I’m home!” He calls out.

You’re curled up on the couch in his latest hoodie design, a soft charcoal grey number with black sleeves and his LN logo embroidered over the heart.

“In here!” You reply. Lando comes into the living room and smiles when he sees you wearing his new creation.

“Well hello there, hoodie thief,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before flopping down on the couch next to you. “So I see you found my newest sample.”

You grin and snuggle further into the super soft fleece. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my hoodie now.”

Lando laughs and tugs lightly on the hood. “Oh is it now? I could’ve sworn this was a prototype I brought home from my design meeting a few days ago.”

“Nope, definitely mine,” you say cheekily. “It’s so cozy I don’t think I can ever take it off.”

“In that case, I guess it passes the girlfriend test with flying colors,” Lando declares. At your confused look, he elaborates. “Oh, I never told you about the girlfriend test? I can’t launch a new LN design until you have stolen it out of my closet. That’s how I know for sure it’s comfy enough for my fans.”

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re telling me every hoodie so far has passed this supposed test?”

“You got it,” Lando grins. “I’ll leave the samples laying around and if you end up snagging one and wearing it all the time, I know it’s prime merchandise.”

You think back and realize it’s true — Lando’s hoodies have a habit of migrating into your wardrobe. The papaya one is your go-to for grocery store runs. The tie-dye version is your favorite for lazy Sundays. Even the bold purple hoodie he released last month has already earned a permanent place on your desk chair.

“So you mean to tell me this was all part of your master plan?” You ask in mock offense. “And here I thought I was sneakily stealing your comfiest clothes.”

“Baby, if I really didn’t want you wearing my stuff, I wouldn’t make it so tempting to take,” Lando says sincerely, wrapping an arm around you. “But it makes me so happy to see you in my designs, wearing my brand.”

You cuddle into his shoulder. “That’s really sweet, babe.”

“Anything for my number one fan and favorite hoodie model,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You snuggle together in contented silence for a few minutes, your head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“So, how was the simulator today?” You ask. “Get some good practice in for Monza this weekend?”

Lando nods. “Yeah, had a really solid session. Tweaked a few things with the setup that I think will help with the low downforce.”

“Nice,” you say. “Maybe another podium this week?”

“We’ll see,” Lando replies. “Ferrari looked quick in Spa so it could be tough. But I feel good going into the weekend.”

“Well, I know you’ll kill it babe,” you say supportively. Lando smiles gratefully and pulls you closer.

“But anyway, enough about F1. How was your day off?” He asks.

You launch into a recap of your relaxed day — sleeping in, catching up on chores, and working on some creative projects you’ve had on the backburner. Lando listens intently, asking questions and commenting on the new songs and recipes you’re dying to try. The conversation flows easily, as it always does between you two.

Before you know it, Lando’s stomach rumbles loudly and you both crack up. “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” you say, checking your phone. “Pizza sound good?”

“You read my mind,” Lando replies. While you call in the usual order from your favorite local pizza joint, Lando queues up Netflix and scrolls through options for tonight’s viewing.

Thirty minutes later you’re back on the couch, the coffee table littered with pizza boxes and cans of soda. Lando hits play on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and you settle in, toes tucked under his legs to stay cozy.

You’re only halfway through the episode when you feel Lando’s gaze on you. You turn and find him staring at you wearing his newest hoodie creation, a small smile on his lips.

“What’s that look for?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.

Lando shakes his head, the smile growing wider. “Nothing really. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head curiously and he continues. “I have my dream job, getting to race cars for a living. And then I come home to you and … I don’t know. It just feels really good. Like everything is kind of falling into place.”

You set down your pizza slice and cuddle up to him. “Aww babe. That’s so sweet.” You give him a greasy kiss on the cheek. “I’m the lucky one you know. I get to see you living your dream every day. And then I get to be here to celebrate the wins with you and cheer you up after the tough days. It’s pretty amazing.”

Lando wraps both arms around you in a hug. “Love you so much,” he says softly.

“Love you more,” you whisper back, your head tucked perfectly under his chin once again.

***

The next evening, you’re sprawled across the bed browsing on your phone when you hear Lando come home.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out in a sing-song voice. You grin, expecting him to come give you a kiss. But instead you hear his footsteps stop abruptly.

“Babe, what … is that?” Lando asks slowly.

You look up confused. “What do you mea-”

Then you spot what he’s staring at in horror: the soft teal hoodie you’re wearing with an embroidered Enchanté logo across the front.

“Oh this?” You say casually. “It’s from Daniel’s new merch drop. The fleece is so soft, I couldn’t resist snagging one.”

Lando’s jaw drops open. “You … you bought a hoodie? From a competing merch brand?”

You stifle a laugh at how seriously Lando is taking this. “Well yeah, you gotta support your friends right? And I told you how comfy it looked in his posts.”

Lando just blinks slowly, looking utterly betrayed. You almost feel bad for riling him up.

“Babe, come on, don’t look at me like that! You know I’m your number one fan.” You get up and go to hug him, but Lando dodges you.

“Nope. No hugs until that … that enemy hoodie comes off,” he says dramatically.

Now you really have to hold back your laughter. “Lando, don’t be silly.”

But he crosses his arms and sticks his chin up. “I’m dead serious, Y/N. My own girlfriend, wearing another man’s merch!” He shakes his head in despair.

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his antics. Time to have some more fun with this.

“Well if you’re going to be like that, maybe I’ll just keep it on,” you say nonchalantly, snuggling back into the ridiculously soft fleece.

Lando’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

You raise your eyebrows challengingly. “Try me.”

You stare each other down for a few tense moments, before Lando huffs loudly.

“Fine then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” And with that ominous statement, he lunges forward and lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Lando!” You shriek through laughter. “Put me down!”

But he marches down the hall determinedly, you still slung over his shoulder. He brings you into the living room and gently tosses you onto the couch. Before you can react, he rips the Enchanté hoodie up over your head in one swift move.

“Lando!” You squeal, trying to reach for the hoodie, but he’s quicker. In a flash, he has the offending article of clothing in his grip.

“How could you bring this … this enemy propaganda into our home?” Lando accuses dramatically. He holds the hoodie between two fingers like it’s contaminated.

You have to press a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. Lando looks utterly scandalized at the sight of you in his rival’s merch.

“I’m sorry babe, but you left me no choice,” Lando says solemnly. And with that, he crosses the room, opens the fireplace, and tosses the hoodie in.

You gasp loudly. “Lando Norris, did you just burn my hoodie?”

“I had to protect the sanctity of this home! Can’t have you falling for another man’s branding,” Lando exclaims. But you can see his facade cracking as he fights back a smile of his own.

You get up from the couch and poke him in the chest. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Maybe. But you love me.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight back your own smile. “Debatable at the moment,” you joke.

Lando pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “Come onnnn, you know I’m your favorite driver.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm well Daniel does give the best hugs ...”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims and tackles you into a bear hug. You dissolve into giggles as he squeezes you tight and sways you back and forth.

“Nope, absolutely not allowed,” he declares, still holding you captive.

You lean back to look up at him with a smile. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re my girl and I don’t share,” Lando states matter-of-factly. His eyes are soft now as he gazes down at you.

You feel your heart melt a little. You stand on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. “You’re right, I’m all yours Lando.”

His answering smile is dazzling. But then a thought seems to occur to him and a grin spreads across his face.

In one smooth motion, he strips off the neon green hoodie he’s wearing, leaving just a black t-shirt underneath. Before you can react, he pulls it down over your head, enveloping you in soft fleece that smells like him.

“There. That’s better,” Lando declares satisfied.

You snuggle happily into Lando’s worn hoodie, his warmth still lingering in the fabric. Looking down, you recognize it as the exclusive design he wore constantly last season.

Lando’s eyes crease with happiness as he looks at you swimming in his hoodie. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling you close again.

You nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content.

“Am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in loyalty?” You ask cheekily, peering up at him.

Lando pretends to consider this for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess I can let it slide this one time,” he teases back. “But only because you look so damn cute in my clothes.”

You smile and tighten your arms around him. You sway together slowly, Lando humming tunelessly under his breath. The fireplace crackles gently beside you.

After a few moments, Lando speaks again, his voice quiet. “You know I was only joking around before, right? You can wear whatever you want babe.”

You lean back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm but serious now.

You touch his cheek softly. “Of course I know that Lando. Your hoodies might be the comfiest, but they’re not the only clothes I own.”

Lando nods, looking relieved that you understand. “I just never want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your own style or interests.” His voice is earnest. “I want you to always feel free to be yourself.”

Your heart swells at his words. You reach up and kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, Lando is smiling again.

“Thanks babe,” you say. “That really means a lot to me. And same to you, obviously.”

Lando grins. “Of course, it’s you and me against the world! Oh, and McLaren against the other teams,” he adds cheekily.

You laugh and snuggle back into his chest. “Yes, McLaren over all,” you agree, just to make him happy.

“That’s my girl,” Lando says again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

3K notes · View notes

nevernonline · 21 days

Text

✧.* heartbreak girl; csc one shot.

synopsis: Seungcheol struggles with his feelings for his best friend, y/n, who is caught in a complicated relationship. As he watches her suffer from heartbreak, he finds it increasingly difficult to conceal his love for her.

paring: seungcheol x fem! reader.

genre:friends2lovers

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol) some minor sexy stuff, but not much really.

word count: 8.6k

content: . non-idol idolings, big brother Joshua. asshole boyfriends yk. Cheol is painfully in love.

note: non edited prob weird typos, xo.

Seungcheol stood outside the bustling café, the familiar sound of laughter and chatter spilling through the door like an intoxicating aroma. He had been meaning to meet his friends here for a while, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight. Instead, it felt heavy, aching at the thought of her—Y/n, his best friend and the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart.

They had grown up together, their lives intertwined like the branches of the old oak tree that sat as the bridge between their childhood bedrooms. Seungcheol had always been protective of y/n, watching from the sidelines as she navigated the ups and downs of her life. But just recently, something had shifted between them, a current of unspoken words and emotions that neither dared to acknowledge.

He pushed open the door and made his way through the crowd, scanning the room until his eyes landed on her. Y/n sat at a corner table, her hair cascading over her shoulders, lost in conversation with another friend. But Seungcheol could see it in her eyes—the flicker of worry, the slight downturn of her lips. He knew her better than anyone, and lately, she had seemed off.

His heart raced as he approached the table, steeling himself for the inevitable conversation. “Hey, Soojin, Y/n.” he greeted, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“Seungcheol! You made it!” Y/n exclaimed, the warmth of her voice wrapping around him like a comfort blanket. But as her expression shifted to one of concern, he could see the cracks behind her cheerful facade.

“You okay?” he asked, unable to hide the worry in his own voice.

“Yeah, just... a lot going on,” she said, brushing it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Seungcheol glanced at her friend, who seemed to sense the underlying tension and quickly excused herself. The moment of solitude felt charged, and Seungcheol knew they needed to talk.

“Listen, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me,” he urged, leaning forward. “I’m your friend, Bunny. I want to help.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just... Alex, dating has been, and it’s... complicated. I think he might be seeing someone else.”

Seungcheol remembered when Y/n first started dating her current partner, he was alright, nothing special compared to the girl who was standing in front of him.

past

When he first met y/n boyfriend she had just gotten back from college for the weekend as Seungcheol stepped onto her front lawn waiting inside patiently next to y/n’s brother Joshua, he was considering running down the sidewalk to her when a guy appeared out of the front seat to hug her mother. It was in a flash of a moment he knew this guy was her boyfriend.

Seungcheol's heart sank, but he tried impossible hard to maintain a composed exterior. He forced a smile and greeted y/n with a wave as she approached, her boyfriend trailing beside her. Joshua nudged Seungcheol gently, giving him an encouraging nod.

"Hey, Seungcheol!" y/n called out, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Bunny," Seungcheol replied, his voice steady. "How is school, my little scholar?"

"It’s been great, but I’ve missed home, especially your mom’s cooking," she said, glancing at her boyfriend. "Oh, Shit. I should introduce you! This is Alex."

Alex extended a hand towards Seungcheol. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Nice to meet you too," Seungcheol said, shaking his hand firmly. He noticed how Alex's grip was strong but not overbearing, a sign of confidence and respect.

The four of them stood there for a moment, the air filled with unspoken words. Joshua, sensing the tension, quickly suggested, "Why don't we all head inside? Mom made us some lemonade. Feel free to spike it yourself."

Of course they all agreed, and as they walked towards the house, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal a glance at y/n. She seemed happy, and that was what mattered most to him, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.

Inside, the house was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly squeezed lemon, probably just a room spray her mom thought would make her lemonade pop more, which helped make Cheol smile even more. y/n's mother greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with joy at having her two kids home. The group settled into the cozy living room, the atmosphere gradually easing into one of laughter and shared stories.

Seungcheol listened intently, contributing when he could, but mostly observing the dynamics between y/n and Alex. He noticed the small gestures of affection, the way they seemed to understand each other with just a glance. It was clear they shared a deep connection.

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol felt a mix of emotions. There was an undeniable pang of that little green monster creeping in, but also a sense of acceptance. He realized that y/n's happiness was the most important thing, and if Alex was the one who brought that to her, then he would do his best to support her wholeheartedly.

Later, after many sneaks to Joshua’s hidden liquor, too many slices of pizza, and card games, they all stood on the porch saying their goodbyes, y/n gave Seungcheol a tight hug. "It really is good to see you, Seungcheol. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't," he promised, his voice sincere. "Take care of yourself, y/n."

“You know I always do,” she gripped onto his sweatshirt sleeve, and flashed her award winning smile his way, “And if I find myself in need of a body guard I’ll be sure to call you.”

With one last wave, Seungcheol watched as she and Alex walked down the driveway, hand in hand. He sighed softly, turning to Joshua who gave him a sympathetic look.

"Come on," Joshua said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get a beer, bro. My treat."

Seungcheol nodded, grateful for Joshua's friendship. As they walked away, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Life had a way of surprising you, and he knew that his story was far from over.

A few months had passed now and finally the sun was shining brightly as their friend group gathered around the picnic table, laughter and chatter filling the air. Plates of food were being passed around, and the aroma of grilled meat wafted through the garden. Which sure, sounded a little gross, but it was just another sign of the changing of seasons, but not the changing of where his heart was gravitating. Y/N was in her element, flitting from one group to another, her energy infectious.

Seungcheol watched her from a distance, like he usually would, holding a fond smile on his lips. He couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she brought people together, how her presence seemed to light up even the most simple of places.

"Hey, earth to Idiot!" Y/N's voice broke through his daydream. She was standing in front of him, hands on her hips and a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you ready for our trip tomorrow?"

He grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I knew you’d never disappoint me!" she exclaimed, her smile widening. "It's going to be the best one yet, I can feel it. Something about the smell of the rain this year tells my heart the flowers will be perfect.”

Seungcheol chuckled, captivated by her excitement. "You and your weird as fuck sixth sense about flowers," he teased gently.

She punched him playfully. "Hey, don't underestimate my flower intuition. It's never wrong. It’s like how you always can for some reason tell how many people got a draft beer before you based on some fucked up freshness level you created. I mean we could always take a bet and see who everyone thinks is more insane.”

As the evening wore on, they continued to chat and laugh, the anticipation for their trip growing with each passing moment. The backyard was now filled with the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a magical ambiance over the gathering. And Seuncheol was still sitting with Y/n listening to her talk on and on about her new weird interests.

"Remember the first time we went on this trip?" Y/N asked, her gaze distant as she reminisced. "We got lost for hours, and you were so convinced that we were going to get mauled by a bear or a cougar or something?”

“We didn’t have gas or cell service. I feel like it was a fair assumption to make.” Seungcheol smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed remembering how he embarrassed himself around her even though he’s sure there were worse incidents.

“But, we were at a reststop.”

“But it was pouring rain, y/n. Come on.”

“Fine, I’ll let you have it,” she ruffled her pretty hands through his hair “I still think you’re silly.”

“You’re always so mean to me, when I do everything for you.”

“It’s just so easy.”

“By the way,” Seungcheol rubbed his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, “Where’s Alex this weekend?”

“Uh,” Y/n gave him a soft smile that he wasn’t so convinced was real, “With his parents in Antigua I think? Not sure, some weird beach vacation. Sounds boring.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tension in Y/n's tone. “Antigua, huh? Must be nice,” he replied, his voice deliberately casual, though he couldn't help the hint of envy creeping in.

Y/n shrugged, her smile flickering momentarily. “Yeah, I guess. But honestly, I’d much rather be here, hanging out with you guys. This is way more fun. And don’t tell Josh, but I miss seeing him every day.”

“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked. “I mean, it’s a tropical paradise, and you’d choose me and your brother over that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, her gaze meeting him with sincerity. “Why would I want to be stuck on a beach when I could be here, laughing and just… being ourselves? This is way more my style.”

Her words warmed him, but a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. “So, no Alex for the weekend, then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Y/n bit her lip, a flicker of thought crossing her face. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess it’s a bit of both? It’s nice to have some time to myself. But… you know how it is.” She trailed off, her eyes drifting away as if contemplating something deeper.

“Yeah, I do. Relationships can be complicated,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the opportunity. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

She turned back to him, and her expression softened. “Thanks, Seungcheol. That means a lot.”

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol found himself lost in conversations with old friends and making new ones. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a perfect reflection of Y/N's spirit.

Later, as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Seungcheol and Y/N found themselves talking through their open childhood bedroom windows.

"Thanks for always being there, Seungcheol," Y/N said softly, her gaze fixed on picking at her nails..

He watched her, his heart swelling with affection. "Always, Y/N. That's what friends are for."

She leaned her head on her hand, and they stared at each other, both hoping that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

At that moment, Seungcheol realized that sometimes, the most beautiful places were the ones you were at with the people you cared about the most.

As Seungcheol sat in his dimly lit room, the flickering glow of the y/n’s Scooby-Doo night light shone in his window, transporting him back to the warmth of Y/n’s presence. He could picture her room perfectly: the walls adorned with posters of their favorite shows, remnants of their laughter still hanging in the air. It had always been a haven for her—a place where her dreams intertwined and her deepest secrets were shared.

Years passed quickly, and that cherished tradition of celebrating their friendship had drifted away like fall leaves caught in a breeze. Life took them in separate directions, and despite the countless apologies Y/n sent his way, Seungcheol could never quite shake the feeling of loss. He always believed that she knew how much those moments meant to him; her absence felt like a missing piece of his heart that was waiting to be filled.

While he tried to move on, dating a variety of girls who were kind and entertaining, none of them were Y/n. He often found himself comparing their laughter to hers, their quirks to the little things he cherished about her. It felt like an act of treason against the relationships he pursued, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the old feelings from creeping back into his heart.

As he reflected on it all, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why couldn't he just let go? It was foolish to cling to a childhood crush on your best friend's little sister that seemed to grow more distant by the day. But deep down, he sensed that what he felt for Y/n was something more profound than a simple infatuation. She was his first crush, someone he confided in, and the keeper of so many memories that covered his soul with nostalgia and warmth.

It was during one of those restless nights, when the weight of her absence pressed heavily on his chest, that he made a decision. Seungcheol had to reach out to Y/n. No more waiting for the right moment or hoping for a chance meeting. He needed to tell her how he felt, how much he still cared, and how he longed for the connection they once shared.

Building up his courage the moment turned into an eternity as he waited, and just as doubt began to creep in, his phone buzzed, it was her calling him as if he had manifested catching up with her.

Seungcheol's heart raced as he saw Y/n's name flash across the screen. Just the sight of it sent a jolt of anxiety through him, he pushed it down and tried to take it as a reminder of all the times they had spent together, laughing until their sides hurt or sharing secrets late into the night, almost like excitement. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the accept button, uncertainty warring with excitement.

But before he could overthink it any longer, he pressed "accept" and set his phone to the speaker. “Y/n?”

“Cheol!” Her voice was bright, and it ignited something deep within him—an undeniable longing. “I can’t believe I finally caught you. I’ve missed you so much, sorry for the phone tag, I have been so fucking busy.

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his voice steadier than he felt. “It’s been way too long. I was just thinking about texting you when you called.”

“I feel bad for not making it home to see you lately,” she admitted, a hint of regret in her tone. “But.. uh, I’d love to fix that. How about we get together this weekend, like we used to? Maybe invite Soojin? Joshua?”

“Let’s do it.” A smile spread across his face. “We can go to that bar we used to sneak into and catch a show legally now?”

“Sounds perfect. Do me a favor?” she said, genuine enthusiasm shining through her words.

“Yes?” he waiting on the other end of the line hearing her giggling slightly to herself.

“Wear that old Sonic Youth t-shirt you have?”

“Why would I wear that?”

“Not sure. I just like that t-shirt. Please?”

Seungcheol’s heart swelled at the thought of being with her again, but he also felt the weight of unresolved feelings pressing on him. They’d both changed, but would the bond they shared still resonate the same way? Would she see him as just her brother’s friend or as something more?

As they continued to chat, Seungcheol tried to gauge her tone, the way she spoke about her life, the little nuances that indicated where she stood. Y/n spoke about college, her friends, and of course Alex.Her enthusiasm was infectious. But every laugh pulled him further back into the past, to the innocent moments when everything had felt so uncomplicated.

“Hey, Y/n,” he ventured, his heart beating a little faster as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to ask… How are you handling everything? I know things have changed for both of us.”

Y/n paused, and he could almost hear her brain processing the question. “Honestly? It’s been a bit of a whirlwind. I’m still figuring things out, but having people around who care makes it easier.”

“Yeah, I feel that,” he said, wishing he could just lay bare his feelings, let his heart spill out the way they used to share their secrets. “You know, I’ve always been here if you need someone to talk to.”

Her voice softened, and he could sense the shift in the conversation. “I know, and I appreciate that, Cheol. You’ve always been there for me, just like… well, I cant think of something always there for something else, but you get it..”

They fell into a comfortable rhythm again, but as the call slowly wound down, Seungcheol felt a flicker of resolve.

As they said their goodbyes, he heard Y/n’s voice resonate with warmth, and for a moment, the distance between them felt almost non-existent. “See you this weekend, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the endless possibilities that lay ahead.

Closing his phone, he let out a deep breath, a smile breaking across his face. The connection he had yearned for was just around the corner, and as he lay back on his bed, he knew that this time, he wouldn’t hold back.

present:

His heart sank at the words, a wave of frustration washing over him. “You deserve so much better than that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Don’t let anyone treat you like you’re not worth it. How do you know he’s cheating on you?

Y/n took a shaky breath, the anguish evident in her expression. “I’ve seen the signs—the late nights, the changing passwords, the way he ducks away when I try to talk about us.” She paused, her voice cracking slightly. “I just feel it deep inside, like this gnawing instinct that something isn’t right.”

Seungcheol felt his protectiveness swell within him. The thought of anyone treating her poorly made his blood boil. “Those signs aren’t just coincidence, Y/n. People shouldn’t make you second-guess yourself like that.”

She looked down, her fingers tracing the patterns on her jeans. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but the more I try to brush it aside, the more it eats away at me. I just wish I had the strength to confront him.”

“You do have that strength,” he urged, leaning closer, wanting to make eye contact to convey just how serious he was. “You’re stronger than you think. No one should keep you in the dark or make you feel like you have to doubt yourself. But if you need my help or anyone elses you know you can ask us right? You don’t have to fight it alone. Is that why you’ve been avoiding us lately?”

“Yeah and I’m sorry I’m embarrassed. But what if I’m wrong? What if I confront him and it turns out I’m just being paranoid?” A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away in frustration, the vulnerability on display pulling sharply at Seungcheol’s heart.

“Y/n, you’re not paranoid; you’re being cautious. People should earn your trust, not break it. If he really cared about you, he’d be open and honest, not leave you guessing.” Seungcheol felt a surge of emotion, desperately wanting to help her see the truth. “You have every right to bring up your concerns. If he reacts poorly, that’s a huge huge fucking red flag.”

She nodded slowly, another tear escaping despite her efforts to contain them. “I just don’t want to lose more than what I already feel like I’ve lost.. I just don’t know what to do, I guess. I’m sorry I’m ruining our fun.”

At that moment, Seungcheol couldn’t help but reach out, gently cupping her chin with his fingers so she would look up at him. “You are never ruining our fun, by telling us how you feel. Remember, you’re the one who deserves to be valued, not just by him, but by everyone in your life, especially those who say they love you.”

Their eyes locked, and he felt a change in the air around them—a connection that transcended the conversation that was sinking like a stone. “You deserve love that lifts you up, that makes you feel secure. Not a relationship that makes you doubt your worth and changes your life poorly.”

“Cheol…” she started, but he could see the struggle in her eyes, the facade of strength crumbling as the truth sunk in. She was scared, scared of the possibilities, but perhaps also scared of how much this all mattered to her.

“I’ll be right here with you, no matter what happens,” he promised, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him. “We’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to face any of it alone.”

Y/n's expression softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased just a little. “Thank you. It just helps to know someone cares I guess.”

Seungcheol nodded, yearning to break through the last barriers between them. “I’ve always cared for you, Y/n. Always. And I’ll keep caring, no matter what.” Even as those words left his mouth, he felt a weight in his chest—he wanted her to see just how much more she meant to him than mere friendship, but the time for that would come later. Right now, she needed a friend in her corner, and he would be that friend, no matter what. “Should we have a drink now?”

She smiled at him again, giving him a side hug. “Yes, maybe some shots too?”

Seungcheol immediately got to his feet and winked as he bee-lined for the bar standing next to Joshua and Soojin, filling them in on his conversation with y/n. The three of them didn’t mention it the rest of the night, but just made sure to give her the best time dancing and forgetting about her shitty relationship issues before the alcohol settled in her system too much and Cheol had to carry her home.

Joshua unlocked their front door and slid into the house quietly rushing in the three other party goers in hopes not to wake his mom up considering it was a work night.

Y/n brother pulled her shoes off and rested them at the front door, basically begging Seungcheol to carry her up to her bedroom so he could go get Soojin some pajamas and change his sheets for her in his room which Cheol obliged being the most sober.

As he was carrying his friend to bed she looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know I’m drunk, but I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be disappointed again. I just... feel so lost.”

Seungcheol felt a pang of concern as he adjusted his grip on her, his heart aching at the vulnerability etched across Y/n's face. He knew the night had been a whirlwind—filled with laughter, dancing, and fleeting moments of joy—but now, as he carried her up the stairs, her honesty pierced through the haze of alcohol.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel lost. You’ve been through a lot. But just remember, you have lots of people riding for you.

Y/n blinked slowly, her features wavering as she processed his words. “I don’t want to burden you,” she admitted, almost whispering. “I don’t want you to be sad because of me.

Seungcheol paused just outside her bedroom door, carefully shifting her weight so she wasn't too uncomfortable. “You’re not a burden, Y/n. Friends support each other. That’s what we do.”

Her lips trembled slightly, and she looked down, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just... I wish I could see things clearly. I want to believe it’ll get better, but I’m scared it won’t.”

He took a deep breath, choosing his buzzed words carefully. “It’s natural to feel scared. Change is intimidating, especially when it comes to relationships that have been so significant in your life. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start taking the steps to find what you really deserve. Like we talked about earlier. You’re worth that big true love, Y/n, even if you can’t see it just yet.”

Looking into her eyes, he noticed the flicker of hope battling against the weight of her sorrow. “You deserve to feel loved, celebrated and so fucking cherished, not just tolerated. And trust me,” he added, trying to inject a touch of warmth into his words, “the right person will come along, maybe they already have. You’re incredible.”

Y/n’s gaze held onto his, searching for truth in his words. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes, loser,” he affirmed, nodding. “I’ve been singing your praises for years, remember I did write a letter to Harry Styles trying to get him to go out with you when he was still on X-Factor so until that person comes along, I’m right here.” He started moving again, gently pushing the door open with his knee.

As he stepped inside, he carefully laid her onto the bed, her comfort a priority in the quiet space. “Just rest for now. Tomorrow is a new day. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight. Just let it go.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening as the corners of her mouth edged toward a small smile. “Thanks, CheolieI don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he assured her, tucking the blanket around her. “You’re stuck with me now.” He grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment wash over them, dispelling some of the heavy emotions lingering in the air.

She laughed softly, a sound that melted some of the tension from his chest. “Okay, but just for tonight! Tomorrow, I’ll have to start figuring things out. And can you do me one more incredibly annoying awkward favor that we never have to speak of again?”

“Deal,” he replied playfully. “Depending on how embarrassing it is?”

“Can you help me put on my pajamas? Or at least unbutton my shirt for me, I’m so warm and too drunk to care right now.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked his shock with a teasing grin. “Wow, is y/n too drunk to get undressed herself, it’s bringing me back to when you had your senior party.”

Y/n shrugged, her cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol and the sudden vulnerability of the moment. “I’m serious! I can’t get the buttons right now,” she grumbled, a laugh escaping her lips as she realized just how ridiculous the request was.

“Shut up, it’s fine.” he said, trying to maintain the playful spirit of the moment while also respecting her boundaries. “But you have to promise me you won’t regret this in the morning.”

“How could anyone regret that the night star football player and homecoming king four years running Choi Seungcheol took their clothes off?” she replied with a slight smirk. “Can we actually stop fucking around though and focus on getting me comfy so I can pass out without feeling like I’m wearing a fucking straightjacket.”

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me,” he smirked back, trying to suppress his nervousness. Carefully, he shifted to sit beside her on the edge of the bed, ensuring he kept the atmosphere light and respectful. “I’ll work my special magic.”

He helped her sit up and, taking a deep breath, gently began unbuttoning her shirt. With each button he opened, he focused on keeping his movements steady and casual,trying not to touch inappropriately whatsoever, stealing glances at her face rather than her torso. “See, I’m not so bad at this, right? Even being out of practice.” he joked, trying to ease any tension in the air.

Y/n chuckled softly, her laughter lightening the mood. “Yeah, you’re doing great. Just stop making it weird.”

“Me? Make it weird? Psh.” he teased back, his heart racing slightly as he continued, relieved that her demeanor was playful. As the last button came undone, he carefully helped her shrug the shirt off, revealing a soft bra top underneath.

“You literally just confessed to not getting laid in a long time, weirdo. Too much information.”

“God, shut up, I did not” he said, letting out a sigh of relief as he set the shirt aside. “Mission accomplished.. But it’s a good look, just so you know.”

“You’re just buttering me up to make me forget this moment, Cheol,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes despite her slightly vulnerable state.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! This moment is going straight into the archives as ‘That Time I Helped Y/n Get Ready for Bed,” he said, crossing his arms defiantly.

Y/n giggled, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.

Seungcheol felt warmth radiate in his chest at her words. “And you’re worse,” he said genuinely, his smile softening. “Now get some rest, cutie. I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything else.”

“You can stay here if you want? Joshua is sleeping on the couch because Soojin’s in his room.”

“Oh, uh. I’ll be alright on the floor downstairs. You get some sleep okay?”

“Goodnight, Cheolie,” she whispered, nearly missing him calling her an affectionate name, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of sleep began to envelop her.

“Goodnight, Bunny.” He watched her peaceful expression for a moment, then stood up from the edge of her bed and made his way to the door, feeling a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, he felt pride in being there for her, but a flicker of longing stirred inside him, reminding him of how much he truly fell in love with her.

As he stepped out into the hallway, he leaned against the wall, contemplating going back in there and comforting her for the night but also how it could affect their friendship and the feelings that lingered just below the surface. Tonight wasn't just another night; it felt like a turning point. Seungcheol had no idea where it would ultimately lead, but for now, he was grateful to be her anchor, even in the midst of uncertainty.

The next morning rolled in like a thunder cloud for y/n, she remembered walking home, but not much after that. She sat up under her pink fuzzy blanket in nothing other than her bra and skirt she had on the night before, her hair smooshed up on the back of her head like a pancake.

She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there but whoever took her upstairs left a glass of water on the nightstand and two tylenol. She smiled, grateful people have always looked out for her like this. Downing the two white pills and the entire glass of water she shot up and headed for the bathroom, walking in non- chalantly thinking nobody was behind the white door. As she turned the knob a voice came ringing in her ears.

“Josh I told you- Oh,” Seungcheol was shirtless with nothing but his wet hair cascading down his face and his towel wrapped around his body parts.” Y/n sorry.. I was just uh.. Finished.”

She slapped her hands over her eyes whispering a sorry and running back into her room, feeling a blush hit her cheeks.

Y/n's heart raced as she slammed the bathroom door shut and ran down the hall slamming her bedroom door shut her back against it, her mind swirling with embarrassment. She could practically feel the heat radiating from her cheeks as she replayed the scene in her head. How had she not realized Seungcheol was right there?

After taking a moment to collect herself, she peeked out through her fingers, her heart still pounding. “No, no, no. Why did I have to walk in like that?” she muttered under her breath, doing her best to calm the embarrassment bubbling up inside her. She could still picture Seungcheol’s surprised expression,

With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take it easy. “You’re both adults.And your friends like it, it's fine. Mistakes happen,” she whispered, trying to rationalize the embarrassment.

Y/n slowly shuffled back to her bed and flopped down face-first into her pillow, groaning. “Why is this my life?” she lamented silently, wanting to sink into the depths of her blankets and hide from the world altogether.

After a couple of minutes spent wallowing in her own pity, she finally sat up and took stock of the situation. She had to laugh at herself; if anyone could handle a little awkwardness, it was definitely Seungcheol.

With newfound resolve, she decided to brush off the incident. After all, she couldn’t stay cooped up in her room forever, and eventually, she would have to interact with him.

Rubbing her eyes, she stood up, her body still feeling a bit wobbly from the residual effects of last night. She padded over to her wardrobe and found a comfy oversized sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts to throw on. Just as she was finishing zipping up the sweatshirt, her door creaked open, and she heard Seungcheol’s voice.

“Uh... hey, Y/n?”

She froze, heart racing at the thought of confronting him after their embarrassing encounter. “Y-yeah?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I just wanted to check if you were okay. I heard you might have had a bit too much fun last night,” he said, his tone laced with gentle teasing but lacking the usual bravado.

Y/n felt her cheeks warm again, but she twisted the moment into playful sarcasm. “Yeah, I clearly have my life together. Who wouldn’t want to walk into a bathroom with a half-naked guy?”

His laughter echoed, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting a guest, either.”

“So, uh, thanks for... you know, taking care of me last night.”

“Of course,�� he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll help you with whatever.”

She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “Yeah, but still! I really appreciate it.”

Seungcheol’s smile faded slightly, replaced with an earnest expression as he leaned against the doorframe. “Y/n,It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing it for years, I don’t mind.”

She bit her lip, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach at the intensity of his gaze and the sincerity behind it. “For real, Cheol. Thanks. I mean it. Just accept the sincerity.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, breaking the moment by giving her a grin, “Want to get some breakfast or something? I’ll whip us up something..”

“That sounds great,” she agreed, “But, I actually have something I need to go do today. How about I see you later? A movie or something maybe?”

“Yeah, you know where to find me.”

“Of course.”

If today was going to be the most awkward day of her life, fine. She could handle it. Now arming herself with coffee, she had the feeling it was going to turn out just fine.What started with a flustered memory could lead to deeper conversations, and maybe even something more. First she had to confront Alex about his infidelity and then she can go back to these thoughts. Still, she giggled to herself as she thought about it—this was definitely going to be a morning they’d both remember.

Y/n parked her car in front of Alex’s apartment complex, her whole drive here she made up fake conversations to have with him in her head some of her intrusive thoughts started to get to her as she imagined much more crazy ways of how to confront him, but she knew she’d cry. She knew how hard it would be for her no matter what his answer was, yes or no, but she had to do it.

Somehow she knew either way that she may be grateful it gave her the courage to break up with him in general.

Getting out of the car, Y/n felt a mix of determination and fear. The weight of unresolved emotions pressed down on her chest as her shoes tapped against the pavement. She took a moment to inhale deeply, trying to steal a bit of calm before walking through the threshold that would dictate the direction of her life. She climbed the few steps to Alex’s building and pressed the intercom buzzer.

After a few moments, a crackling voice came through. “Who is it?”

“It’s Y/n,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Y/n? Oh, hey babe.! Come on up!” The excitement in his tone gave her a strange mix of hope and dread. Would he be as cheerful when they talked about the mess that had unfolded?

When she reached his door, she hesitated, heart racing. Did she really want to do this? But even as the question surfaced, she felt the guilt gnawing at her. She owed it to herself.

Gathering her courage, she knocked. After a moment, the door swung open, and Alex stood there, looking casually handsome in a simple tee and jeans, a wide smile on his face. “Hey baby, It’s so good to see you. I thought you were hanging with your brother this weekend?”

“Hey,” she replied, forcing a smile, even as her stomach churned. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah of course. Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let her through. As she entered, a rush of familiarity enveloped her—his scent, the slight clutter that was reminiscent of their time together. It should have felt comforting, but instead, it ignited a sense of dread.

She followed him into the living room, where the remnants of his gaming session littered the floor. The sight pulled at her heartstrings—how many times had they shared moments in this space? But those memories felt crushed by the deceit that loomed over them now.

“Wanna drink something? I just made coffee.” he offered, heading toward the kitchen.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” Y/n tucked her hair into the back of her sweatshirt, feeling uncharacteristically fidgety. “Alex, I really just need to talk.”

“What’s on your mind?” He settled onto the couch, beaming with an eagerness that pitted her stomach against her better instincts.

She took a breath, the words sticking in her throat. “I... um, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Yeah? About what?” His expression shifted to curiosity, and she suspected he had no inkling of the storm about to descend.

“About us, about everything that’s happened,” she started, trying to gauge his reaction. His smile faltered just a bit, and her heart sank. “I found out about the other girl.”

His demeanor changed instantly. The confident glimmer in his eyes vanished, replaced by confusion. “Y/n, I—”

“Let me finish,” she interrupted, her tone firmer than she anticipated. She crossed her arms, drawing strength from her resolve. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I just need to know if you even care at all about what this does to our relationship.”

“I do care! I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He looked defensive, yet Y/n couldn't muster sympathy at this moment.

“Didn’t mean for what to happen? To hurt me? To also keep her a secret?” Her voice was steady, but her chest tightened as emotions swelled within. “How many times did you lie to me? How can I trust anything you say now?”

“Y/n, please. It was a mistake. I never wanted to hurt you,” he pleaded, his expression shifting from confusion to desperation.

“And yet, here we are!” she raised her voice,, feeling the anger rise, mixed with a sorrow that threatened to spill over. “I don’t know if you understand how this makes me feel. I didn’t deserve to be anything less than faithful.”

“Oh and your brothers friend is jus-”

“Shut up for one goddamn second.”

Alex opened his mouth in surprise, as if he was about to argue, but Y/n pressed on, the truth spilling out. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that we could make it work, that you’d change. But the more I think about it, the more I realize—it’s not just a mistake. It’s a choice you made. You don’t actually love me enough to just be with me.”

“Y/n...” he started, but she cut him off again, her gaze unwavering.

“It made me realize I deserve better than what you’ve given me. I need to take care of myself.”

An overwhelming silence consumed the room. Alex’s face hardened as he processed her words, the reality of what was happening sinking in.

“I just... I thought we had something special,” he muttered, hurt flickering in his eyes.

“We did,” she whispered, a pang of regret cutting through her. “But that’s the thing, Alex. You fucking ruined it.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she squared her shoulders. “We have to break up.”

“Y/n, wait. I can change. I swear! Just give me another chance! I’ll do better!” His plea hung in the air, desperately.

But she knew better now. “I don’t think I can forgive you for this. And I don’t think I want to try. I need to move on and find myself again.”

She turned to leave, heart racing in her chest. As she reached for the doorknob, Alex’s voice caught her once more. “I wish you’d let me explain...”

She paused but didn’t turn around. “There’s nothing left to say, Alex.”

With a shaky breath, she stepped outside, the cool air hitting her like a wave of clarity. Y/n stood for a moment on the threshold, allowing herself to breathe freely for the first time in weeks.

As she walked down the stairs and toward her car, the weight of the conversation pressed upon her, but in a different way. It was a weight lifted.

She took out her phone and texted Seungcheol. “IT'S OVER, lol. Can we still do that movie later? I could really use a friend.”

Seconds later, her phone buzzed with his response. “What’s over? Did you break up with that fucker? Thank god. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

A smile broke through her earlier sorrow, and she felt the corners of her heart begin to heal just a little. She hadn’t expected this day to lead her in a new direction, but she was ready for whatever came next. One awkward day down, and the next chapter was waiting.

On her drive back y/n knew she shouldn’t be thinking about jumping into her relationship with Seuncheol now, but she also knew she wasted so much time with other jerks never giving him a chance, but it’s what she wanted she just had to figure out how to make it happen.

She pulled into Seuncheol’s driveway, bag of snacks in hand. Shutting her car door with her backside, nearly skipping up to his front door where he stood waiting for her with open arms dressed in his pajamas.

The sight of him, all cozy and relaxed, made her heart flutter. Seuncheol's smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help but return it as she stepped into his warm embrace. The delicious scent of something cooking wafted through the door behind him, complementing the warmth and comfort he radiated.

“Well, well, well, Miss. Bad Bitch,” he exclaimed, pulling away and taking her bag of snacks. “I hope you brought my favorites.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, her heart dancing at how effortlessly they fell into this easy banter. “How could I come empty-handed to thank my therapist?”

Seuncheol chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Good point. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Together they sorted through the assortment of chips, candies, and cookies, playfully debating over which treats deserved a spot on their makeshift movie night platter. As they settled onto the couch, their bodies nearly touching, she found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The earlier unease faded, replaced by a sense of belonging as she sank deeper next to him resting her head on his shoulder swinging around a piece of licorice.

“Alright, so what are we watching?” he asked, remote in hand.

She bit her lip thoughtfully, her heart racing at the idea of sharing this moment with him. “How about something fun? A rom-com?”

“Only if you promise to laugh at all the cheesy parts,” he teased, nudging her playfully.

“How about a bet that whoever cries has to jump in your pool… naked,” she shot back with a smile, feeling a thrill in their playful exchange. The movie began, their laughter filling the space as they munched on snacks, but she felt the real chemistry sparking between them, the edges of her heart warming with every shared glance and gentle touch.

As the story unfolded on the screen, she caught herself stealing glances at him, his focus entirely on the film yet his presence enveloped her like a warm blanket. Somewhere between the jokes and the popcorn fights, the realization struck—this was the moment she had been waiting for, the feeling she had longed to explore.

“Seuncheol,” she said softly, causing him to look over, pausing the movie.

“Yeah?”

“Are you crying?”

“Maybe.”

“Wow. I win!”

Seungcheol punched the air, getting up faster than he ever has, stripping off his hoodie and running out the patio door, y/n chasing behind him, knocking over the entire bowl of popcorn on her way out.

As she turned the corner to go towards his pool he snatched her up, jumping in with her in his arms.

The splash echoed through the night as the cool water enveloped them both. Seungcheol erupted in laughter, the sound bright and full of joy, while Y/N squealed in surprise, her heart racing from the sudden plunge.

As they surfaced, water cascading off their faces, Y/N couldn't help but scold him playfully, “What the Fuck. You could have warned me!” Her hair clung to her face, and she was momentarily blinded, but the thrill of the moment overshadowed any annoyance.

Seungcheol flashed her a cheeky grin, droplets sparkling on his skin. “Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his eyes mischievous, reflecting the moonlight.

Y/N glared, though her heart was still light. “You’re such an asshole!” she laughed, splashing water back at him, her instincts taking over as they devolved into a playful water fight. He countered with playful throws of water, their laughter mingling in the cool night air—full of energy, warmth, and the promise of summer.

He was talking her through the water, pinning her against his bare chest, they both paused, breathless and giggling their legs brushing against each other as she caught her breath. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” she said softly, her voice playful yet carrying an underlying affection.

Seungcheol tilted his head, his smile softening. “Maybe. But this is way more fun than sitting inside watching movies.” He reached for her hair, swiping it out of her face, and for a moment, the world faded around them, he took a deep breath and kissed her, rummaging his hands under her sweatshirt which she reciprocated back, tugging at his waist band, dipping her cold fingers underneath to graze him slightly in an area they’ve never explored.

“I’ve been thinking about us,” she confessed, the words tumbling out between their passionate kisses she couldn’t second-guess them. “I know this is sudden.. But, I.. uh.” she left a small whispering moan out of her lips,

Kissing her deeply again smiling into it he just whispered, “But?” and then moved his lips to her neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. “But I want to give us a chance. I want to see where this could go. I’ve never trusted anyone more than you.”

A huge smile broke over his face, as he pulled away for just a moment, as if her words were a key that unlocked something deep within him. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her nerves calming under the intensity of his stare. “I do. I know it’s sudden, but I’ve been in love with you my whole life.”

His eyes widened with surprise “You… you’ve loved me?” The words slipped from his lips, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid to break the spell of the moment.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice steady yet soft, the weight of her confession hanging between them like a fragile thread. “I never thought we’d get to this point, but here we are.”

He leaned in closer again, his forehead resting against hers, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. “I never wanted to rush you,” he admitted. “I just didn’t know how to tell you how I felt. It’s like… you’ve always been the only person I’ve ever wanted.”

Her heart swelled at his words, a sense of relief enveloping her like a warm blanket. “So what now?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with sincerity.

“Now? We figure it out together.” His voice was low and confident, reassurance flooding her senses. He kissed her forehead gently before pulling back slightly, his hands still locking around her waist. “I want to take our time, get to know each other in this way. There’s no rush.”

“Okay,” she murmured, the smile returning to her lips. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his patient approach, how refreshing it felt to not be hurried into something that had the potential to change everything.

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Just know that I’m all in.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, caught in the sincerity of his gaze. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words.”

“And now that you have, what do you want to do first?” he asked, a twinkle of mischief sparking in his eyes.

She grinned, feeling a rush of excitement flood through her. “How about we start with dinner? A proper date, just the two of us, to celebrate this… us. Build up even more sexual tension between us just to make it fun”

“Dinner it is,” he said, already beaming. “And knowing you a bet to who would break first.”

“My bets on you, Cheol. You’re a man.”

“Sure, Bunny. But you did already have your hands down my pants, I’m thinking you’re already a failure. But, I’ll let it slide this time.”

“Well I’ll try to control myself,” she replied, feeling a thrill of possibility unfolding before them. With newfound hope in her heart, she knew this was only the beginning.

853 notes · View notes

lqvesoph · 6 months

Text

She‘s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4

gif by @formulaonedirection

lando norris x webber!reader

summary: After releasing your new album you go to the Bahrain Grand Prix to finally see your two favorite Aussie’s. What you didn’t expect is to meet a certain Brit as well.

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

masterlist | taglist

Part 1

yn.adams: Thank you for all the love on GUTS!!! Tour is coming I promissssse but now off to Bahrain🏁

comments:

gracieabrams: YOURE UNREAL

rachelzegler: all american t*ts frr

danielricciardo: Okay who am I fighting today🥊

oscarpiastri: See u in Bahrain (finally)

> yn.adams: FINALLY!!!

> oscarpiastri: You‘ve become busy since becoming a world star🥲

fan: SHES COMING TO BAHRAIN!!!

> fan: FINALLY!! Its been ages

fan: Has she ever been to a race??

> fan: Well… I mean obviously LMAO😭

fan: U supporting Red Bull or Mclaren this weekend?

> yn.adams: Rbr obviously!! Not even Oscar can get me into that orange Garage🤨

> oscarpiastri: It’s PAPAYA!!!

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*~*~*~*~*~*

"GOOD MORNING!!!", an australian accent yelled into your ear just moments after you entered the Bahrain paddock.

You flinched, immediately slapping the person’s arm. "Daniel!!!", you called and pushed the driver away from you as he tried to pull you into a hug.

"I‘ve missed you so much", he mumbled, pressing you close to him and ruffling your hair after, which made you slap his hand away from your head.

"You seen Osc yet?“, you asked, looking around you, spotting a few photographers whose camera’s where direct to you. Daniel shook his head. "Nope, I thought you‘d come together. I‘m surprised you’re only here now."

You rolled your eyes and kept walking with Daniel. "I was on a video call with my team, discussing the upcoming tour. We gotta work out a schedule and call the venues and stuff", you replied. "We‘ve been on there even before the album came out and I still haven’t completely made up my mind."

"Indecisive little shit", Daniel laughed, making you slap his arm with a chuckle. You made your way to the Red Bull hospitality, Daniel waving at a few people from Mclaren that he was still friends with even after he left the team at the end of the 2022 season.

"I think Kelly and P are in there", he told you before hugging you goodbye. "If you see Oscar, tell him I‘m looking for him", you said, smiling and ruffling through Daniel‘s hair as some sorta revenge, before quickly stepping back and running up the stairs to the entrance.

Daniel laughed and pointed a finger at you. "I‘m gonna get you back!" You giggled and waved as you walked backwards into the hospitality.

Looking around the room you quickly spotted Kelly with her daughter Penelope sitting on a creme coloured couch.

"Heyy, honey", she greeted you and got up to hug you. "Hey, darling", you then said and lifted Penelope up who was reaching her arms out to you.

Just when you sat down, your phone chimed with a new message.

Osc🧡: Meet me in front of Mclaren

You: I‘m not going in tho

Osc🧡: Well I can’t really walk into Red Bull can I?

You: 🙄okay

"I‘ll be back soon, Oscar just texted", you let Kelly know and high fived P who giggled as you did. Jeez, how much you missed that little sunshine!

You glanced around the front porch of Mclaren‘s hospitality but didn’t spot Oscar. And as you didn’t just want to walk into the building you stayed where you were, next to the steps leading up to the entrance.

"You walked in with Danny, right?", someone spoke behind you, making you turn around. The confused expression on your face quickly leaving when you came face to face with the other Mclaren driver.

He sat at one of the tables with another curly haired guy and a blonde girl.

You nodded. "Yeah", you simply said. "You wanna come up here?", he asked, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.

You‘ve never spoken to Lando Norris, all you knew about him was through stories from either Oscar or Daniel. You knew that he spent some of his winterbreak with Danny and Martin in Australia. Daniel had asked you to come along as well but you were busy with the release of your new album so you had to decline.

You looked around you one last time, trying to find Oscar but failed, so you nodded and took the few stairs up to the table the three of them were sitting at.

As you stood directly in front of them, you saw how the blonde girl recognized you. You‘ve always been good at reading people but over the last years you‘ve become incredibly good at telling whether people recognized you when facing them. Even if they try their hardest to hide it, that small second when their eyes widen in realization was enough for you to tell.

"I‘m Lando", he introduced himself, holding a hand out to greet you. "Y/n, nice to meet you", you smiled, trying to ignore the urge to tell him 'I know, I‘m friends with Daniel and Oscar'. "Max and Pietra, friends of me", he then gestured over to the people sitting across from you.

"So, how do you know Daniel?", Lando asked, crossing his arms on the table. "I‘ve known him since I was 8 years old, I think", you smiled, remembering tiny 8 year old you giggling and blushing when first talking to Daniel at the British Grand Prix. "Really?", his eyes widened. "How did you meet?" "Uh, through my dad, he‘s from Australia as well", you answered, leaving out most of the details.

"You‘re australian?", Lando questioned with raised eyesbrows. "No no, my dad is. My mom‘s from America and I kinda grew up between California and Canberra", you explained.

"However, for some reason she likes to ignore her australian origin", a voice said behind you, making you smirk as you recognized the familiar Melbourne accent.

You turned around in your chair and stood up before wrapping your arms around Oscar. "Hey, princess", he laughed. "How‘ve you been?"

"Bit stressful with Tour at the minute but it feels so good to be back here!", you grinned.

As you turned back to the other three, you couldn’t help but notice Lando‘s confused face. Maybe it was the fact you basically jumped Oscar or that he‘d called you 'princess', something he‘s been doing ever since your first Tour when you got gifted a little crown from your fans because it matched the dress you were wearing on stage.

"I se you‘ve made friends already, might wanna stay here for the race?", Oscar asked with a smirk. You slapped the back of his head in an affectionate way. "Nuh uh, nice try, Piastri", you chuckled. "I‘ll be watching from Red Bull, you know that."

The confused expression on Lando‘s face only seemed to deepen with everything you said so you gave him a quick explanation. "My father used to work at Red Bull, so it‘s the team I‘ve grown up with and I‘m not leaving that."

Oscar snorted at you little white lie but you rammed your elbow into his side to get him to keep quiet.

Lando nodded, still slightly confused by the way you and Oscar acted with each other but before he could question it, a team member walked out of the door and told the two drivers to start getting ready for the race.

"I‘ll see you later, okay? You‘re driving back with Daniel?", your best friend asked. "I haven’t talked to him about it but-" "Okay, then I‘m taking you back to the hotel", he interrupted you with a grin.

"Jeez, splitting my time with you two like you‘re my parents", you laughed but agreed and hugged the driver goodbye.

"Bye, bye!", you waved to Lando, Max and Pietra before walking back over to Red Bull.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After the race and all the podium celebrations, you waited in front of the Mclaren hospitality for Oscar, scrolling mindlessly on your Twitter while ignoring the 22 unread messages from your management.

"Hey, Y/n", a voice said behind you, making you look up from your phone. "Lando, hi. Congrats on your race", you smiled. "Thanks, could’ve been better but we‘ll try again next week", he shrugged.

"Jeddah, right?", you asked, not having memorized the calendar quite yet. The driver nodded and played around with the orange lanyard in his hands.

"You coming?", he dared to ask after a few seconds and from the way his fingers fiddled with the orange band faster, you could tell how nervous he was. You shrugged. "I don’t know yet, I’m quite busy with work at the minute, so probably no. But I‘ll definitely be in Melbourne", you replied, trying to lighten the mood by adding the last sentence.

"Pietra told me you’re a singer", he revealed, making you smile at the memory of the blonde girl. "I could tell she recognized me", you admitted. Lando chuckled. "She said she tried her hardest to not let it show but was freaking out on the inside! She‘s actually quite mad at herself for not asking you for a picture!"

You giggled again and shook your head. "She could’ve asked, I wouldn’t have minded", you said with a small smile. "If she’s at a Grand Prix just let me know and I promise I‘ll find her." "I‘ll let her know", he nodded and looked to the ground with the cutest smile you have seen in a while.

The combination of the brunette curly hair, the british accent, the smile and his dimples, drove you crazy and made you heart skip a few beats. But you tried your best to keep it together.

Little did you know that Lando quite literally felt the same about you. Your long hair, along with the color of your eyes and especially your smile made his heart beat a little faster as well.

You stayed in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other admiringly before a voice interrupted your starring.

"Princess!! Sorry for being late!", Oscar called while walking out of the hospitality with Lily‘s hand in his. You smiled at the sight of your best friend’s girlfriend and send her a little wave which she returned with the hand that wasn’t wrapped in Oscar‘s.

"That‘s okay, I had Lando to keep me company", you chuckled, making the brit smile a little. "You ready?", Oscar asked and you nodded.

He said goodbye to Lando and started walking down the stairs.

"I’ll see you in Australia?", Lando asked one last time. You nodded your head with a smile. "Oh for sure, I wouldn’t miss this race for the world!", you chuckled. "Great!", Lando whispered under his breath and gave you a little wave which you returned before following Oscar and Lily.

"What do you think of him?", Oscar asked as soon as Lando was out of hearing range. "Lando? He’s pretty cute", you simply stated, not daring to mention the other words floating around your head. Nice, pretty, gorgeous, hot and handsome were just a few examples.

"Why do you ask?"

Oscar smirked. "No reason, really!"

tagged: redbullracing, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri

yn.adams: bahrain dump (feat. my two favorite aussies)

comments:

oscarpiastri: You‘re an aussie as well…

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fan: Am I seeing you in the Mclaren garage?

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> fan: Through her dad obviously

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months

Text

Smell Ya Later

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else

Masterlist

Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.

“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.

“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.

“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.

“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.

“Really? I don’t smell anything.”

“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.

“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.

“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”

“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.

“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”

“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.

“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”

“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.

“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.

“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.

“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.

“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”

“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.

“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.

“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.

“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.

“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.

“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.

“It’s called a jade roller.”

“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.

“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.

“And it works?”

“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.

“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.

“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.

“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.

“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.

“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.

“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”

“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.

“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.

“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”

“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.

“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.

“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.

“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”

“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.

The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.

“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.

“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.

“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.

“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.

“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“

“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.

“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.

“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”

“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.

“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.

“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.

“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.

“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.

“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”

Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.

“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.

“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.

“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.

“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” You wondered.

“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.

“How long has what been going on?”

“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.

“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.

“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.

“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”

“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.

“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”

“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.

“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.

“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.

“She has very moving music.” You defended him.

“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”

“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”

“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”

“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.

“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.

“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”

“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.

You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.

“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.

“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.

“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”

“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“

“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.

“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.

“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.

“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.

“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.

“What was the good idea before this one?”

“Chips in my sandwich.”

“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.

“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”

“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.

“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.

“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.

“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.

“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.

“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.

“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”

“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.

“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”

“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”

“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”

“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.

“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.

“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.

“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”

“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.

“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”

“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”

“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands

“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”

“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.

“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”

“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.

“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”

“Really? Never?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”

“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”

“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”

“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”

“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.

“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.

“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.

“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”

“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.

“So?” He asked.

“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”

Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.

“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”

“11 guys.” You corrected.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.

“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.

“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”

“Not at school, no.”

“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.

“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.

“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.

“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.

“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”

“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.

“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.

“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.

“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”

“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”

You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.

“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.

“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.

“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.

“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.

“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.

“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you

“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”

You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.

“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.

“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.

“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.

“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.

“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.

“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.

“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.

“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”

“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.

“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.

“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”

“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.

“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”

“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.

“It is. But-“

“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.

“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”

“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.

“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”

“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”

“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.

You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.

You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.

“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.

“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.

“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.

“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”

Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.

When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.

“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.

“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.

“You planned this for me?”

“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.

“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.

“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.

“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”

“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.

“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.

“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.

“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.

“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.

“I do like you.” He said quietly.

“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”

“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.

“You like this.” You told him.

“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.

“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.

“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.

“Why were you in Sephora?”

“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”

“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.

“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”

“I love those.”

“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.

“Very impressive selection.”

“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”

“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”

“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.

“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.

“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”

“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”

“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.

“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“

You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.

“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.

“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.

“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.

“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

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@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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reiderwriter · 1 year

Text

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

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