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#but I promise you I genuinely called her that earlier
shadowbriar · 1 day
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Matt Murdock - Waste My Time I
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Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her)Reader  Word Count : 4.6k Warning : Some curses. Fluff. Some cliff hanger, I think? Sets on Matt's uni years. Notes : I will do some updates on the prologue to better fit the plot. Let me know if you wanna be tagged for future chapters. Cheers! x If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
↞ Prologue
The smell of sugar and roasted beans were thick in the air. The establishment was packed with people. It wasn’t the usual cafe Matt and Foggy would go to. No, the cheap coffee truck on the way to the campus or perhaps the vending machine by their Advanced Constitutional Law class would do to grab a cup of americano from, but today isn’t one of those days. 
Today is one of those days when Foggy would drag him to the other side of the city just to pick up some special sandwich that would guarantee a forgiveness pass from Marci. Today is one of those days when Foggy would pay for his americano, only to forget his wallet by the bedside table. Today is one of those days when Foggy would have to make another promise to pay for his meal as the blonde had to bail and run to give Marci her sandwich.
Now Matt, ever the understanding friend, certainly paid no mind with all of the troubles Foggy dragged him into this morning. He figured he could use the long way to his classes this morning. To try and see what exactly is on the other side of the campus when the sun is still out. When he was in his normal clothes and not hunting robbers. When he could actually be Matt Murdock and not the Daredevil.
But now standing by the side aisle to pick up his order, Matt knew that the lady who was too busy arguing on the phone with who seems to be a disastrous ex-husband, accidentally picked up his americano and left him with what smells to be a matcha latte with twice if not thrice the normal sugar level.
Matt’s lips pout a little. He’s certainly not in the mood to jump start his day with a lethal dose of diabetes, but Foggy’s left minutes ago and he couldn’t just call the barista to exchange his order without actually tasting the beverage. What excuse would he give? That he could smell that the drink in his hand isn’t what he ordered?
“Hi, sorry,” A voice of salvation echoes from his right. A woman who’s now approaching him with a gentle voice greets. Matt could taste the uncertainty in her tone, how her heart beats a little awkwardly as if she wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing yet she does it anyway “I’m really sorry to be coming off as a creep like this, but I don’t think that’s your order.”
“No?” Matt asks with a raised eyebrow.
“No, I think the lady before you mistook your order.” She explained, taking the cup away from his hand “I overheard your order with your friend earlier, I was queueing behind you. You ordered an americano, right? This is a hot matcha.”
“Oh,” Matt says, feigning surprise “I wouldn’t have known.”
“Yeah.. Here, you can take my americano.” She offers, pushing her cup to his hand “I haven’t touched it or anything, I promise. It’s clean.”
“No, it’s fine I can just ask the barista—” Matt’s words were interrupted when his phone beeped, followed by the automatic reminder: his Conflict of Laws class starts in five minutes “Shit.”
“Yeah, just take it,” She insists “I’ll ask the barista to redo my order. It’s fine, really.”
“Thank you.” Matt says, accepting the warm cup at last “I appreciate it.”
“It’s no big deal.”
Matt wanted to prolong their conversation. She seems to be a genuinely kind person. Had he not been in a rush for being on the other side of the campus and having to come to class on time as Professor Barton would lock the door a second past nine, he would have stayed and continued talking to this one kind soul. At the very least, he would have asked for her name and asked if he could repay her kindness, perhaps with a slice of pizza and cold beer after class. But today isn’t one of those days.
Today is one of those days when he passed by someone he would wish he had more time to spare with. Today is one of those days when he met someone he would think of longer than the time he spent with said person. Today is one of those days when he hoped that he would meet her again.
—-
Her hair was dishevelled. She dares not to look at the time as it would only fuel her anxiety even worse. She planned to have her essays done before the clock strikes nine, but it has been hours since and she could barely call herself half way there.
The bigger side of the library has now turned dark. Students have retreated back to their bedrooms or have found themselves better things to waste the night with. It was Friday, afterall. Most wouldn’t even think of stepping their foot inside for the night, yet here she is, trying her best to stay afloat on the ocean of assignments that she’s evidently drowning in.
But when she was ready to take the consolation prize for being the most pathetic student of the year, a boy took the seat in front of her. He took out the things from his bag—several heavy textbooks and a laptop—as he tried to find comfort on the table, completely oblivious to her presence.
It was that boy. The boy she helped the other day in the cafe. Well, the word help would certainly be an overstatement as she only pointed out that he was holding the wrong order and offered hers in replacement, but she had a slight nervousness in her bones as she felt it was overstepping of her when she offered the proposal, so thinking that she was helping him feels a little rewarding and helped soothe her nerves a little.
She silently stares at him as he continues his work. His fingers trace the braille on his textbooks, mouth slightly moving as he tries to read the passages. The boy was beautiful to say the least. Like a beautiful painting you wouldn’t grow bored of even after hours of staring. The soft light of the library was hitting his face in all the right directions, enhancing his features that truthfully need no betterment yet it accentuates his beauty nonetheless.
Five if not fifteen minutes after her staring, she realises that she has to make her presence known. She wouldn’t want him to be startled if she makes any noises or movements, or worse makes him feel unsafe by her stealthy actions. The last thing she would want is to make him feel like she was a threat instead of a friend.
She taps on the table lightly, catching his attention, “Uh, I just want to let you know that you’re not alone at this table.”
“Oh, right,” The boy answers “Should I move?”
“No, no! I just wanted to let you know, that’s all. Please don’t move.” She says fast.
The boy’s lips curved into a smile but his brows knitted, “I’m sorry, have we met before? You sound familiar.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m the girl from the cafe,” She says, the same uncertainty lacing her tone “I swear I’m not trying to stalk you or anything. I just happen to be in the same place you are for some reason.”
“I never thought of you as one,” The boy says with a smile “I’m Matt, by the way.”
She tells him her name.
Matt whispers her name, letting it roll on his tongue like it’s going to settle for a long time there, “I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing in a library on a Friday?”
“The same reason as you have, I’m sure.” She says with a sigh, not wanting to elaborate “What major are you taking?”
“Law, you?”
“International Affairs.” She answered, biting on her pencil as she judged him “Law, huh? Well, aren’t you a smarty pants.”
Matt chuckles. 
Her heart skipped a beat.
Stupid heart.
“Listen,” Matt says after a visible nervous lick of his lips “I hope this isn’t too straight forward, but I really appreciate what you did the other day, and I figured I owe you some form of gratitude, so I was wondering if.. You’d be free some time soon? Maybe this weekend? We can grab some food and sit by the park or do whatever it is you find amusing.”
Her smile grows, “Are you asking me for a date?”
“No, I’m showing you my gratitude,” He argues “But masked as a date, yes.”
It was practically impossible for her to bite down her grin by now. Eternally grateful that most of the lights in the library are out and that he couldn’t see the stupid smile on her face. She was sure that her cheeks were red and that her eyes were as big as puppy’s with how charming Matt is. Exactly how more perfect can the man sitting in front of her be? Beautiful face, delightful talking, and certainly a brilliant mind. At this point he could either be her knight in shining armour or a complete psychopath, no in between.
“So.. Would you have any free time?”
“How’s next week? Friday?”
Matt nods, smiling softly, “Friday it is.”
—-
Days leading up to the date passed as slow as it could get, even when they were spent by meeting her at the library before his night patrols. Matt knew that it was practically wrong of him to insert himself in her life. To come uninvited to her table that night, acting as if he didn’t know it was her nor did he not know of her presence, but in his defence, he didn’t deliberately plan to meet her. It only so happened that he finished his nightly patrol quickly that night and that she was in the library when he initially wanted to spend the rest of the night finishing his paperworks.
At that moment, he thought that God was aligning their stars. It wasn’t everyday that he had the urge to finish patrol early. It wasn’t everynight that he wanted to spend the rest of the night in the library. It certainly wasn’t every Friday that he would find her there. In fact, he couldn’t recall if she’s ever been to the library before. He would’ve caught the familiarity of her scent at the cafe if she was a regular there.
Though Matt knew that he couldn’t offer much to her, not his full time nor attention as they’re both reserved to keeping Hell’s Kitchen a little safer each night, Matt was willing to give everything he has left to get to know her better. It wasn’t everyday he could meet someone who would treat her with kindness that is pacifying without any hint of humiliation. She knows just the right amount of care to show without having to walk on eggshells around him and that’s something Matt very much appreciates.
All of it felt like it was meant to be. That he was meant to get that wrong order and that she was to intervene and rescue him from that God awful latte. It felt like he was meant to go to the library that night and meet her once again. And it certainly felt like their date tonight was meant to happen.
“Oh, this is gold,” She moans as she takes another bite of their pizza.
Matt smiles, satisfied to hear her blissful commentary, “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“The best,” She says shortly. There was a sudden silence from her and Matt wonders if something had happened but she quickly speaks “Uh, you’ve got.. Um, you’ve got some sauce on your lips.”
“Yeah?” Matt asks, his free hand wiping the sides of his lips.
“It’s still there. I think it’s dried a little,” She says, that hint of uncertainty reappearing in her voice “Can I just?”
“Yeah, go for it.”
And she wipes the corner of his lips gently. The warmth of his skin was in contrast to the cold wind that gushed their way and it only amplified the butterflies in her stomach as their skin made contact. Supposed he felt the unexpected jolt of electricity too because his jaw tenses a little before he lets out a sigh when she finishes wiping his lips.
“Thanks.” Matt whispers with a smile.
She didn’t say a word, only humming a little to show response.
Had Matt not have his heightened senses, he would have thought that something wrong happened but he could hear the not-so-steady beat of her heart and how her body heat rises a little. She was just nervous, just as much, if not less erratic than he is. If only she could feel his heart and hear just how loudly it’s beating right now, acting as if it’s trying to burst forth his ribcage, she would perhaps feel a little less agitated.
It was too soon to say, but Matt couldn’t ignore all the blissful connections they’ve shared. He felt as if he’s finally met his match. The knot to his strings, the solace to his rage. He knew that there’s still so many layers of himself that he’s yet to show her, the sides of Matt Murdock and Daredevil that he’s yet to expose to her, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, he felt like he could take his time and savour the moment as it unfolds.
A little egoistic of him, but what exactly can he do at the time?
“This is great,” She says, breaking his train of thought “I very much enjoyed tonight.”
“Oh no, are we reaching the end of the night?”
“No,” She chuckles, shaking her head “I just wanted to say it, just in case I forget to and you wonder if I’m having a great time or not.”
Matt grins, his heart swells in pride and joy, “I’m having a great time, too.”
The night passes far too fast for either of their liking. There seems to be a never ending topic for the both of them to discuss. From the major they’re taking, their roommates, down to how honking your car is illegal here in New York, everything feels like an interesting subject to dissect. Like an overflowing flow of soft ripples that hit your ankles on the beach shore. Soothing and intriguing at the same time.
Both their feet now carry them around the city, directionless yet certainly not lost. She was clutching on his arm, trying to make sure that he wouldn’t trip as they walked through the park and around the neighbourhood. For most it would certainly be the most bland date as neither of them knew where to go nor what to do, but neither of them had any complaints. It was perfect as it is.
Until it wasn’t.
Matt could feel the sudden spike of her heartbeat. Whoever it is that’s standing by the porch, whoever’s house party it is that they stumbled upon, she certainly didn’t have any intention to join nor stopped by at it, yet from the sweat that’s starting to build on her skin, he knew that she has to.
“About time you appear!” Some girl yells, clearly directed at her.
“Shoot,” She mutters, sounding like she was caught red handed over some crime he wasn’t sure about “She’s going to have my head on a spike for this one.”
“Is everything okay?” Matt asks, his brows knitted in confusion.
“Yeah, it’s just my friend’s birthday and I— Fuck,” She curses, running a hand through her hair “I completely forgot it’s today.”
Matt forces a smile, “It’s fine, we can call it a night.”
“No, I’ll be right back,” She whispers to him, squeezing his arm a little before she jogs a little to the group of people on the porch.
“Oh, you’re in so much trouble,” One of the girls says as she approaches them “Gaby’s been asking for you for hours! Your phone’s dead, we couldn’t reach you—,”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” She apologises, she was honest with her apology, Matt could hear it in her heartbeat “I completely forgot about her birthday party, and I double booked tonight, and I just—”
“So you chose to bail on your best friend's birthday instead?” Her friend argues.
“I mean, he’s cute, I would totally bail on Gaby’s birthday too,” Her other friend commented, making Matt smile a little “Who’s he? I didn’t know you’re seeing someone.”
“I— It’s a long story, okay? I’ll tell you guys later,” She frantically says, trying to save herself from the wrath of her friends “I’ll call it a night with him. Please don’t tell Gaby that I forgot about her birthday, okay? Just tell her I overslept or something.”
Matt bites the inner of his cheek. One of the downplay of hearing every and each conversation others have is knowing what’s to come before it actually hits you. Sure it might come as useful for certain times, but Matt was reluctant to bid his goodbye just yet. He wanted the night to last just a little bit longer, to feel her presence just a few hours longer and to walk around with her just a few miles further. Now it’s clear that he would have to scrape those desires off of his list.
“I am so so so sorry about this,” She says as she comes close to him, her words dripping with regret and guilt “I completely forgot about her birthday party and I just— God, we should’ve taken a left from that park.”
Matt chuckles, “We should have, yeah.”
“I’m really sorry,” She says once again “I’d invite you in but I don’t know how Gaby would react with me being four hours late to her birthday party and I really don’t want you to be trialled for it with me.”
“I understand, don’t worry about it.”
“God, I’m really the biggest arsehole there is, huh?”
“For now, yes,” Matt jests “But don’t worry about it. I had a great time.”
“I had a great time, too. Do you.. Do you know the way back?”
Matt nods, “I’ll manage.”
“Okay,” She smiles apologetically, clearly not wanting to part either yet her feet are already moving towards the house as her friends continue to call for her “I’m really sorry, Matt. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Once again, Matt nods and smiles.
He turns his body away from the house, retracing his way back to the campus. Sure it wasn’t the most ideal way to end their date, he feels like he could and deserves to yell a bit to her friends for stealing her away from him ever so rudely like that, but he figures that he’s had his fair share of her tonight. He reminds himself that it was a Friday night. It was honestly a little too good to be true for someone as delightful as her to have her night free of dates and appointments, so to find out that she’s actually booked for a party is certainly not much of a surprise. Matt only wished that he didn’t know it the way he did.
They certainly should’ve taken a left from the park and avoided this neighbourhood altogether.
“Wait, Matt!”
Matt’s pace was put to a halt. He turns back to face the direction of her voice. He could hear her slight pants and the slight jog she made toward him. A small smile returned to his face, “Yes?”
“You surely didn’t think I’d let you go without a kiss, did you?” She asks, her breathing fickle from the short exercise “Or did you not want one?”
“I’d love one,” He says fast “Please.”
Matt’s grip on his cane tightened a little as she took a step closer. She places her arms around his shoulders and Matt swore he suddenly forgets what’s to do with his limbs. He wasn’t sure if he should put his hands on her waist or should he keep still. It was very much out of character for him. He’s had kisses before, had dates with plenty of other girls, but how is it that he has no idea how to act when it comes to her?
When their lips met, Matt swears that he could climb the Empire State Building with his bare hands. It was an uneventful kiss, certainly not the most creative that he’s ever had, but the electricity he felt was beyond compare. It was as if the kisses he’s had before were mere teasers to what it truly is. Like he was deprived of something he’s been so hungry from. Like he was deprived of her.
“I had a great time tonight,” She says as they part, sounding as if the kiss didn’t just flip her whole world upside down like it did to him “I’ll see you soon?”
“Tomorrow,” He promises “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” She agrees through her smile “Goodnight, Matt.”
“Goodnight.”
—-
She chews on her lower lip as if determined to make them bleed once again. Her eyes were glued to the clock, watching as it ticks with each second instead of averting her focus back to the papers on her table. Finishing her tasks prove to be a more challenging issue to tackle with each passing day.
Before she knew it, it was already Thursday. Matt promised to meet her the next day after their date, yet such a promise was never fulfilled. She figured that he might just have to do a rain check about their meeting, perhaps having some last minute task that he has to finish before the weekend ended, but even when Monday comes, he still was a no show.
Sorry, something happened. Will be in touch once it’s resolved. M
Now what should a girl do with such a short message?
Each day she would wake up early to go to the cafe where they first met and each noon when her classes were finished, she would try to run herself to the library, hoping that he would magically pop up out of nowhere like he did the very first night they met. Those efforts prove to be no avail as the expected man never bothered to make an entrance.
She wonders if their abrupt separation was what caused him to ghost her. She argues, the kiss they shared should’ve been enough to make him overlook the unpleasant farewell. It was much more than enough for her end, but could it be that it wasn’t the same for him? Could it be that he was more baffled about her last minute dick move that he decided to cut it off? Could it be that he’s had enough of her?
“Is this seat reserved?”
Her head perched up, excited to hear the familiar voice that she so missed about, “Unfortunately, yes. It’s been reserved for a week, actually.”
Matt shows an apologetic smile, “Is it still reserved?”
“Depends,” She teases, closing her laptop as she realises that there would be no work done for the rest of the night “If the culprit could explain and give a life-threatening excuse to save himself, I suppose he can still claim his reservation.”
“What if he could only offer an apology and say that he’s desperately sorry for being a douche?”
“No explanation?”
Matt hesitates, “No, none that he could disclose.”
“Not even a little?”
“I—,” Matt licks his bottom lip. It was a habit he does whenever he’s nervous, she notices. He takes the seat and rests his white cane on the side of the table. He looks troubled, like he’s trying to piece words in his mind that he’s not familiar with “Look, I.. I don’t exactly have any explanations to give you. I just.. I have been away. And I fear that I will have to be away for more times than I’d like in the future.”
She remains quiet, listening and watching as he tries to speak.
“I like you, a lot. We had the best date of my life last week, but I don’t think I have what you’re looking for,” He continues, looking conflicted and hurt with his own words “I just— I’m sorry, I really hope I could give more than what I have, but at the same time, I selfishly don’t want to lose you either so if we could just— If we could just be friends, I think I would like that very much.”
Matt could sense the piqued beating of her heart. The news he came to bear was certainly bitter, even more to him than her if he could only be so honest. But what happened earlier this week made him realise that he wasn’t in a position to be in a relationship with anyone. Especially not with someone who looks like she’s willing to go the extra mile for him.
It was supposed to be an easy rescue mission. Some petty robbery that happened on some dingy alley of Hell’s Kitchen that he expected to be settled an hour at most, only to turn out to be a complicated one as he came home with more bruises and wounds than he could count. He had to once again lie to Foggy and say that he was the one being robbed by a group of thugs in order to be able to go to their dorm room and sleep in. But as the lies roll off of his tongue, Matt realises that she would be another person he would have to lie to everytime he comes back bruised from a patrol. She would be another person he would have to deceive with excuses that never truly touch the truth. She would be another tally in his long list of people to ask forgiveness from.
And that’s something he doesn’t think he could live in for long.
So he figured to lock himself inside for a couple of days until his bruises heal. He refuses to meet her when he’s still littered with wounds he couldn’t explain to her about. Even when his finger itches to text her, even when his feet were begging him to let them carry him to the library, even when he was yearning for him more than ever, Matt has to hold himself within the walls of his dorm room that feels like they’re closing in with every passing day.
Now that he finally looks decent enough to go back to his classes, he finally gathered the guts to see and talk to her. There was a mix of bittersweet feelings when he sensed her sitting by their table alone. Relieved to know that she’s waiting, yet sorry that he has to come bearing bad news.
“I.. I don’t know what to say,” She says, blinking rapidly as she tries to digest his words “Are you in some kind of trouble, Matt? You can talk to me if you are. We can try and figure it out.”
“No, no, I’m fine,” He answers “It’s more of a.. Me thing. I just have to deal with some things first.”
She nods, feeling a hint of grief pooling in her heart, “I see.”
There was a pause. Neither have the slightest idea to go forward from this. Both clearly want to continue whatever it is they left off, but they’re truly on a stalemate here, aren’t they? What could she do when he’s asked her to let this go and stay as friends instead? What could he do when he wanted to have her close but only have just started to be the Daredevil? What could they do when they have so much to say yet so little to share?
“I’m really sorry,” Matt says instead.
“No, I understand,” She shakes her head, forcing a smile “Friends it is, then.”
And so it begins. The never ending loop of wasting each other’s time for the sake of wasting time. The never ending cycle of stealing a brush of the other’s hand under the table for the sake of accidental touches. The never ending series of pouring each others’ heart through the stories they share just for the sake of sharing. Always more than what friends do, but never less than what lovers should.
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emsdrawings · 8 months
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excited to see more of kristen and fifi & the flowertots’ rivalry
549 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 1 month
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hi!! I read your fics and I love your writing style! I was wondering if you could do something with a human reader, maybe she works in a bookshop or she’s a teacher? And it’s all cute because he finds her genuine??? Maybe some angst because she finds herself in danger? Idk sorry I’m rambling I just wanted something with a human reader 🧍🏻‍♀️💐
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the place where the pages meet
logan howlett x bookseller!reader
4k words, rated explicit.
cocky!logan; awkward!reader; excessive book references; threat of physical violence (quickly averted); anti-mutant language & sentiments; smut (oral - reader receiving, penetrative sex). minors dni. thank you @saradika-graphics for dividers!
The sky is heavy with the promise of rain, and you suck your breath in through your teeth. It’s fifty-fifty on days like these: either people will seek shelter in your little store, or they’ll scurry away with the fear any purchases they make will get soaked and ruined.
God damn it, what kind of fool opens an independent book shop in New York?
You’re the kind of fool, apparently. Still, it’s your home, both figuratively between all the old paperbacks and literally with your tiny apartment on the top floor. Barely more than a studio, but enough for you. A piece for yourself carved out of this world. 
Outside it starts to pour. You sigh. Well, at least you know you’ll get one visitor today.
Charles, your dear friend and long-time financial supporter of your store, had called earlier to let you know that the usual face wouldn’t be coming to grab his order. It’s a shame, you like Ororo, enjoy sitting and sharing a pot of oolong with her on quiet days. Also she could have chased away this terrible weather for you. Ah well. 
“Who can I expect?” you’d asked. 
Charles had laughed, a warm and friendly sound. 
“Ahh, you’ll know Logan when you see him.”
You don’t know what you’d do without Charles. Between orders of rare books for his personal collections and en-masse copies of classics for the kids, he pretty much keeps this place running for you. Bless that man, honestly, because you’re not sure where you’d be without him. 
The sound of someone pulling up outside has you putting down your book and turning towards the shop window. 
A pickup truck parks up by the kerbside and you watch the man in the driver’s seat emerge into the rain. He cuts a fine figure, tall and strong, but you don’t get a good look at him until he walks through the front door. 
Oh no, you think, he’s handsome. 
Leather jacket now pocked with raindrops, very obvious white vest beneath it showing off his broad chest. He shakes like a dog to get the moisture out of his hair as he stamps his boots on the doormat, pausing only briefly to scrutinise its no admittance expect on party business slogan. 
“Logan?” you ask. He looks up and when his eyes first meet yours? Oh, a fire is sent down your spine. 
“Yeah,” he confirms, looking around to take in the place. You can’t tell if he’s impressed or not. He has a remarkably neutral face, careful, the sort of man who doesn’t want to give anything away about himself. 
“You’re… here for Charles’ books?”
He’s sauntering over to the counter now. Cocks an eyebrow. It goes right through you. Fuck. 
“That’d be me.” There’s a beat. “Why, you think someone’d try and steal them?”
“People can steal books!” you say, defensively. 
“People named Logan who you’re clearly expecting?”
You bristle, because he’s got you. Something flickers over his face for a second: a smile. 
Oh no, you think, he’s handsome and he’s an asshole.
Huffing, you fish the box out from under the desk and groan with effort as you lift it up. Logan takes it from your grasp as if it weighs nothing at all. Your fingers touch as you do. You try to ignore it.
“Thanks,” he says, easily.
“Mm. Mind the rain. It’d be a shame if you slipped.”
A proper smile crosses his face then, but he turns away too quickly for you to let it sink in. The bell on the door chimes as he heads back out into the rain.
Well, you hope you never see him again.
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By the same time next week, you’re really hoping you see him again.
You’ve sort of not been able to get him out of your mind. He was kinda prickly, sure, but a welcome break from the mundanity of your life, and pretty good looking to boot. It’s probably just a pipe dream. You’re sure it’ll be Ororo again, and you can go back to the easy pattern of seeing your dear friend. That’s okay. You’re fine with it. Who needs a handsome man? You have your books, you have your store, you’re happy.
Yeah. You’re happy. 
Imagine your surprise, then, when you hear a motorbike outside your shop.
You must be blessed with street parking, because Logan pulls up right outside again. Same jacket, same well-worn jeans. He catches your eye through the window and you’re sure they glisten. You pretend to be engrossed in your book but it’s not fooling anyone, the words swim into soup on the page as you see him approach.
The door goes; he approaches the counter. Closer this time, you can smell him. Tobacco and leather. Fuck it’s good.
“You should wear a helmet,” you say, trying to be flippant. Logan lets out a single, solitary note of a chuckle from deep in his chest.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”
You feel your cheeks heat up and try to hide it by looking for Charles’ order again. It’s a single book, a first edition you had to go through the backwater book depositories to hunt down. You’re the best at what you do, though, so it was no real problem. It’s why he always comes to you.
“Here you go. Let him know I’ll try and find the sequel if he’s interested, too.”
“Sure.”
Once again your fingers touch as you hand the book to Logan. No. No, this is too quick! You want to keep him here for a little while longer. He looks so out of place between the wonky shelves and hanging plants, it’s just perfect.
Your mouth tries to say two things at once: can you tell Charles I’ll have his other order ready same time next week, and, do you like to read often? 
Instead what comes out is, “can you read?”
You must wince when you ask the question, because Logan stands there transfixed. Baffled, just for a second.
“Can I… read?” he repeats slowly. 
I’ve failed you, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t stop your mouth in time, says your brain.
“I didn’t mean… of course you read… I just… I didn’t want to assume… maybe you didn’t like books… erm…”
“Yeah, I read,” he says softly, as if you are an old dog and he is putting you out of your misery. You fucking wish he would. Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve never spoken to another person before.
You can’t find a way to recover this. Your cheeks are on fire. You’re going to explode and burn down your store. Oh authors, you are so sorry for using all these works as kindling.
You expect Logan to turn on his heel and walk out but he… doesn’t. Instead he takes a step back so that he can look at the shelf nearest to the desk. Runs his fingers across the spines before picking one. It’s slim, no more than the width of his finger; he puts it on the counter and fishes his wallet out of his pocket.
In the Miso Soup by Ryū Murakami. You ring him up, punching the price into your old cash register, give him his change. His palm is soft as you drop coins into it. 
“See you next week,” he says, stashing both his book and Charles’ inside his jacket. 
“Okay,” you say, amazed you’re able to get any words out, and watch him walk away again.
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He does see you next week.
The sun’s out, so he’s sans jacket, and oh fuck you can see how his arms are like treetrunks. The way this man has you reacting is unhealthy. You try and focus on the hardback in your hands but all you can picture is those veins which are bulging on his biceps, begging you to come and get to know them better.
“You’re always reading huh?” 
His voice makes you jump a little, you’re not expecting him to be so close. You look up. He slides his sunglasses up into his hair. Fuck it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Would you trust a bookstore owner who didn’t read?” you ask, bristling with the need to defend this little shop and your place in it. He holds his hands up in the universal sign of peace.
“Not an insult, just an observation.”
You sink back from attack mode, walls still a little high, but definitely coming down.
“How did you get on with the Murakami last week?”
Logan takes a moment to consider this, trying to piece his answer together in a way which won’t offend you.
“I liked it until the last chapter.”
You sit up in your chair. 
“Yes! A lot of people say that. It feels like it ends sort of abruptly, but if you just appreciate it for what it is, it’s a good book.”
He smiles a little as you speak. You fucking love talking about books, to a degree some people find absurd. You don’t want to babble though, so you force yourself to end your observations there.
Logan nods at the book in your hands.
“What are you reading now?”
You lift up your book so he can see the cover: A. S. Byatt’s The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye. 
“It’s very good! Byatt has such a wonderful way of writing. I love fairy tales and there’s such a wonderful voice in this one. They made the titular story into a movie a couple of years back, it’s quite good actually, it has Tilda Swinton in it.” You’re floundering. Don’t stray too far from the normal lines of conversation. Mouth, for fuck’s sake stay on course, begs your brain. It doesn’t. Instead you ask, “do you… like Tilda Swinton?”
Logan raises an eyebrow and you know this is a man who has never once had to consider the question of whether or not he likes the actress Tilda Swinton. 
Mouth still talking. MOUTH STILL TALKING, your brain screams. It’s true. It is. You were too busy being horrified to notice.
What your mouth says while being unchaperoned is, “There’s a little single-screen theatre nearby doing a showing of it this week, actually, do you wanna come with?”
DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT. DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT?!
Logan doesn’t seem to know what to make of that. He seems just as shocked that you’ve asked as you are. But then, just as you want to cast yourself into the street so that a passing garbage truck might take pity on you and sweep you away, he smiles. It’s slow, but it makes him look so much hotter.
“Sure, why not.”
Oh mouth you genius. I shall never doubt you again.
“Oh, okay, great! Uhh, are you free Friday?”
“I can be. What time’s the screening?”
“Seven. Meet me here at six-thirty?”
“It’s a date.”
Fuck, it is a date, isn’t it. It’s a date!
Logan stands there, awaiting something. You’re confused for a beat, then go up on your tiptoes, aiming your mouth towards his.
“As much as I appreciate the gesture… Charles’ book, honey.”
Hmmm, okay. Still time for the earth to just swallow you whole then, actually.
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You sort of don’t expect him to turn up. You wouldn’t go on a date with you, all awkward edges and uncomfortable words. And he’s… the coolest fucking guy you’ve ever seen. 
Of course he won’t turn up. Of course he won’t. 
He turns up. 
He’s waiting for you outside the store, leaning against a lamppost, dressed in flannel and smelling like subtle cologne. You can’t help lighting up when you see him and hope you’re dressed suitably - your nicest pair of dungarees and a tight-fitting jumper. 
“Hey! You made it,” you say. 
“‘Course I did,” he replies with a little smile. Oh, you’re giddy. 
“C’mon, it’s not a long walk. It’s a nice night too.”
He lets you chatter as the two of you make the brief journey, content to have you talk his ear off about business and books. He’s happy to answer any questions you ask him about himself: what he does for a living, how he knows Charles, if he’s got anything else on his to-read list. The two of you skirt around the most obvious thing: if he lives at the mansion, he’s definitely a mutant. You can’t quite get the courage to ask him about it. Seems easier to just let it lie, so you do. It’s not that important anyway, you think, you like Logan, with or without any extra bits. 
When you arrive at the little hole-in-the-wall cinema, he gets the tickets and the popcorn and the drinks. You do your best not to feel absolutely pathetic by his side. Surely everyone here knows you’re punching above your weight with this absolute grade A specimen of a man? You’re so busy looking around the foyer to make sure nobody is staring that you almost don’t realise when he takes your hand in his.
“You with me, honey?” he asks, soft, low. You swallow thickly and nod because for once, you can’t find the words.
It’s not a very full screening, which is just fine, because you’re happy to be alone with Logan in the dark. You share a bucket of popcorn and a secret little thrill runs up your spine every time your fingers brush together. When that’s finished, he puts his arm around the back of your chair and you snuggle up against his side, cursing the damn plastic cupholder in the middle forcing you to keep a distance. 
One hundred and eight minutes. They’re not enough. You want to be here forever. But eventually the credits roll, the lights come up, and Logan has to pull his arm back; you hope the reluctance in the withdrawal of the gesture isn’t just your imagination. 
“What did you think?” you ask, standing up and stretching. Logan follows suit, mulling over the question. 
“It was… cute,” he decides. “I can see why you like it.” 
You beam. 
“I can lend you the book if you want. It goes into way more detail about the main character’s life at the start, it’s very stream-of-consciousness but I really enjoy it? It’s different to the other stories before it but definitely worth reading. I think that…”
You’re outside now, under the streetlights, fingers tangled easily with his, and when he stills you’re pulled to a stop too. 
“Hmm?”
He drops his grip on your hand so that he can put one under your jaw, tilting your head to get a better look at you. Your heart beats violently. He can definitely feel it. He knows. You don’t care. Fuck, he’s so near. 
“You talk a lot, huh?” he asks. It’s not unkind, the smile on his face is one of fondness, and all of your skeleton turns to jelly as you fucking melt under the affection in his gaze. 
“Please shut me up,” your beg comes out as a whisper, and he does. 
His lips are rough against yours, guiding, but sweet. The hair on his face tickles your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down to kiss him with more enthusiasm. This is not a public-appropriate display of affection, and someone honks their car horn at you both, but it just serves to make you laugh against his mouth and keep going. His hands slide onto your hips and hold you tight against him. Possessive. Wanting. Covetous. 
“You know,” he says when he pulls back for air, still running his lips along the line of your jaw to the hinge beneath your ear, “when Charles told me I should go and get those books, he said I’d like the person who runs the store. Didn’t expect you to be such a gorgeous little thing, though.”
You, gorgeous! Logan thinks you’re gorgeous! You could do a fucking cartwheel in celebration. You don’t though, you’d probably give yourself a concussion. 
His hand goes to his pocket and his brow furrows and, for a second, you panic. Has he started regretting kissing you already? Another quick kiss calms that down though, settling the simmer of worry in your stomach. 
“I think I left my wallet in the theatre. Hold on, I’ll grab it, then I’ll walk you home?”
“Only if you come in with me,” you breathe, and once again your mouth has taken the reins on that one. Logan huffs a laugh, a little incredulous, but mostly pleased at your gumption. 
“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”
He leaves you standing there, feeling all tingly. This is happening. It’s fucking happening! Sometimes the stars align for a book nerd and a handsome guy wants to come up to their studio apartment. You thank Jesus, Buddha, Arthur C. Clarke - whoever is listening, they fucking deserve it. 
“You gonna fuck that mutant?”
The voice sends a chill down your throat. 
The trio of guys standing behind you do not look friendly. The biggest one, the one standing in the middle, sneers at your panic, crossing thick arms over a broad chest.
“Well? I asked you a question.”
You screw your courage to the sticking place, puffing up a little. 
“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you spit back, hoping that vitriol will deter them. It does not. Instead, they close in, hyenas around a cadaver. 
“Never had a human dick you down good enough, huh? Need a little help? C’mon baby, we’ll show you.”
He reaches out to grab your arm. You let out a noise of panic. 
At the same time, Logan’s fist collides with his face. 
The guy is sent stumbling back, spitting out a globule of blood. His friends step away with panic in their eyes. Logan moves in front of you, his bulk your shield, three metal claws extending from between his knuckles. 
Yeah. Mutant, huh?
“I think you were just leaving, pal,” says Logan in a voice which doesn’t bear messing with. The man bares his reddened teeth. 
“The fuck do you think you are, mutant scum--?!”
He lunges for Logan and the breath is sucked from your lungs when you see he’s pulling out a fucking knife, but another punch sends him flat on his ass. The blade clatters across the street and into the gutter. His friends grab either one of his arms and half stand him up, half drag him away.
“Shit, it’s not worth it—!” is their conclusion as they disappear into the night, shouting back expletives, blood trailing from their leader. Logan shakes out his fist, flexes his fingers; claws retract. He turns to you, slowly. 
“You okay?” he asks, hurriedly checking you over. You nod. 
“Y…yeah. Shaken.” you confess. 
“C'mon. Let’s get you home,” he sighs, and from the cadence of his voice you can tell he’s worried the night has been ruined. You place your hand on his bicep. 
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you still… will you still come up?”
He softens. 
“If it’ll make you feel safer, sweetheart.”
It does. 
And that’s how you find him sitting on your well-loved couch in between your needlepoint pillows, looking around your tiny home as you make a pot of coffee to share. 
“Jesus, you’ve got more books in here than in the store,” he mutters. 
“Well, some of them I couldn’t part with. I like them too much. And, as you pointed out, I am always reading.”
You look around at the shelves stuffed into your flat, the dozens of them holding hundreds of novels, plays, poems. You love them all dearly. They all hold a special piece of your heart, you can remember where you were when you read most of them. (Downstairs while manning the desk is often the answer). 
“Oh, even this?”
You can hear the smile in Logan’s voice. He’s holding up a copy of Fifty Shades. You scoff, rolling your eyes. 
“Christ, I read that as a professional courtesy to the art of bookselling. Got it for fifty cents at a thrift store. It’s crap. If you want some good erotica I can recommend…”
The sentence lingers unfinished. Logan raises his eyebrows. 
“You can recommend what, huh?”
The coffee is ready. You can smell its rich scent enveloping your little apartment. An idea forms. Creates a heavy anticipation on your tongue. Your brain screams at you. 
Locked. Loaded. Fire, mouth, fire!
“… then I’d recommend you take me to bed,” you say.
Logan stares, eyes wide. You’ve had an immediate effect on him. His pupils dilate. 
“I… honey, after earlier, I’m not sure if you should…”
You cross the room and sit on his lap, an easy feat when his legs are so thick and inviting. His sentence stops as you press your mouth to the pulse in his neck. Kiss. 
“I’m a consenting adult,” a kiss on his cheek, “who’s invited you into their home,” a kiss on his brow, “and is asking you to take them across their painfully tiny apartment and fuck them. If you don’t want to, that’s okay, but Logan? I’ve been game ever since you first walked in from the rain.”
He looks up at you to double check that you’re telling the truth, then kisses you with such ferocity that you squeak. 
You do not make it to the bed. 
He undresses you there on the sofa in the middle of your bookshelves, between Brontë and Austen, beside Carter and Rushdie. Your clothes end up in a messy little pile on the coffee table. It gets kicked and the pile of literary magazines slide to the floor as Logan moves to take off his shoes, letting you drag his jeans down and off of him, cupping his cock in his boxers.
Fuck. Thick, heavy, large, you want all of it. All of him. 
He leans you back against your kitschy little pillows with book quotes on them and pulls your dungarees off, an act both ridiculous and endearing. He catches your knee in his hand and begins to kiss up your thigh towards your underwear.
“Fuck,” you whisper as he presses a kiss to your sex over the fabric. He grins up at you from between your legs. 
“That was the plan.”
He fucks you with his mouth like a man starved, luxuriating in the little sounds you make for him, pressing fingers inside you without any effort at all. You cum all over his knuckles embarrassingly quickly. He looks sorta smug. 
“Baby, when was the last time someone took care of you…?” he asks, licking a stripe along your sex to taste what he’s done. You huff. 
“Too long. You gonna fix that?”
It’s a challenge and he takes it as one. You strip off his shirt, making sure to get a good feel of his muscles as you go, kissing his pectorals and abs just because you can. He slides inside you with one thrust, one of your legs in a crook at his hip; the other with its ankle resting on his shoulder. He starts moving and the couch shakes but all you can do is cling on for dear life to the crocheted blanket. 
“Holy shit… so fuckin’ tight… aren’t you just the most gorgeous thing…” he hisses. You reach up enough to tangle your fingers in his hair and drag him down for a kiss, sloppy and charged with heat. His hand moves in between your legs and you cum for the second time that night, hissing with satisfaction as he spills inside you. 
You collapse onto the sofa together, your heavy breaths harmonising. When he pulls back to kiss you this time it’s softer. With intention. With reference. 
“Uh, you know, they’re showing To Kill a Mockingbird next week. Maybe dinner beforehand, if you’re interested?”
He laughs affectionately and you can feel the rumble in his chest.
“Sounds good. You’ll have to lend me the book first.”
Fuck yeah. You’re never doubting your mouth again. 
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Taglist: @falsewordz@malfoys-demigod@belilwen@mildly-salted@tvwebs@childeslegstrap@getmeoutofhell@s1eep-o@just-a-beatlemaniac69@yrthr@momopad@sugarplumz100@captainjinkx@madspads@acrosstheunivcrse@yeethaw13@na-is-salty@florduarte@hunterispunk@starfleetteddybear
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reidmarieprentiss · 2 months
Text
Finding Home Again: Part One
Summary: Y/N meets Spencer Reid when she is 11-years-old, her older brother, Adam, is his classmate and friend. They reconnect at Adam's wedding.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff, angst, one bed trope
Warnings/Includes: mild bullying, name calling, bisexual spencer reid (it's canon to me), wedding activities, swimming in underwear, alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress, suggestive content (16+), commitment issues, emotionally unavailable parents, bad relationship with parents, confrontation
Word count: 12.4k
a/n: part two is here!!
main masterlist
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Spencer Reid was a terrified 8-year-old freshman in high school. As he navigated the crowded hallways, his small frame was easily overlooked, but his presence still drew strange looks and whispered comments. He felt extremely uncomfortable and out of place, his heart pounding with every step. By the end of the day, he still hadn't had a single student offer any help or kindness to him. 
His last class of the day was Algebra 2, and he felt a flicker of hope. Math had always been his sanctuary, a place where numbers and equations made sense when nothing else did. When he walked into the classroom, he noticed that there was assigned seating. Relief washed over him; at least he wouldn't have to struggle to find somewhere to sit.
As everyone got settled in, Spencer found his assigned seat next to a tall, friendly-looking boy. Before he had a chance to take out his notebook, the boy turned to him and smiled warmly.
"I'm Adam," he said, extending his hand for a handshake.
Spencer looked at the hand and then back up at Adam, feeling a wave of anxiety. "Hi, I'm Spencer, and I don't shake hands," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Adam laughed, not in a mean way, but with genuine amusement. "Hi, Spencer who doesn't shake hands. It's nice to meet you."
Spencer felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. For the first time that day, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, high school wouldn't be so bad after all.
— 
Y/N had spent the past few years immersed in the bustling streets and rich culture of Paris, attending a prestigious boarding school that promised to refine her language skills and broaden her horizons. Yet, despite the allure of the City of Light, she often felt the sting of loneliness, her parents' distance echoing even across the ocean. Now, at age 11, she was returning home a month earlier than the American school year ended, her heart a mix of exhaustion and anticipation.
As the chauffeur-driven car pulled up to the grand but cold mansion in the suburbs of Las Vegas, Y/N's heart sank. She had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that her parents would be there to greet her. Instead, the familiar figure of their chauffeur, Robert, was the one to open the car door.
"Welcome home, Miss Y/N," he said with a polite smile.
She forced a smile in return, hiding her disappointment. "Thank you, Robert."
Dragging her feet along the paved path, she entered the house, its opulence doing little to warm the cold emptiness she felt. She made her way to the living room, hoping to find solace in the familiarity of home, but instead, she was met with the unexpected sight of her brother, Adam, and a group of his friends, hunched over textbooks and notebooks.
"Hey, Y/N!" Adam greeted her with a grin, looking up from his textbook. "Welcome back!"
"Hi," she replied, her voice flat. She was too tired and too upset to muster any enthusiasm. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing the familiar faces of her brother's friends that she’d seen in pictures he’d sent. When her eyes finally landed on a boy who was clearly much younger than the rest, with tousled brown hair and a slightly awkward demeanor. He looked up, meeting her gaze with a mixture of curiosity and shyness.
“Who are you?” Y/N hadn’t meant to be rude, she was just slightly shocked to see someone her own age among the older boys.
"This is Spencer," Adam introduced, gesturing to the boy. "Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She just got back from Paris."
"Hi," Spencer said softly, offering a small, tentative smile.
"Hi," Y/N replied, her frustration momentarily forgotten as she took in the boy who seemed as out of place in their luxurious home as she felt. "Nice to meet you."
"Sorry we're invading the living room," Adam said, noticing her weariness. "We're just cramming for finals. Spencer here is a genius when it comes to math and science, so he's been helping us out."
Y/N nodded, her exhaustion catching up with her. "It's fine. I just need to rest, so please, no screaming about fractions."
She turned to head upstairs, her feet thudding against each step as she climbed. She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards the study group, wishing she had that kind of camaraderie during her time in Paris. They didn’t take well to American’s, no matter how long she was there nor how fluent she spoke. But more than anything, she wished her parents had cared enough to be there when she came home.
The summer before his senior year stretched out long and hot, with the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the hum of cicadas. Adam, now balancing a job cleaning pools and the pressures of preparing for SATs, ACTs, and college applications, found his days filled to the brim. He wasn't working for the money; his parents' wealth ensured he never had to worry about that. But he wanted to break free from the golden cage, to carve out a future where he wasn’t reliant on his parents.
Y/N watched from the sidelines as her brother’s schedule became increasingly packed. She missed the days when they would goof around together, but understood that Adam had his own life to lead. Meanwhile, Spencer Reid found himself spending more and more time with Adam. Spencer wasn't old enough to work yet, but his days were equally busy with preparations for the same academic hurdles.
One hot afternoon, Adam and Spencer were sitting on the back porch, textbooks and notes spread out between them. Adam was explaining a particularly tricky math problem, his hair falling into his eyes as he spoke. Spencer listened intently, his eyes occasionally flicking up to Adam's face, a subtle admiration in his gaze.
"Got it?" Adam asked, looking over at Spencer with a friendly smile.
Spencer nodded, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Yeah, thanks. You're really good at explaining things."
Adam laughed lightly, clapping Spencer on the back. "No problem, buddy. We make a good team, huh?"
Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the casual touch, his mind racing with unspoken feelings. "Yeah, we do."
Their interactions were always like this—simple, friendly, but with an undercurrent of something more for Spencer. He couldn't help the crush that had developed, even though he knew it was impossible. Adam was older, focused on his future, and saw Spencer as a friend, maybe even a little brother.
One day, as they were packing up their study materials, Adam glanced over at Spencer. "Hey, thanks for helping me stay on track this summer. I know I’ve been busy, but it’s been cool hanging out with you."
Spencer smiled, the words warming his heart. "It's been cool for me too. I’ve learned a lot."
"You're gonna ace those tests, no doubt," Adam said with a confident grin. "And who knows, maybe we'll end up at the same college."
Spencer's eyes lit up at the thought, but he quickly tempered his excitement, not wanting to seem too eager. "Yeah, that would be great."
As Adam slung his bag over his shoulder and headed inside, Spencer lingered on the porch for a moment, watching him go. He knew his feelings for Adam would likely never be reciprocated, but he cherished these moments of closeness, however fleeting they might be.
Y/N observed all this from her bedroom window, a quiet observer to the crush Spencer clearly had on her older brother. She felt the green monster of jealousy coil up inside of her. Why doesn’t Spencer look at her like that? Is she not as smart as Adam? Not as funny? Maybe he only likes older people.
One particularly warm day, Spencer was over to help Adam revise an application essay. They were hanging out by the pool, both to Spencer's excitement and frustration. He didn't want to take his shirt off in front of Adam; he was so scrawny compared to the man Adam was becoming. He didn't even have hair under his arms yet! Spencer found himself getting worked up over the muscle Adam had put on while cleaning pools, feeling increasingly self-conscious.
"Hey, I'm going to grab some lemonade," Spencer said, trying to keep his voice steady as he got up from his lounge chair.
Adam looked up from his notes and nodded. "Sure thing, grab some for me too, will ya?"
Spencer nodded and walked briskly into the house, his thoughts a whirl of admiration and insecurity. As he poured himself a glass of lemonade, having kindly turned down the offer from one of the kitchen staff to do it for him, Y/N walked into the kitchen in a swimsuit. She knew what she was doing; she wanted to see if Spencer would look at her like he did her brother.
"Hi, Spencer," she greeted, her voice casual but her eyes searching.
Spencer almost dropped the pitcher, startled by her sudden appearance. "H-hi, Y/N..."
"How’s it going? Is it hot out there?" she asked, leaning against the counter with an air of nonchalance.
"Mhm, it's hot and, uh, yeah, good. You?" Spencer stammered, trying to keep his eyes on her face and not let them wander. Stupid hormones.
"I'm good, bored. Think I'm gonna go for a swim," Y/N replied, giving him a pointed look.
Spencer swallowed hard, feeling his face heat up. "Oh, cool. Swimming sounds nice."
Y/N nodded. "You should join me sometime. It’s a good way to cool off, especially on days like this."
"I, uh, maybe," Spencer managed, his voice cracking slightly.
She smiled at him. "Well, I'll be out there if you change your mind."
With that, she turned and walked out towards the pool, leaving Spencer standing there, his heart racing. He couldn't help but feel a confusing mix of emotions. He liked Y/N; she was kind and funny in her own way. But his feelings for Adam were something different, something he couldn't quite understand or control.
As he walked back outside with the lemonade, he caught sight of Y/N cannonballing into the pool. Adam looked up and waved Spencer over, oblivious to the tension Spencer was feeling.
"Thanks, man," Adam said, taking the glass from Spencer. "You should take a dip too. Y/N's got the right idea; it's a great way to beat the heat."
Spencer nodded, trying to smile. "Maybe later."
He sat back down, trying to focus on the essay in front of him, but his mind kept wandering. He glanced over at Y/N, who was swimming leisurely, and then at Adam, who was scribbling notes in the margin of his paper. Spencer felt like he was caught in the middle of something he didn't quite understand, struggling to find his place in the dynamics of this family that had become so important to him.
The day of Adam's graduation was filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Adam, ever the unexpected, had committed to Florida State, a decision that had shocked and horrified many. Spencer could hardly believe it when he heard the news. Florida State, a school notorious for its party culture, seemed an odd choice for someone who had always been so focused on academics. But Adam was a party boy through and through, and now, with the immense college fund his parents had set up for him, he had the freedom to choose his own path.
That night, Adam's family mansion was abuzz with a grand celebration party. The opulent rooms were filled with friends, family, and well-wishers, all toasting to Adam's future. Spencer, though trying to be happy for his friend, felt a gnawing sense of sadness and anxiety. Graduating at only 12-years-old and moving away to college meant leaving behind the only family that had ever felt like his.
As the party continued, Spencer found himself feeling more and more overwhelmed. Seeking solace, he looked around for Y/N. He found her standing by the grand staircase, looking as though she was taking a brief respite from the festivities.
"Y/N," he called softly, and she turned to him, her eyes filled with concern at his slightly panicked appearance.
"Hey, Spencer," she said gently, sensing his turmoil. "Do you want to go outside?"
Spencer nodded, grateful for her intuition. She led him out of the mansion and into the expansive garden. The night air was cool and soothing, and the garden was a haven of tranquility away from the noise of the party. They walked in silence for a while, the stars twinkling above them like scattered diamonds.
Y/N finally stopped at a secluded spot, a bench under a large oak tree. She sat down and patted the space next to her. Spencer joined her, taking a deep breath as he looked up at the sky.
"I can't believe he's going to Florida State," Spencer said, his voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of sadness.
Y/N nodded. "Yeah, it's a surprise, but it's his choice. He’s an adult now."
Spencer sighed. "I know. It's just... I'm going to miss him. And you. This place feels like home, and now I'm leaving."
Y/N placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll miss you too, Spencer. But you'll do amazing things, I know it. You've always been great."
He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "It's just... scary, you know? Moving away, being on my own. What if I don't fit in?"
Y/N smiled warmly. "You will. You always do."
They sat in comfortable silence, gazing up at the stars. The night was calm, the garden a peaceful contrast to the lively celebration inside. Spencer felt a sense of peace wash over him, comforted by Y/N's presence and her words.
"Thank you," he said softly, looking over at her. "For being here. For understanding."
Y/N squeezed his shoulder gently. "I’ll always be here for you, Spencer."
As they sat together, the weight of the impending changes felt a little lighter. The stars above seemed to shine a bit brighter, and for the first time that night, Spencer felt a glimmer of hope for the future.
24 years old now, Spencer Reid hadn't thought about Adam in years, but when the invitation arrived in the mail, it brought back a flood of memories. He held the ornate envelope in his hands, his heart pounding with a mix of nostalgia and nerves. The invitation was to Adam's wedding, an event that promised to reunite old friends and acquaintances. Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of obligation to attend. Adam had always been kind to him during those tumultuous high school years.
Despite his apprehension, Spencer decided to go. He meticulously planned his trip, ensuring he had everything he needed to make a good impression. The journey to the wedding venue in Napa Valley, California was a blur of anxious thoughts and memories of the past. As he arrived at the grand hotel where the event was being held, he felt a knot of nerves tightening in his stomach.
Meanwhile, Y/N was also preparing for the wedding. She couldn't help but feel excitement and trepidation at the thought of seeing Spencer again, Adam informed her that he had RSVP’d yes. She had always harbored a silly little crush on him, one that had persisted through the years despite their long separation. The idea of seeing him again, older and perhaps changed, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.
The wedding weekend began with a flurry of activities. The hotel was abuzz with guests arriving, mingling, and catching up. Spencer found himself lost in the crowd, his nerves making it difficult to relax. As he checked in at the front desk, the receptionist handed him a key card with a polite smile.
"Here you go, Dr. Reid. Room 212," she said.
Spencer thanked her and made his way to the elevator, his mind racing with thoughts of what the weekend could entail. He arrived at the door to his room and swiped the key card. As he pushed the door open, he was met with an unexpected sight.
Y/N was standing in the middle of the room, her back to him as she attempted to pull up the zipper of her dress. Upon hearing the door open, she spun around with a scream, holding the dress to her chest.
“What the fuck!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.
“I’m so sorry!” Spencer stammered, equally startled.
“Spencer?” she said, her expression shifting from surprise to recognition.
“Y/N?” he replied, still trying to process what was happening.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, still clutching the dress to her chest.
“I don’t know, this is the room I was told I'm staying in. My key opened the door…” he explained, holding up the key card as if it could somehow explain everything.
“Shit. Okay. Something must have gotten messed up. I'll check it out as soon as I'm dressed,” Y/N said, her tone calming slightly.
“Okay. Yeah. I’ll just leave you be,” Spencer said, starting to back out of the room.
“Actually… Spencer, could you help me with the zipper?” Y/N asked, her voice softer and a bit embarrassed.
Spencer paused, his face flushing. “Uh, sure. Of course.”
He stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him. Y/N turned around, holding her hair up to give him access to the zipper. His hands trembled slightly as he grasped the zipper, carefully pulling it up the back of her dress.
“Thank you,” she said softly once he had finished.
“No problem,” Spencer replied, stepping back and trying to keep his eyes respectfully averted.
She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, let’s go sort this out. Maybe the front desk can figure out what happened.”
As they left the room together, Spencer couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of awkwardness and nostalgia. Despite the initial shock, there was something oddly comforting about being in Y/N’s presence again. 
"So you're saying every single room in the entire hotel is booked? How is that even possible?” Y/N asked, her frustration evident.
“Well, miss, your wedding party is not the only group staying here. It is a very popular vineyard, especially at this time of year,” the receptionist explained calmly.
“So what you’re saying is we have to share this room?” Y/N pressed, trying to find a solution.
“You could stay with someone else, but yes, there are no more rooms available,” the receptionist confirmed.
Y/N sighed deeply, rubbing between her brows. “Okay. Thank you.”
Spencer and Y/N walked away from the desk, both trying to process the situation. Spencer broke the silence with a lighthearted joke. “Hopefully this is the worst thing that will happen this weekend.”
Y/N looked at him, a mix of apology and stress in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t mean to make you think I’d hate to share a room with you… it’s just, this weekend is already going to be stressful.”
“Hey, no, I’m sorry for teasing. It’s okay. It will be like the sleepovers we had as kids,” Spencer said, trying to reassure her.
“You mean where you and Adam slept in the game room and I stayed as far away as possible?” Y/N responded, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
“Exactly,” Spencer bubbled with laughter, the tension between them easing a bit.
They made their way back to their shared room, Spencer couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic, thinking back to those simpler times. Y/N, too, found herself feeling a bit more at ease, her initial worries about the weekend beginning to fade. 
Once they were back in the room, Y/N looked over at Spencer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was going to pretend to be courteous and ask what side of the bed you prefer… but I have to sleep next to the window,” she announced, a playful smile on her lips.
“Oh, well, thank you for almost considering my feelings!” Spencer laughed, his tension easing. “I don’t mind either way, but if you snore half as bad as your brother, I’m putting a pillow over your face.”
“Oh my god, that man could cut down trees with that chainsaw he keeps in his mouth!” Y/N exclaimed, her laughter filling the room.
They shared some giggles, the awkwardness between them dissolving into familiarity and warmth.
“It’s really nice to see you, Spencer,” Y/N said sincerely, her eyes softening as she looked at him.
“You too, Y/N. You look so grown up,” Spencer replied, noting the elegance and maturity in her appearance.
“Well, 12 years will do that to someone,” she said with a chuckle, her gaze lingering on him.
“Not me, I still look the same,” Spencer said, shaking his head with a wry smile.
“Yeah,” Y/N tilted her head to the side, studying his face. “You really haven’t changed at all.”
“Okay, easy now,” Spencer protested lightly, a blush creeping up his cheeks.
“Did you ever grow armpit hair?” she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Hey!” Spencer exclaimed, trying to defend his dignity.
“Oh, come on, Spencer! Show me!” Y/N teased further, taking a playful step towards him.
“No, Y/N. Hey, get away from me!” Spencer laughed as Y/N chased him around the room, her determination to see his armpits turning into a playful game.
With a burst of energy, Y/N ended up tackling him to the bed, sitting successfully on his stomach. “Give it up, Spencer, I win.”
���Nope!” he yelled triumphantly before using all his strength to flip her, pinning her down and tickling her.
Y/N cackled and shouted, “Uncle! Uncle!” between fits of laughter.
When Spencer finally pulled back, they both noticed the precarious position they were in. Spencer was between Y/N’s thighs with his hands by her head, both of them panting in each other’s mouths. The laughter faded as they locked eyes, the weight of the years apart and the sudden closeness creating a charged moment.
“I need to get ready for the rehearsal dinner,” Y/N whispered.
Spencer took the cue and got off of Y/N and the bed. “Mhm, yup. Me too.”
“Um, I showered when I got here. So, uh, I’ll just go get ready in the bridal suite. You can have the room,” Y/N said as she gathered the things she would need to get ready.
“Y/N… you don’t have to leave, I’m sorry.”
“What? Nothing to be sorry about. Just giving you your privacy. See you later, Spencer.”
“Yeah, see—” but she had already shut the door behind her. 
Spencer ran his hands over his face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and confusion. What had he been thinking? The sudden intimacy had caught him off guard, and now he felt a pang of regret for how awkward things had become. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and began preparing for the rehearsal dinner, hoping the rest of the evening would go more smoothly.
— 
Y/N was not a bridesmaid, but she was fine with that. She wasn't all that interested in the responsibilities and duties that came with it anyway. She was still very close with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Elizabeth, and it was no problem for her to get ready in the bridal suite. Once she explained the mix-up with the rooms, Elizabeth was extremely apologetic and understanding.
At the rehearsal dinner, Y/N’s seat was, of course, next to Spencer’s. He had arrived before her, which meant she spotted the back of his head before she sat down, giving her time to make a run for the open bar before making her way to the table.
As she sat down, Spencer looked over and his breath caught at the sight of her. Y/N looked absolutely radiant in her rehearsal dinner attire. The outfit suited her perfectly, complementing all of her assets and making her eyes shine. Maybe he had been silly to waste all those years alongside her chasing after her brother when she was right there. Although, he figured it probably would have been difficult to maintain a long-distance relationship at 12 while he was in university.
“Hey,” Y/N greeted him, her smile warm and genuine.
“Hi,” Spencer replied, still a bit breathless. “You look... amazing.”
“Thanks,” she said, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
Spencer chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Thanks. It’s nice to be here. I mean, it’s been so long.”
“Yeah, it has,” Y/N agreed, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s crazy how time flies.”
As they settled into conversation, the initial awkwardness from earlier seemed to dissipate. They talked about their lives, their work, and the memories from their youth, finding common ground and shared experiences. The laughter and joyfulness that had once defined their friendship began to resurface, making the evening feel less like a reunion of strangers and more like a gathering of old friends.
Throughout the dinner, Spencer couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N, marveling at how she had grown into such a beautiful and confident woman. The realization that he might have missed something special by focusing so much on Adam gnawed at him, but he tried to push those thoughts aside and enjoy the present moment.
After all the speeches were given and the eating was rehearsed, the youngest and oldest of the crowd turned into their rooms for the night. The bridal party and groomsmen left as well, all needing to be up very early. This left the young to middle-aged adults to the complimentary after-dinner party. There were free drinks, a dance floor, karaoke, and dimmed lighting.
Y/N looked over at Spencer, not knowing if this was his cup of tea or not. “Do you want to stay for a bit?”
The idea of cutting the night short didn't sit well with him, especially not with how Y/N was looking at him. “No, no, I'd like to stay if you do.”
“Sure,” she smiled. “I’ll stay.”
The two walked over to the bar to get a drink. Spencer had very rarely indulged in alcohol. Gideon had tried to introduce him to scotch, which he hated. Hotch had shown him whiskey, which wasn’t as bad but still too strong. Derek ordered him a Sex on the Beach that he really liked but was too embarrassed to order on his own. So he didn't know what he was going to do when the bartender looked at him.
“What will you have, miss?” the bartender asked Y/N.
“Just an appletini, please,” she replied. The bartender nodded and turned his attention to Spencer.
Spencer could feel his palms sweat as he ran over every drink he knew of. Y/N leaned over and asked, “Do you want me to order for you?”
Spencer nodded gratefully and whispered his order in her ear. Y/N pulled away, absolutely delighted. She told the bartender his drink before looking back to Spencer and saying, “At least ask me on a date first, you men are all the same,” teasing the poor red man.
Spencer blushed furiously but couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you,” he said, his embarrassment mingling with amusement.
The bartender soon returned with their drinks—Y/N’s appletini and Spencer’s Sex on the Beach. Y/N handed Spencer his drink, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Here you go, pervert. Enjoy.”
Spencer blushed even more, laughing despite himself. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip and feeling the sweet, fruity flavors calm his nerves.
They moved to a small table near the dance floor, the music a pleasant background to their conversation. Y/N sipped her drink and looked around, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.
“So, Dr. Reid,” she began, her tone playful, “what’s your favorite part about weddings?”
Spencer thought for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips. “Honestly, I’ve never been to a wedding before. Have you?”
Y/N nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah. I think my favorite part is the dancing. I’ve always wanted someone to swing me around the dance floor at a wedding, it looks so romantic.”
Spencer took note of what Y/N was saying, thinking that maybe he could be the one to dance her around tomorrow at the reception. “You know, I never said thank you,” Spencer said.
“For what?” Y/N tilted her head.
“For being nice to me, you and Adam both. You never laughed at me or made me feel weird for being so young and advanced.”
“Spencer…” Y/N said with a hint of questioning in her voice. “Why would we make fun of you for being smart? Oh ha ha, look at this guy, he knows way more than us.”
Spencer chuckled. “I know, but still, thank you.”
Y/N smiled warmly, reaching across the table to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. “You’re welcome, Spencer. You’ve always been special to us.”
Spencer felt his heart grow ten sizes at her words, 'us,' and the fact that Y/N remembered his aversion for touching hands. Screw Adam and Elizabeth, he’d marry Y/N tomorrow. Now, that might be a little dramatic, but whatever.
As Spencer and Y/N continued to catch up and enjoy each other's company, they also consumed more drinks. The alcohol birthed an idea in Y/N’s pretty head, quite a good one if she says so.
“Spencer,” she leaned in, her voice playful.
“Yes, ma'am,” he responded, also leaning in until their foreheads pressed together.
Y/N giggled before sharing her idea, “We should go swimming.”
“What? Where?” Spencer asked, bewildered.
“The hotel has a pool!” she exclaimed, her excitement infectious.
“Isn’t it closed by now?” Spencer asked, skeptical but intrigued.
“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head against his, her movement causing his glasses to brush against her eyebrows. “It’s open 24/7.”
Spencer was nervous; he knew Y/N liked to swim, but he wasn’t very good at it, not having done much swimming since his last summer with Adam. But he couldn’t say no to her, it would appear.
“Okay, let’s go,” he agreed, the decision making his heart race.
Y/N squealed in delight, grabbing Spencer by his bicep and dragging him behind her. She squeezed the muscle in her hand before wiggling her eyebrows at him and saying, “Wow, doctor, did you put on some muscle?”
Spencer blushed something fierce. “I had to, I’m in the FBI.”
“Ohh good, I’m gonna need a big strong man in case we get into danger,” Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Spencer felt like he already was in danger, but a kind he was willing to face.
Once at the pool, they were both relieved to find no one else there; it was pretty late after all. As they approached the water, Spencer suddenly realized a flaw in Y/N's plan.
“Y/N, wait,” he grabbed her arm. “What about swimsuits?”
She smirked at him and pulled her arm away before grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it off. Spencer's eyes were as wide as saucers, hilariously magnified by his frames.
“Close your mouth, doctor. Wouldn't want you to catch flies,” she teased, and with that, she jumped into the pool.
As Y/N resurfaced, Spencer noticed her makeup was impressively intact, probably some of that new waterproof stuff they make. She swam over to the edge in front of Spencer before looking up at him with a gaze not unlike a siren luring in prey.
“Come on in, Spence. The water feels amazing,” she coaxed, her voice soft and inviting.
Spencer, under the influence of something much stronger than alcohol, started shedding his clothes down to his briefs. Y/N wolf-whistled once he had his shirt off, causing a full-body flush to take over him. As soon as he was down to his last article, he jumped into the water to avoid her staring any longer.
The cool water enveloped him, a refreshing contrast to the heat he felt under Y/N's gaze. He surfaced, pushing his hair back and adjusting his glasses, which had miraculously stayed on.
“There you are,” Y/N said, swimming over to him. “Isn’t this nice?”
“Yeah,” Spencer admitted, feeling a bit more at ease now that he was in the water. “It’s actually really nice.”
“Are you ready?” Y/N asked, her voice low and taunting, getting very close to Spencer in the water, their bodies almost touching.
Spencer felt like he was going to pass out. “Re–ready for what?”
“Race ya!” she exclaimed, and with that, she was off, swimming away with powerful strokes.
Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden challenge. Then, with a determined look, he launched himself after her, his competitive spirit kicking in despite his nerves. The cool water rushed past him as he swam, his strokes becoming more confident as he pushed himself to keep up with Y/N.
She reached the far end of the pool first, touching the wall and turning to see Spencer still making his way towards her. She laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night air.
“You’re slow, Dr. Reid!” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Spencer reached the wall, panting but smiling. “Not all of us are part fish, Y/N.”
“Hey, I’m not that fast,” she said with a playful pout. “You did pretty well for someone who has never won a swimming race, ever.”
“Thanks,” Spencer replied, catching his breath. “But next time, I’ll beat you.”
“Oh, is that a challenge?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” he said, feeling bolder. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“I like when you get cocky, it suits you,” Y/N said, her voice dropping to a flirtatious purr as she swam closer to him, their bodies almost touching again.
Spencer's heart pounded in his chest. “Oh really? I didn’t know I had it in me.”
“There’s a lot you have in you, Spencer,” she replied, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made his breath catch. “Maybe you just need the right person to bring it out.”
“And who, um–who do you think that person is?” he asked, his voice trembling and nervous.
“Someone who,” she whispered, her lips just inches from his. “Would have se–”
“Hey! What are you two doing in here?” a security guard called out.
“Nothing!” Spencer yelped.
“Just leaving!” Y/N added quickly.
They scrambled out of the pool, grabbing their clothes and running down a hallway towards the elevators. Once they were safely inside one, they looked at each other and started laughing.
“I thought you said it was open all night!” Spencer exclaimed between breaths.
“I may have told a fib to get you to come swimming with me,” Y/N admitted, giving her best puppy dog eyes. “Are you mad at me, Spence?”
Spencer could see her hard nipples poking through the soaking wet, thin material of her bra and couldn’t find himself to be anything but aroused. “Uh, no, no. Not mad, that was fun.”
Y/N caught him looking but didn’t say anything. What man wouldn’t look at wet breasts right in his face?
“Yeah, it was,” she agreed, smiling. “Thanks for going with me.”
As Spencer looked up at the ceiling to avoid staring at Y/N’s half-naked body, she took her opportunity to glance down at his scantily concealed half hard bulge. She could see the entire outline through his wet, hot pink briefs.
“Never took you as a pink guy, doctor,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Spencer blushed fiercely, trying to cover himself with his clothes. “They were a gift,” he mumbled, embarrassed but unable to keep from smiling.
“Well, I think they suit you,” she said with a wink.
The elevator dinged, and they stepped out, making their way back to their room, still dripping wet and grinning from ear to ear. Once inside, they both burst out laughing again, the adrenaline from their escapade still coursing through them.
“Here,” Y/N said, grabbing a couple of towels from the bathroom and tossing one to Spencer. “Dry off before you catch a cold.”
“Thanks,” he replied, wrapping the towel around himself. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
“Me neither,” she admitted, toweling off her hair. “But it was worth it.”
Spencer nodded, his heart still racing. “Yeah, it was.”
They both stood there for a moment, wrapped in towels and basking in the afterglow of their impromptu adventure. The tension between them was palpable, but so was the camaraderie and affection.
“Well,” Y/N said finally, breaking the silence. “I guess we should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Spencer agreed reluctantly, not wanting the evening to end. “Uh, do you want to shower first?”
“Thanks, Spencer,” Y/N nodded her head and grabbed her things.
The next 10 minutes were the hardest, literally, of Spencer's entire life. Knowing Y/N was naked and wet on the other side of the door was pure torture. He could hear the water running, imagine the steam filling the room, and envision her silhouette behind the shower curtain. When Y/N cracked open the bathroom door and peeked her head out, Spencer sat up faster than ever before, super not obvious at all.
“Sorry… I kind of forgot to bring any clothes in, so I need to come out in my towel. Is that okay?” she asked, her cheeks slightly flushed.
“Ye–yeah. Mhm,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s totally fine, no big deal. Why would I care?”
“Okay, weirdo,” Y/N looked at him skeptically, a playful glint in her eye. “Bathroom’s all yours.”
Spencer nodded and waited until Y/N was facing her suitcase to make a break for it, sprinting to the bathroom so she didn't see his very prominent boner tenting his pants. Y/N turned around quickly at the sound of the bathroom door slamming, finding his behavior odd.
In the shower, Spencer turned the water to cold and willed his erection away. The icy water was a shock to his system, but he needed it to calm down. He had not indulged much in self-pleasure and had certainly never seen as much of a woman as he saw today, let alone been touched by one. Eventually, it did go down, and he got out, only to realize he hadn't brought a towel. Of fucking course.
Spencer was now the one sticking his head out of the crack he made in the doorway, “Y/N…?”
“Yeah, Spencer, what’s up?” she called back, now sitting in the bed.
“I, um, forgot a towel,” he admitted, feeling his face heat up again.
“Oh shit, let me grab yours,” Y/N replied, getting up and walking over to his bag to retrieve the towel.
“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to make himself as small as possible behind the door.
When Y/N walked over to hand the towel to Spencer, she couldn’t help but immediately break into giggles.
“Oh, that’s what every guy wants to hear. What is it?” Spencer asked, mortified, his head barely poking out from behind the door.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped between laughs, “it’s just that I can see your butt in the mirror.”
Completely horrified, Spencer slammed the door shut and banged his head on it. “Can we please forget about this?” he groaned, his face burning with embarrassment.
“Absolutely not! You have the cutest ass I’ve ever seen!” Y/N called out, her laughter echoing through the room.
Spencer felt his face burn even more as he dried off and quickly dressed. When he emerged from the bathroom, he avoided eye contact with Y/N, who was still chuckling softly, a wide grin on her face.
“Ready for bed?” she asked, a playful glint in her eye, clearly still amused by the situation.
“Yeah,” Spencer mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment as he climbed into his side of the bed.
They settled into their respective sides, the awkwardness from the bathroom incident lingering but slowly giving way to a more comfortable silence.
“Goodnight, Spencer,” Y/N said softly, turning off the bedside lamp and snuggling under the covers.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, settling into his pillow and trying to calm his racing thoughts.
As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, Spencer couldn’t help but smile. Despite the awkward moments and his own nervousness, he felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt since that last summer. This weekend, for all its surprises, was turning out to be something special. And as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
— 
When the room’s phone began ringing with a wake-up call in the morning, both Y/N and Spencer groaned at being woken up. Y/N stuck her arm out, grabbed the phone, and hung it up to stop the sound rattling in her head. Much to her surprise and gratitude, she was not hungover, just very tired. She went to roll over to go back to sleep when she noticed her body was being restricted by multiple different body parts, none of which belonged to her.
Spencer had one arm around her waist, his other beneath his head, one leg on her hip, and the other between both of her legs. The man had wrapped himself around her like a human octopus. He was also awake, not having slept through the wake-up call, but was paralyzed out of fear or embarrassment, maybe both.
Y/N felt him tense up and his breathing grow rapid, signaling that he was awake. “Well, good morning to you too, Dr. Reid. Or is it Doc Ock?” she teased, her voice still heavy with sleep.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Spencer mumbled, his face burning with embarrassment.
“I know I am, thank you,” Y/N said, a smirk playing on her lips.
They lay in silence for a few more moments, both of them thoroughly enjoying the feeling of the other's body pressed against their own.
“So, not that I'm complaining, but were you planning on letting me go anytime soon?” Y/N asked, amusement evident in her tone.
“Oh god, yes. I'm so sorry,” Spencer said, hurriedly trying to disentangle himself. In his haste, he managed to rub his morning wood against Y/N’s ass.
“Jesus, Reid! Any of your other body parts you want to touch me with?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“No, nope. Actually, I think I'm just going to open the window and jump out. I think the 15 floors will kill me,” he said, his voice muffled from behind his hands that were hiding his extremely red face.
Y/N laughed softly, reaching out to gently pull his hands away from his face. “Hey, it’s okay. It happens,” she said, her tone reassuring. “No need to jump out the window.”
Spencer looked at her, still blushing but grateful for her understanding. “Thanks, Y/N. I’m really sorry about that.”
She shrugged, giving him a playful smile. “It’s all part of the fun, right? Besides, I’d miss having you around.”
Spencer managed a small smile, feeling a bit better. “I’d miss you too.”
They lay there for a moment longer, the initial awkwardness giving way to a comfortable silence. Until Y/N, unable to resist tormenting Spencer, said, “Did you want a hand with that?”
“What??” he half-squeaked, half-screamed.
Y/N threw her head back, laughing hard in the early morning light shining in.
“You’re so mean,” Spencer muttered, his face a deep shade of red.
“Aww, did you really want me to?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I’m not answering that,” he replied, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.
“All in good time, young grasshopper,” Y/N said, patting his arm playfully.
Spencer, rolling his eyes and unable to stand Y/N’s antics any longer, got out of bed to get ready for the day. He needed coffee, and maybe 50,000 shots of alcohol. What he failed to consider was that he was still hard, in loose gray sweats, and that he was sharing a room with Y/N, the worst person, ever.
“Whoa baby! I didn’t realize you were holding out on me! Get back here!” Y/N called out, patting the bed and laughing even harder.
Spencer, mortified, ran to the bathroom, his face burning with embarrassment. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, trying to calm his racing heart. The cold shower earlier had been nothing compared to the icy plunge he felt now, thanks to Y/N’s relentless teasing.
Inside the bathroom, he took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. He couldn’t deny that a part of him enjoyed the playful banter, but another part of him was utterly overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings. He needed to collect himself and face the day, starting with a much-needed cup of coffee.
Back in the room, Y/N was still chuckling to herself, thoroughly amused by Spencer's reactions. She began getting ready, her thoughts drifting to the upcoming events of the day and the unexpected pleasure of Spencer’s company. Despite her teasing, she was genuinely glad he was there.
As Spencer emerged from the bathroom, now somewhat composed, he glanced at Y/N, who was busy with her morning routine. “Truce?” he offered, a tentative smile on his lips.
“Truce,” Y/N agreed, smiling back at him. “For now.”
They both laughed, the tension easing as they continued preparing for the day ahead. The morning light filled the room, promising a day full of possibilities and perhaps, a few more moments of unexpected connection.
The morning sun cast a warm glow over the vineyard as Y/N and Spencer wandered through the charming village, the scent of grapes and fresh earth filling the air. They didn’t have much to do in preparation for the wedding, so they decided to venture out in search of coffee. The village was picturesque, with cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and inviting cafés.
As they strolled, chatting about old memories and catching up, they suddenly found themselves face-to-face with a woman Y/N recognized all too well. Christa, one of the girls who used to bully Spencer in high school, stood before them. Adam had warned Y/N about all the mean girls and boys, just in case they had any younger siblings at the school.
“Oh my god! No way! It’s the baby freak and boarding school!” Christa exclaimed, her voice dripping with mock surprise and disdain.
Spencer immediately tensed, the old nickname hitting him like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t been called that in years. Y/N, feeling a surge of protectiveness, stepped forward.
“Christa!” Y/N exclaimed with a bright, exaggerated smile, moving in for an overly enthusiastic hug that left Christa visibly uncomfortable. Christa awkwardly patted Y/N’s back, clearly thrown off by the unexpected embrace.
“Uh, hi,” Christa muttered, her confidence wavering.
“How are you? What has it been, 15 years? You don’t look a day over 40,” Y/N said cheerfully.
“I’m 30,” Christa replied, her tone icy.
“Oh… well, sunscreen is your best friend!” Y/N said, her voice dripping with false innocence.
Christa’s face twisted in offense, while Spencer struggled to hide his laughter behind a cough.
“Baby freak… you look exactly the same. Still scaring everyone away with your freaky genius powers?” Christa sneered, her eyes narrowing at Spencer.
“I–uh, no, I–” Spencer stammered, the old insecurities rushing back.
“Spencer, here,” Y/N said, emphasizing his name, “is not a baby, maybe compared to the looks of you. And he is not a freak, unless you want to talk about more private matters, but judging by the turn of your nose and the stick up your ass, I’m going to go ahead and assume you have no idea what I’m talking about. How long has it been since a real human touched you?”
Christa was speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to come up with a retort. Finally, she sneered, “I bet Spencer’s never been touched by a human ever.”
Spencer looked down, his face turning red with embarrassment, feeling like the insecure 12-year-old all over again.
“Really? Like this?” Y/N said, pulling Spencer down into a kiss before Christa could say another word.
The kiss was brief but intense, and when Y/N pulled back, Spencer’s eyes were wide with surprise, his cheeks flushed. Christa stood there, stunned and utterly speechless, unable to come up with a reply.
Y/N turned back to Christa with a triumphant smile. “Awe, Christa, you look like a fish. Never speak to me or my boyfriend ever again, okay? Okay, sweetie. So good to see you!”
With that, Y/N took Spencer’s arm and led him away, leaving Christa standing in the middle of the street, fuming and defeated.
As they walked away, Spencer glanced over at Y/N, his heart still racing from the unexpected kiss. “Thank you,” he said softly.
Y/N squeezed his arm gently, a warm smile on her face. “Anytime, Spencer. You deserve better than people like her.”
They continued their walk, the tension from the encounter melting away as they enjoyed each other’s company, feeling closer than ever before. The weekend had taken another unexpected turn, but this time, it was for the better.
After grabbing their coffee, Spencer and Y/N realized they still had plenty of time before they had to start getting ready for the wedding. The charm of Napa Valley beckoned, and they decided to indulge in one of the region’s finest offerings: wine tasting. The idea seemed perfect, a way to enjoy the beautiful vineyard and create some new memories.
They made their way back to the vineyard and signed up for a tour. As they strolled through the rows of grapevines, Y/N kept her hand looped around Spencer's arm. It felt natural, a comforting closeness that neither of them felt the need to mention. The guide led them through the process of winemaking, from grape to glass, sharing interesting tidbits and answering questions.
Once the tour concluded, they were led to a private table on one of the many balconies the vineyard’s main building had to offer. The view was breathtaking, with rolling hills and endless rows of vines stretching out under the clear blue sky. A tasting flight of wine was set before them, each glass glistening with rich, inviting hues.
Y/N took a sip from the first glass, savoring the flavor before turning to Spencer. “So… about earlier,” she began, her voice soft.
Spencer nodded, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Yeah. That was… unexpected.”
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Y/N said, looking at him earnestly. “I just couldn’t stand her talking to you like that.”
Spencer shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t overstep. It was… nice. Surprising, but nice. No one’s ever stood up for me like that before.”
Y/N blushed slightly, taking another sip of her wine. “Well, you deserved it. She was horrible.”
Spencer glanced at her, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything. It’s been a long time since I felt… protected.”
Y/N smiled, her eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome. And for what it’s worth, you could have handled it really well all on your own. I just… wanted to make sure she knew she couldn’t mess with you.”
Spencer chuckled, relaxing more as he took a sip from his glass. “You definitely made that clear.”
They continued their tasting, discussing the nuances of each wine, but the earlier conversation had brought them even closer. The view, the wine, and the company made for a perfect moment, one that felt both nostalgic and new.
As they moved through the tasting flight, they found themselves laughing and reminiscing about old times, the tension from the earlier encounter long forgotten. The vineyard, with its serene beauty, provided the perfect backdrop for reconnecting, and they both felt a sense of peace and happiness that had been missing for too long.
Y/N looked out over the balcony, her hand still resting lightly on Spencer's arm. “I’m glad we’re here,” she said softly. “I’ve missed this.”
“Me too,” Spencer replied, his voice equally soft. “It’s like coming home.”
They clinked their glasses together, a silent toast to new beginnings and cherished memories. The weekend held more surprises, but for now, they were content to simply enjoy each other’s company, letting the wine and the moment carry them away.
“Speaking of home… do you think you’d ever come back?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
“To Las Vegas?” Spencer replied, looking at her curiously.
“Yeah,” Y/N said, feeling somewhat hopeful.
Spencer took a moment, thinking it over. “I’ve never thought about it, really.”
“Oh, I guess if I left, I wouldn’t want to come back either,” Y/N said, a hint of sadness creeping into her tone.
“Y/N… it’s not that. There’s just nothing there for me anymore.”
“Yeah, nothing,” she said bitterly, sipping her wine.
“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant,” Spencer said quickly, his eyes wide with concern.
“It’s okay, Spencer. You don’t have to pretend. We haven’t talked in over a decade. I can’t blame you,” Y/N said, looking down at her glass.
“Y/N–” Spencer began, but she cut him off.
“I’m going to head back and get ready. Can you give me an hour alone, please?” she asked, her voice strained.
“Yeah, of course,” Spencer said softly, his heart sinking.
Y/N stood up, giving him a small, tight smile before walking away. Spencer watched her go, feeling a pang of regret. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and now he felt the weight of their years apart more heavily than ever. He sat there for a moment longer, staring out at the vineyard, before deciding to take a walk to clear his mind.
The serene beauty of the vineyard provided some solace, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. He realized how much he had missed her, how much he had missed having someone who understood him. The years had created a distance between them, but he hoped that this weekend could be a step towards bridging that gap.
As he wandered back to the room an hour later, he knocked softly on the door, giving Y/N the space she had asked for. He hoped they could find a way to reconnect, to rebuild the bond they once had. The weekend was far from over, and he was determined to make things right.
— 
By the time the ceremony rolled around, Y/N and Spencer hadn't talked yet but took their seats next to each other. Spencer tried to apologize again, but Y/N brushed him off, telling him it was okay. The ceremony was beautiful and didn't drag on too long. Y/N cried, and Spencer put his arm around her shoulders, letting her cry on him.
They took their seats for dinner after, being seated again with her parents and close family. Though her parents weren't there for the rehearsal dinner, they were now. Spencer was extremely nervous, having never gotten a good read on Y/N and Adam's parents before. All he knew was that they shipped their young children off to boarding school and then left them home with hired staff more often than not.
As the first course was being served, Y/N's mother eyed Spencer with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. “Y/N, who is this man you brought?” she asked, her tone sharp.
Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Mother, this is Spencer Reid. He grew up with us, don’t you remember?”
Her mother pursed her lips, shaking her head. “No.”
“I’m not surprised,” Y/N muttered under her breath.
Her father, catching the exchange, leaned in. “Watch your tone, that’s your mother.”
“I’m 24,” Y/N said, her voice steady but strained.
“And you’re still our child,” her father retorted.
“I’ve been financially independent since I was 18. What are you going to do? Take my salad fork?” Y/N shot back, her frustration evident.
Her parents rolled their eyes in unison. “No wonder it’s your brother getting married and not you,” her mother sneered. “You were always so bitter. Determined to hold grudges.”
Y/N’s mouth dropped open, ready to fire back, but Spencer quickly intervened. “Actually, Y/N and I have been together for what, 2 years, darling?” he said, his voice smooth and confident.
Y/N was momentarily stunned, but then a wicked smile crept across her face. “Yes, baby. And that present you gave me for our anniversary was so… sensual. I can still feel it,” she said, biting her lip for effect.
Spencer tried to contain his laughter, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looked at Y/N. 
Her mother’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Y/N L/N! You are incorrigible.”
Y/N shrugged, unfazed. “I don’t care,” she said, a defiant glint in her eye.
The table fell into an awkward silence, but Spencer felt a sense of triumph. He had managed to diffuse the situation and even brought a smile to Y/N’s face. As the dinner progressed, they exchanged knowing glances, each feeling a little more at ease despite the tension surrounding them.
As soon as people were encouraged to get up from their tables, Y/N and Spencer shot up. Their first stop was the open bar, both needing a drink after enduring a whole dinner with her parents.
“Can we get an appletini and a sex on the beach?” Spencer ordered, his voice only shaking slightly.
“Spence!” Y/N yelled, hitting his arm playfully. “I’m so proud of you!”
He smiled to himself, feeling a sense of accomplishment. They stood at the bar, sipping their drinks as they observed the crowd. The lively atmosphere was a welcome contrast to the tension they had just experienced. Y/N’s eyes were on the couples dancing, and Spencer remembered what she had said earlier about wanting someone to swing her around the dance floor.
“Do you want to dance?” Spencer asked, turning to her.
“Oh no, it’s okay. I know you don’t like to dance,” Y/N replied, her gaze lingering on the dance floor.
“Y/N… I want to dance with you. Do you want to dance with me?” Spencer asked, his eyes earnest.
“Yes, very much,” Y/N said, her face lighting up with a smile.
Spencer set his drink down and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. The music was a soft, romantic melody, perfect for a slow dance. As they found a spot, Spencer placed his hands gently on her waist, and Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed to the music, the world around them fading as they focused on each other.
“I can’t believe I’m finally doing this,” Y/N said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Me neither,” Spencer replied, his voice equally soft. “I’m glad it’s with you.”
Y/N’s eyes were shining. “You’ve always been special to me, Spencer.”
He smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You too, Y/N.”
Her heart raced at his bold gesture, not expecting such a move from Spencer. They stayed on the dance floor for a few more songs, enjoying the moment and the connection that had been rekindled. Eventually, Spencer took Y/N's hand and led her away from the floor.
“Spence… you’re holding my hand,” Y/N said, glancing down at their intertwined fingers.
“I am,” Spencer replied, his voice steady.
“You don’t do that,” she pointed out, her heart still fluttering.
“I don’t,” he agreed, looking at her with a small smile.
“But you are,” she continued, her eyes searching his.
“Right again,” Spencer said, his smile widening.
“Why?” Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Because I like you,” Spencer admitted, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she hadn’t seen before.
Y/N felt her breath catch, her heart pounding in her chest. “You… you like me?”
Spencer nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “Yes, Y/N. I like you. I guess I was just too afraid to admit it before.”
A smile slowly spread across Y/N's face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I like you too, Spencer. I always have, since we were kids.”
Spencer's face lit up with relief and happiness. “Really?”
“Really,” Y/N confirmed, squeezing his hand.
They stood there for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background as they gazed at each other. The years of separation and unspoken feelings seemed to melt away, leaving only the warmth of their rekindled connection.
“Do you want to get some fresh air?” Spencer asked, his voice soft.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Y/N replied, her smile never wavering.
They walked hand in hand out to the vineyard’s garden, the night air cool and refreshing. The walk through the garden was very much reminiscent of the last time they saw each other. The path was lined with twinkling lights, casting a soft glow over the grapevines and flowers.
“Did you really not know I liked you all those years ago? I was so obvious. I did everything to get your attention,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence.
“No, I really didn’t know. I just thought you were really nice!” Spencer replied, his brow furrowing in surprise.
“And you liked Adam,” Y/N stated, a hint of a teasing smile on her lips.
“I–I, what??” Spencer stammered, caught off guard.
“It’s okay, Spence, he doesn’t know,” Y/N said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
Spencer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You knew?”
“Of course I knew. I could see it in the way you looked at him. It’s fine, really,” Y/N said, her voice gentle.
Spencer looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and relief. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward back then.”
Y/N shook her head, her smile softening. “You didn’t. I just wish I had known how to tell you how I felt. I was always so nervous around you.”
Spencer smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him. “I was nervous around you too. I didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I guess we were both a bit clueless.”
They laughed together, the sound carrying through the quiet night. As they continued their walk, the memories of the past seemed to blend with the present, creating a sense of closure and a new beginning.
“Do you think things would have been different if we had talked about it back then?” Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Maybe,” Y/N said thoughtfully. “But we were just kids, and you had so much ahead of you.”
Spencer nodded, feeling content with her answer. They reached a bench under a large oak tree and sat down, the stars twinkling above them. Y/N leaned her head on Spencer’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close.
“I would move back home,” Spencer said softly.
“What?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with warmth and curiosity.
“I would move back home,” Spencer repeated, his voice steady. “If it meant being with you eventually. I’d come back to Las Vegas.”
Y/N lifted her head to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise and emotion. “Spencer, you don’t have to do that for me. We aren’t even dating.”
“I know,” he said, gently cupping her cheek with his hand. “But I want to. You were always like home to me, Y/N. Being with you feels right.”
“I would never ask you to give up your job; you worked so hard to get there,” Y/N shook her head.
“But I—”
“Stop,” Y/N interrupted, pulling away from his touch. Her heart raced, and she felt a wave of panic wash over her. “This is too much, Spencer. We’ve just reconnected, and now you’re talking about uprooting your entire life for me. It’s overwhelming.”
Spencer’s face fell, his hand dropping to his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just wanted you to know how important you are to me.”
Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “I appreciate that, really. But we need to take things slow. I need time to process all of this.”
Spencer nodded, though the disappointment was clear in his eyes. “Of course. I understand. We’ll take it slow.”
There was an awkward silence between them, the weight of their conversation hanging heavily in the air. Y/N felt a mix of guilt and relief, unsure of how to navigate the intense emotions swirling inside her.
After a few moments, Spencer spoke again, his voice soft. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you. I just care about you a lot.”
Y/N managed a small smile, her heart aching. “I care about you too, Spencer. But let’s just see where things go, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, though the tension between them remained palpable.
They spent the rest of the evening in a subdued silence, both lost in their thoughts. Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of unease, and she wondered if she had made a mistake. But she also knew she needed to follow her instincts and not rush into anything that didn’t feel right.
That night, the walk back to their room was a silent torture. Each step felt heavier than the last, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Spencer desperately wanted to fix things, but he didn’t know how.
When they finally reached their room, Y/N wordlessly grabbed a pillow and placed it between their bodies on the bed, creating a physical barrier that mirrored the emotional distance between them. The gesture was small, but it felt like a chasm had opened up.
Spencer lay on his side, staring at the wall, his heart aching. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to reassure her, but he couldn’t bring himself to cross that line. The fear of pushing her further away was paralyzing.
What was far worse, was when Spencer woke up to an empty bed and an empty hotel room. Panic set in as he called out her name, hoping she was just in the bathroom or getting breakfast. But there was no response.
The reality of the situation hit him hard. Once again, he had managed to lose one of the only people who ever felt like home. The weight of that loss settled in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong.
The silence of the room was deafening, and the loneliness was overwhelming. Spencer knew he had to find a way to make things right, but at that moment, he felt utterly lost and alone.
Downstairs, Spencer was checking out when he heard a familiar voice call his name. He turned around to see Adam bounding towards him.
“Hey buddy!” Adam, as broad as ever, swept him into a hug, picking him up in his excitement.
“Whoa! Hi!” Spencer laughed, caught off guard by the enthusiastic greeting.
“How are you? Thank you so much for coming. I’m sorry it’s been so crazy, I can’t believe I almost missed you!”
“Yeah, hah. Glad I ran into you,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his composure despite the turmoil inside.
Adam, unaware of Spencer's inner turmoil, continued with a big grin, “So, I heard you had to bunk with old Petit Chou.”
“Y/N? Yeah, I did,” Spencer replied, the nickname bringing back a wave of memories.
“How was it? Was it like old times?” Adam asked, his tone cheerful and curious.
“Um, no, not really. We got along a lot better,” Spencer admitted, a small, sad smile forming on his lips.
“Oh, you dog! Did you sleep with my sister?” Adam's tone was teasing, but he looked extremely pleased.
Spencer's eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. We just... caught up.”
Adam laughed, clapping Spencer on the back. “Well, I’m glad you two reconnected. She always had a soft spot for you, you know.”
Spencer forced a smile, trying to push away the sadness. “Yeah, me too. She’s... she’s great.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Adam teased in a big brotherly fashion.
“So, I thought you’d be gone by now on your honeymoon?” Spencer asked.
“Oh no, Lizzie wanted to have some time as newlyweds in our house first. You know, get settled in, put all the presents away and such before we leave. She really thinks everything through,” Adam explained, love evident in the way he talked about Elizabeth.
“She sounds wonderful. I’m so happy for you, man,” Spencer said sincerely.
“Thank you, little dude. Are there any lucky ladies in your life? Lucky lads?” Adam asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
“Huh, no,” Spencer replied, shaking his head.
“Dude, you should have totally made a move on Y/N! She yapped about you for years after you left. When I told her you were gonna be here, she practically threw away her suitcase and bought all new clothes, wanting to make a good impression or something,” Adam said with a grin.
“What?” Spencer choked, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Yeah, man, she had it baddd. It was kind of cute,” Adam chuckled.
“Oh, I had no idea,” Spencer said, feeling a little bit of shock and regret.
“Well, if you’re ever in Vegas, you know who to call,” Adam said, clapping Spencer on the back.
“Yeah... where are you living nowadays?” Spencer asked, trying to shift the conversation.
“Georgia! Met sweet little Lizzie at Florida State and followed her home after graduation. Never left,” Adam replied, his eyes shining with happiness.
“That’s great, Adam. I’m really happy for you,” Spencer said, genuinely pleased for his friend.
“Thanks, man. And seriously, don’t be a stranger. If you’re ever in the area, you’ve got a place to stay,” Adam said, giving Spencer another friendly hug.
As they finished checking out, Spencer’s mind raced with thoughts of Y/N. He needed to talk to her, to clear the air and understand what had gone wrong. But for now, he was grateful for the brief distraction that Adam had provided. It gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to make things right.
Y/N went back home, feeling the weight of the weekend pressing heavily on her. She barely had time to sit down and process everything when her best friend and roommate, Billie, showed up at her bedroom door, armed with snacks and drinks.
“Hey, thought you could use some company,” Billie said, giving Y/N a warm hug as they entered.
“Thanks, Billie,” Y/N replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
They settled on the couch, surrounded by an array of comfort food and drinks. Billie opened a bag of chips and handed it to Y/N. “So, tell me everything.”
Y/N sighed, taking a deep breath before recounting the events of the weekend. She told Billie about reconnecting with Spencer, the intense emotions, and the difficult conversation that left her feeling lost and confused.
“I feel so silly,” Y/N said, heaving a big sigh. “Mourning something I can’t have. We live on opposite sides of the country. How would it ever work?”
Billie reached over, giving Y/N’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not silly at all. Feelings don’t follow logic. You’re allowed to feel sad, even if it seems impractical.”
“I just... I really thought maybe we could make it work,” Y/N said, her voice breaking.
“Hey, you never know what the future holds. Maybe things will change, or maybe you’ll find a way to be together despite the distance,” Billie said, their tone comforting.
“But what if we don’t? What if it’s just not meant to be?” Y/N asked, her eyes searching Billie’s for answers.
“Then it's not, you can't control what's out of your hands,” Billie said, offering a comforting smile.
Y/N nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. They spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. While the ache in Y/N’s heart didn’t completely disappear, she felt a sense of peace over the situation.
— 
Spencer wanted to reach out to Y/N, knowing he couldn't even use the excuse of not having her phone number—one of his best friends could hack the Pentagon for fun if she wanted. But he didn’t want to face the rejection he had a feeling would be coming his way. He knew it was impractical: his job was demanding, they lived nowhere near each other, and on top of that, they didn’t even know if they would work. Maybe the magic between them only existed in the air of the wedding.
They went weeks in radio silence, both resigning to move on. They had gone 12 years without each other; they could handle some more. That is until Spencer found something in one of his luggage pockets. He was repacking his go-bag after returning from a case when he opened a pocket that he did not often use, planning to put a fresh pack of gum in there.
He quickly took the note out and opened it, seeing it was in handwriting that he didn’t recognize. His heart skipped a beat as he began to read:
Spencer,
I’m sorry for leaving unannounced. I truly loved seeing you this weekend. It was wonderful to catch up after so long apart and to see that you are still the same sweet, loving guy. I hope you never change.
I left without saying goodbye because of my own issues, not because of anything you said or did. Please understand that. You mean so much to me, and I would hate to jeopardize our friendship over something silly like this.
If you’re ever in Vegas, you always have a place to stay.
Y/N
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its-avalon-08 · 3 months
Note
I need some angst and hurt comfort right now. I was wondering if you could write something with Lando and his long term girlfriend and she’s pregnant and Lando has been very busy with racing and stuff that one day when she says she’s going to an appointment to get a scan for the baby Lando resizes that he hasn’t been to a scan ever. Only like to the first two. And he’s like guilty and stuff and more guilty when he relies that his girlfriend is use to it. Happy ending please.
I hope that makes sense. I just thought you would be good to write it as I love all your work. 💕
every scan, every kick (ln4)
✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader
✦ genre - angst, absent lando, tears, fluff
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First Trimester
Y/N sat in the waiting room of the clinic, anxiously tapping her foot. She kept glancing at her phone, hoping for a text or call from Lando. It was their second scan, and she was excited to share this moment with him. She finally saw a text pop up.
Sorry, babe. The meeting ran over. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Love you.
Her heart sank, but she forced a smile. She knew he was busy, but it still hurt. She went in alone, the excitement dulled without him by her side.
Second Trimester
Y/N stood in the kitchen, trying to reach a jar on the top shelf. She had texted Lando earlier to help her when he got home. Hours passed, and she finally managed to get the jar down herself.
She heard the front door open and Lando's voice calling out, "Y/N, I'm home!"
She turned to see him, his face tired but smiling. "Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. The meeting with the sponsors ran longer than expected."
"It’s okay," she said softly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
Another Missed Scan
Y/N sat on the exam table, her hand resting on her belly. The technician smiled at her kindly. "Is your partner joining us today?"
"He’s… he’s running late," Y/N said, her voice wavering slightly. "We can start."
The scan showed the baby moving, but Y/N’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. She took a picture home for Lando, but it wasn’t the same.
Nursery Preparations
Y/N was painting the nursery, struggling to reach the higher spots. She had hoped Lando would be there to help, but he was away at a race. Her phone buzzed with a text.
Won the race! Wish you were here. Love you.
She smiled, genuinely happy for him, but the loneliness crept in. She continued painting, the room coming together, but the joy was tinged with sadness.
Doctor’s Appointment
Y/N sat in the waiting room, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. She was here for a routine check-up. The receptionist called her name, and she went in alone, the familiar ache of Lando’s absence gnawing at her.
The Breakdown
Y/N sat at the kitchen table, her eyes red from crying. She had tried to hold it together, but the loneliness and the weight of going through her pregnancy mostly alone had finally broken her. Kelly, P and Max had come over for a visit, sensing she needed company.
Kelly sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly. “Y/N, talk to us. What’s going on?”
Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “It’s just… Lando. He’s always so busy with racing and everything. I understand his career is important, but… I feel so alone.”
Max leaned against the counter, his face filled with concern. “He’s missing a lot, isn’t he?”
Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face. “He missed the last scan. And the baby’s first kick. I texted him, but he’s always so caught up in meetings or races. I try to be supportive, but… it’s so hard.”
Kelly pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay to feel this way, Y/N. You’re doing this alone, and it’s not fair. You deserve to have him by your side.”
Y/N sobbed into Kelly’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be a burden. I know how important his career is.”
Max stepped closer, his voice gentle. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re his partner and the mother of his child. He should be there for you.”
Kelly continued to comfort her. “You need to talk to him, Y/N. He needs to understand how much this is affecting you.”
Y/N pulled back, wiping her tears. “I’ve tried, but he’s always so busy. I feel like I’m losing him.”
Max crouched down beside her, taking her hand. “Lando loves you, Y/N. He just needs a wake-up call. He needs to realize what he’s missing before it’s too late.”
Kelly nodded. “You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N. But you shouldn’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, and we’ll help you talk to Lando.”
Y/N took a deep breath, feeling slightly better with their support. “Thank you. I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”
Kelly smiled softly. “We’re family, Y/N. We’ll always be here for you.”
Max squeezed her hand reassuringly. “And we’ll make sure Lando understands what’s at stake. You deserve to be happy and supported.”
Y/N nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. With friends like Kelly and Max, she knew she had the strength to face the challenges ahead. They stayed with her, offering comfort and support, as she prepared herself to have the difficult conversation with Lando.
Y/N and Daniel Ricciardo sat at the dining table, laughing and chatting over a cup of tea. Daniel had stopped by to catch up, and the conversation had naturally drifted to the baby. Lando had just gotten home from a long day at the track, and he walked into the lively discussion. "Hey, guys," Lando said, dropping his bag by the door and joining them at the table.
"Hey, mate," Daniel greeted, smiling warmly. "We were just talking about the little one. How's the baby cooking, Y/N?"
Y/N smiled, her hand resting on her belly. "Pretty good. The baby’s been very active lately."
"Yeah, you mentioned that at the last scan," Daniel said. "Didn't you say the baby kicked like a future football star? And the doctor said everything is progressing perfectly, right?"
Lando’s smile faltered. "You went to the last scan?" he asked Daniel, trying to keep his tone casual. "No, I didn’t," Daniel replied, a bit puzzled. "Y/N was just telling me about it. I just thought you had been there. We just chat pretty often, you know?"
"Oh, right," Lando said, his voice tight. "Y/N told you."
Daniel, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, mate. She even showed me the picture from the last scan. Your kid's got a strong heartbeat. Future racer, right?"
Lando forced a chuckle, but the guilt was bubbling inside him. "Yeah, definitely."
Y/N looked at Lando, noticing the strain in his expression. "Lando, it’s okay. I know you’ve been busy."
"No, it’s not okay," Lando said, his voice cracking. "Daniel knows more about our baby than I do. I haven’t been there, Y/N. I’ve missed so much."
Daniel sensed the need for privacy and stood up. “I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll see you both later.” He gave Lando a reassuring pat on the back before leaving.
As the door closed, Lando sank into the couch, his head in his hands. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’ve missed so much.”
She sat beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lando, I know your career is demanding. I understand.”
“But it’s not enough,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve missed scans, kicks... moments I can’t get back. And it took Daniel fucking knowing more about our baby than I do to make me realize how absent I’ve been.”
Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes. “Lando, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”
“No, Y/N, it’s not enough. I’ve been so focused on racing that I forgot what’s truly important. You and our baby are my priority. I’ve been selfish, and I’m so, so sorry.”
She hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face. “We love you, Lando. We just need you here with us.”
He held her close, his own tears falling freely. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll be here. I’ll make it right. I love you both more than anything.”
They sat there, holding each other, the weight of their emotions filling the room. Lando knew he had a long way to go, but he was determined to make up for the lost time. For Y/N and their baby, he would be present, supportive, and the partner they deserved.
Lando and Y/N sat on the couch, the glow of the TV casting a soft light in the room. They had just finished dinner, and the weight of the day’s emotional conversations hung in the air. Lando had apologized, and Y/N had accepted, but the raw emotions still lingered.
They were watching a movie, but neither of them was really paying attention. Lando held Y/N close, her head resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, his heart heavy with guilt and love.
“Y/N,” Lando whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you. I missed so much, and I hate myself for it.”
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with understanding. “Lando, you’re here now. That’s what matters. We can’t change the past, but we can make sure you’re here for the future.”
Lando’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you so much, Y/N. More than anything. I don’t ever want you to feel alone again.”
She cupped his face, wiping away his tears with her thumb. “I know you do, Lando. And I love you too. We’ll get through this together.”
Lando’s tears began to flow more freely. “I just feel like I’ve let you down. You deserve so much better.”
Y/N shook her head, her own eyes welling up. “You’re an amazing partner, Lando. Yes, it’s been hard, but I believe in us. I believe in you.”
Lando pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. “I’m going to be there for every moment from now on. Every kick, every scan, every little thing. I promise.”
Y/N held him tightly, her heart aching with both sadness and love. “I know you will. We’ll make it work.”
They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the movie playing softly in the background. Lando’s tears eventually subsided, replaced by a deep sense of resolve. He kissed the top of Y/N’s head, his heart swelling with love and determination.
“Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you for coming back to us.”
Lando leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ll never leave you again.”
They continued to cuddle, the warmth of their love and commitment wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. As the night wore on, they talked about their dreams for the future, the plans for their baby, and how they would face everything together. Lando knew he had a lot to make up for, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready to take on anything.
As they drifted off to sleep, still entwined on the couch, Lando whispered one last promise. “I love you, Y/N. Always and forever.”
She smiled, her heart full. “I love you too, Lando. Always and forever.
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ellie with a mean gf!
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(prjoecting like a mf rn...)
a/n - i have been very unmotivated to write full-fleshed stuff so i'm deciding to write drabbles/headcannons for now. also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ATTENTION ON CH.1 OF GOOD LUCK, BABE! it makes my heart smile that you guys love it so much... also😭😭...: @sweetcici11 srry that i lied and said ur fic would be out a few nights ago. i'm really trying to finish it but i don't want to rush it and it be shitty. i really want it to be enjoyable and as good as it can be. but i PROMISE you it WILL be posted... sooner or later! i also have a few more drafts to finish too, so, i hope you guys like them when they come out!!!!!
content warnings - fluff, i'm a bitch and i want to feel loved and think that someone can put up with my cuntiness😝😝 , over-usage of commas probably, i think they're low-key kind of toxic?!?!?!?! , guys i promise i'm not this bad i've just been pretty insufferable these last few days and need an outlet 😭😭 .
i wrote way more than i thought i was going to...
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- you both hated each other at first. ...well actually, you hated her, and she was like, "😞😞" and then got used to it after a while and started being mean back 2 u!!
- dina introduced ellie to you when you both were hanging out with her. "you guys are going to love each other🥰!" ... you didn't 🤗 !
- ellie said hi to you and all you did was look her up and down, stare at her for a few seconds and then turn your head.
- everytime ellie would (attempt to) strike up a conversation you would give an overtly enthusiastic response or just stare at her like she had two heads or just blatantly ignore her. dina is over there like, '😟😟 . can we not have one good day...' when dina would leave for short periods of time and ellie was sure that you didn't like her, she would just talk about anything to get your blood boiling, our girl lllloooovvveessss to push buttons, we know this to be true.
- it got worse yet more tolerable after that. whenever she'd see you at gatherings or parties, you'd do your damnest to stay away from/avoid her. and she'd do her damnest to get you as upset with her as possible. it always ended with not-so-playful not-so-friendly banter!
- you were talking with jesse about something on the couch, and ellie came over and DELIBERATELY, DELIBERATELY... interrupted you 🤗 ! :
you shoot daggers at her face with your eyes, your jaw set hard and your eyes narrowed.
ellie tried to feign innocence, raising a brow at you after she looked over to see your facial expressions long after she felt them.. "what are you looking at me like that for🤨🤨?" , "i was fucking talking, you're being rude." , "if i have to get used to you being a bitch, you got to do the same." , you just huffed at her response and crossed your arms before walking off a few minutes after, realizing that the conversation you were having with jesse earlier was indeed over. ellie smirked to herself, victory was her's!
- she started calling you the nickname brat out of the blue... it blindsided tf out of you. here's the origin story!:
you look at ellie with a disgusted look on your face as she exhales smoke. her glazed over eyes meet yours before she offers the joint to you, out of genuine kindness. "want a hit?" she asked, forgetting how much of a bitch you were for, like, 0.2 seconds. you glare at her for a moment longer before plastering a sarcastic smile on your face, snatching the joint from her fingertips and dropping it onto the floor. you kept her eyes on yours as you stomped and smushed it into the ground.
now she remembered.
she stood up instantaneously, she was pissed. "what the fuck?!" she shouted, earning a few looks from some friends across the room. they strained their necks for a little bit before they saw you, it made sense now, and then turned back to the conversation.
you close your eyes for a slight second as a satisfied smile graced the corners of your lips. "you know i don't smoke, ellie." you responded with in a condescendingly sweet voice.
she didn't even argue with you. "you're such a fuckin' brat." she muttered under her breath before walking away. you had to try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your pussy. (🤗!)
- she didn't get to see how much effect that title had on you that night, but she noticed afterwards.
- one time you didn't say anything to ellie during a hangout, distracted by someone you disliked more than her. ellie kind of missed it☹️☹️ .
you were brought out of your thoughts when you felt her cold hand touch your shoulder. when you noticed it was her who was doing it, you pulled back with a furrow of her brows. ellie smiled. there she was.
"you haven't said one mean thing to me since i've gotten here. are you dying?"
you scoffed as you pointed in the direction your anger was radiating from. it was a girl ellie saw here and there in jackson, sometimes she was paired with her during patrols, she wasn't crazy about her but she paid no mind to her existence.
"what?- what does this have to do with me-"
"what it has to do with you, is that you should feel honored that i can tolerate you... can't fuckin' stand that bitch."
ellie scoffed before speaking up once more, "oh, c'mon you're being dramatic. don't be a brat."
your eyes went wide for a second and as you turned away, she could see the cheek that was facing her turn an embarrassing shade of red. she found your weakness.
- when you guys started dating, no one, and i mean NO ONE, believed it. (i don't feel like writing how u two got together maybe if y'all like this enough i'll make a full-fleshed oneshot abt it😭.)
- joel saw you guys together... like, not arguing, and HER head on YOUR shoulder... he thought he got laced with acid for a quick second there... jesse felt like he missed a couple chapters and felt very sad that he hadn't caught onto it quicker... and dina was so proud of herself, "told you, you guys would love each other 😁." she's so smug, I LOVE HER!
- she constantly has to reprimand you like you're a child when you guys are around someone you obviously don't like for whatever reason. once whoever left the room, ellie'll pinch your shoulder or your thigh, whatever skin is on display at the moment, not too hard, just to get you to wince a bit. you'll make a face at her afterwards. "ow, what the fuck was that for ellie?" , "we can talk shit when we get home, don't make a scene🙄." you stress her out sometimes...
- just bcs you guys are together DOES NOT mean your attitude has gone away.
whenever ellie and you have gotten in an argument, you're always being extra sarcastic and EXTRA BITCHY just to get on her nerves.
"baby, have you seen my gun?" she asks you, breaking the silence voluntarily as she's two minutes from being late to patrol.
you don't look up to her, you keep on looking at the pages of an old magazine. "idk ellie, did you check to see if it was shoved up your ass."
she just stands there for a second like this 🧍‍♀️ , before sighing and walking somewhere else to find it. "i'll fuckin' deal with you later." she mutters under her breath, obviously annoyed. you smirk to yourself as you flip another page.
- she does love, however, that you've gotten gentler with her since the relationship blossomed between you two. very few people (dina and ellie... sometimes jesse.) can get you to stop, and ellie is proud of herself that she could add beast-tamer to the top of her list of many skills and talents.
- sometimes she has to calm you down, sometimes all it takes is a stare in your direction. ... well, it's oftentimes a glare... you're your own woman/person and a relationship will not restrict you from showing off your talents!!!!!
- ellie has to constantly keep you from getting into arguments that could harm you physically. although your craft of bitchery is amazing, you can't fight to save your life.
she'll be pulling you back like an angry barking dog on a leash.
"i could've fucking took h-" , "you overestimate yourself a lot, baby."
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sunrisesfromthewest · 3 months
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First Encounter Part 2
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Thanks for all the love and support on part one here is part two enjoy Here's all the parts I have so far: 1 2 3 4 5 6
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Time passes by as everyone has focused their attention on, figuring out who is trying to tarnish Captain Conrads name. As you sit on the couch texting your sister, you hear someone call your name. Looking up you see Kelly doing a slight nod towards the kitchen, signaling that it’s time to have a little girl chat. 
Standing up you make your way to the kitchen, passing by Armando who looks up briefly but returns his gaze to the file he was looking through. As you enter you see Kelly standing near the sink with her arms crossed. Leaning against kitchen island you say “What’s up?" wondering why she wanted to talk. Watching her expression change from calm to concern made you sit up slightly. “Y/n,I’m so sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to shoot at you, with everything going on I just been on high alert." she says with genuine regret. 
" Girl, it's okay I should have knocked first but at least I had a quick reaction." giving her a slight smile. You see that it would take a little more to convince her that you were fine, but she nods her head. “Dorn been upset with me, since that happened," seeing her slightly hug herself. You make your way towards her bringing her into a hug, "I'm fine. I’m promise you. I’m okay,” you say reassuring her. 
 "I completely understand why you were ready to protect yourself, I would to if I had someone that’s dangerous and wanted in my home." Pulling away from her you say" And plus Dorn is only mad because he wouldn’t have gotten any more of my good cooking” you say hoping to change her mood. Pulling away from the embrace you see her wipe her eyes and laugh” Yeah, I would be pretty pissed to."  
Feeling her push at your shoulder lightly you look at her, raising your eyebrows. "Girl you not slick,” she says giving you a look. Walking towards the fridge to grab a water you say "I don’t know what you talking about." Already having an idea on what she might be hinting at. "I seen that little incident between you and Armando." Closing the fridge, you glance up at Kelly as you open the bottle and take a sip. 
Swallowing you shrug your shoulder acting nonchalant, "I have no clue what you're talking about but whatever your thinking is wrong." As you take another sip of water you hear Kelly say in a dramatic deep mocking voice, "To pretty for a mouth like that.” 
Which resulted in you chocking on your water mid-swallow, as you try to catch your breath you look up to see Kelly waiting for you to explain yourself. Finally, taking a deep breath you shake your head "Girl, bye ain’t nobody falling for his tricks and plus I don’t care to much about him especially after hearing about all the stuff he has done.” 
Kelly gives you an unconvinced look, "I'm not buying that and plus that little smirk you did while checking him out doesn’t exactly say you're not falling for his tricks," she says giving you a serious look.  
Walking up to you she put her hands on your shoulder,”Y/N, trust me on this do not get involved with this guy, you weren’t around when he was hunting each and everyone us down. He's the reason Captain Conrad isn’t here...and he could've been the reason for your father not being here too.” 
Nodding your head in thought your about to say Okay, when you hear a throat clear behind you. Looking back, you see Armando standing at the entrance with his arms crossed, “Dorn says he need your help with something Kelly, "he says with an unreadable expression. Feeling her give your shoulder a quick squeeze she gives you a ‘Don’t be stupid’ look, and makes her way towards Dorn. Watching her give Armando a mean side glance, you shake your head and drink the rest of your water. 
Turning to throw your bottle away, you still fill his presence lingering around. Glancing back, you see him staring at you, like he was contemplating on speaking or not. Pausing you asked if he needs help with something. Seeing him uncross his arms he walks up to the opposite end of the kitchen island and leans against it, while holding eye contact with you. Gazing at his arms as they lightly flex, you look back up at him when he says in a serious tone, "You think I was going after your people on purpose?” 
Leaning against the island yourself, you tap your fingers against it in thought. "I really don’t know you well to judge your actions, but I trust the people I love," you say giving Armando an unsure look. Armando holds your gaze eyes tracing your facial features, mind contemplating on what to say next. Breaking the eye contact you looked down and say "Besides, I know my dad and Mike are innocent but Hell I know for sure you aren't." Hearing movement and a scoff you look up to see Armando moving to your end of the kitchen island still with an unreadable expression. 
Walking back to create some space in-between you and him you bump into the counter. Before you can move, he places his hands on each side of the counter your stuck against. Hesitantly, you look up at him and gulp slightly as his brown eyes stare you down. “Are you scared of me,Mamá?”he says following your eyes as you try to look away. Returning your gaze back to his you say, "Now why the hell would you think, I'm scared of you.” 
Eyes flickering down at your lips he licks his and says, "Well your little amiga thinks I’m the big bad wolf, that's hunts innocent people." Realizing he heard your conversation with Kelly, you tense slightly and say ”Yeah, and what if I think that’s true." Staring up at him you wait for his reply, as you see him lean closer. Tilting his head beside your ear you could feel his breath as he whispers,” Bueno, entonces déjame cazarte, mamá.” (Well, then let me hunt you, mama)
Not knowing what he said you move your head away from his tilting it slightly, while giving him a look. Unknowingly, you both lean in two each other, absorbing each other's presence. As he leans down you seemed to come to your senses, and push against his hard chest stopping him. "I can’t this is wrong.” you said shaking your head. Feeling his rough but soft hands wrap around yours that was on his chest, you look up to see him studying you. 
Parting your lips to say something, you hear footsteps approaching, which made you tug your hands away from his. Not paying attention to the way his eyes flashed with a little bit of yearning, you head back into the living room, passing Mike on the way there who briefly looked at you. 
Running his hands through his hair he lets out a frustrated sigh, and makes a move to leave until he spots his father walking towards him. Mike analyzed his son in thought raising his eyebrows before saying, "Did I interrupt something between you two?”. 
Giving his dad a hard look as he passes by him, to return to the file he was previously looking through. He hears his dad says “Well, Damn my bad, son.” 
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Part 3 coming soon :)
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babyleostuff · 6 months
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౨ৎ voicemails xu minghao leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: darling, baby)
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...one: hi darling. we just got to the hotel. sleep well, and text me when you wake up tomorrow. i love you
…two: my mum called me today asking about you. do you mind giving her a call, she's been nagging me for weeks about you. i swear you're her favourite child at this point
...three: please don’t tell me you’re ignoring my calls because i broke that picture frame. i promise i’m going to be you a new, even prettier one when i come home. just… text me, please?
...four: i'm sorry but i won't be able to talk to you tonight, we have some schedules in the evening, and we'll probably stay at the venue until one or two. but send me like a voice message or something? i still want to hear about your day
...five: do you want to help me out, and choose some photos that i could post on instagram? i’ll send you a bunch from the gallery me and wonwoo went to today. you always pick the best ones
...six: i’m genuinely so sick of the boys, i’m going crazy. if you see some weird headlines about someone committing a murder just know it’s me
...seven: i know we’re supposed to talk later tonight, but i just wanted to say that i miss you
...eight: you sounded tired on the phone earlier today. i didn’t want to say anything, but (sigh) are you sure everything is okay? you know you can always talk to me, baby. even with an ocean separating us
...nine: did you take the sweater my mom got me for my birthday? i'm sure i packed it, but i can't find it anywhere.
...ten: you know... the tour is great, but i can't wait to go back home. i really miss you
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau
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hiitsm · 2 months
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Transient Connection: A Meeting of Worlds
Part 2.
You meet a beautiful woman at your workplace, who isn't a professional actress like you.
Fluff
Note: I'm not very well-versed in the acting world, so it's not described in great detail.
Request here
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Transient Connection: A Meeting of Worlds Series
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As you and Alexia make your way to the set, you can't shake the feeling of anticipation mixed with a hint of nervousness. The connection you felt with her during your impromptu dance was undeniable, and you hope it translates well into your scene together.
The set is a picturesque stretch of beach, with the sun setting in the background, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The director, a tall, energetic woman named Lisa, greets you both with a wide smile.
"Alright, ladies, this is a simple scene. It's all about natural chemistry and conversation. Just be yourselves, and remember, less is more," Lisa explains, her hands gesturing animatedly.
You and Alexia nod in understanding, taking your positions on the sand. The scene is supposed to be an intimate conversation between two strangers who find solace in each other's company at the end of a long day. It's a pivotal moment in the movie, meant to showcase vulnerability and genuine connection.
"Action!" Lisa calls out, and you both start the scene.
You look at Alexia, and for a moment, you forget the lines you had memorized. Her eyes, still shimmering from your earlier encounter, draw you in. You remember the dialogue and begin.
"You know, sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger than to people we know," you say, your voice soft and contemplative.
Alexia nods, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Sí, strangers don't have expectations. They don't judge."
You pause, letting the gentle sound of the waves fill the silence. "But sometimes, talking to a stranger can feel like finding a kindred spirit."
Alexia turns to you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Like meeting someone who understands a part of you that others don't."
The conversation flows naturally, your characters' lines blending seamlessly with your own thoughts and feelings. You feel the connection deepening with each word, the vulnerability you both share palpable.
"I think everyone needs someone like that," you say, your eyes meeting hers. "Someone who can see them for who they really are."
Alexia's smile widens, her eyes reflecting the warmth of the setting sun. "It's rare to find, but when you do, it's worth holding onto."
The director, Lisa, watches from a distance, a satisfied smile on her face. She can see the authenticity in your performance, the real emotions shining through.
As the scene progresses, you feel a sense of ease, as if you and Alexia are the only two people on the beach. The script fades into the background, and you find yourselves speaking from the heart.
"Maybe that's what this moment is," you say softly. "A chance to be real, to connect without any pretenses."
Alexia nods, her expression serious. "Maybe it is. And maybe, it's a moment we'll both remember."
The scene ends with a shared look of understanding, a silent promise of more to come. Lisa calls cut, and the crew erupts into applause, impressed by the genuine connection they witnessed.
"You two were amazing," Lisa says, walking over to you both. "The chemistry was perfect. It felt so real."
You glance at Alexia, a shy smile on your face. "Thank you. It felt real to us too."
Alexia nods in agreement, her eyes twinkling with a mix of relief and joy. "Gracias. It was… special."
As the applause dies down and the crew begins to pack up, you and Alexia exchange a look filled with unspoken words. The connection you felt during the scene lingers in the air, almost tangible. However, the reality of the situation quickly sets in as Joseph approaches.
"Great job, Alexia," Joseph says, a hint of urgency in his voice. "But we need to get going. The plane is waiting, and you have an important match to prepare for."
Alexia's expression shifts from joy to reluctant acceptance. "Sí, I know," she replies, turning to you with a wistful smile. "Duty calls."
You nod, understanding the demands of her career but feeling a pang of disappointment. "It was amazing working with you, Alexia. I hope our paths cross again."
"Me too," she says softly. "Maybe next time, we won't be so rushed."
Joseph checks his watch, his impatience growing. "We really need to go, Alexia."
"Right," she says, taking a step closer to you. "Thank you for everything today. You made it… special."
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Likewise, Alexia. Good luck with your match. I'll be rooting for you."
She grins, a spark of excitement in her eyes. "Gracias. It means a lot."
With a final, lingering glance, Alexia turns and follows Joseph towards the waiting car. You watch her go, the sense of longing returning. But you also feel a sense of hope, a belief that this isn't the end of your story with Alexia.
Valentina walks over, a knowing smile on her face. "She likes you, you know."
You chuckle, shaking your head. "We barely know each other."
"Sometimes, that's all it takes," Valentina says with a shrug. "But for now, let's wrap things up here. You've got a big day tomorrow."
As you help the crew finish packing up, your thoughts keep drifting back to Alexia. You replay the moments on the beach, her laughter, and the way her eyes lit up when she smiled. The connection you felt is undeniable, and you can't help but hope for another chance to explore it.
Later that night, as you lie in bed, you check your social media. To your delight, you see a new post from Alexia. It's a picture of the sunset from earlier, accompanied only by a single heart emoji. You instantly recognize the photo, you took it for her. Seeing it there, shared with such simplicity, makes your heart flutter. You know exactly what it represents, and it stirs a mix of emotions within you, hope, connection, and an undeniable sense of something special just beginning.
You stare at the image for a long moment, a smile playing on your lips. The fact that she posted it, even without words, speaks volumes. It’s a silent acknowledgment of the bond you felt today, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something wonderful.
Feeling a warmth spread through you, you double-tap the photo, leaving a discreet like, hoping she sees it and understands that you felt it too.
Several weeks later, you find yourself with a small break in your hectic schedule. After the whirlwind of filming, promotions, and interviews, the idea of escaping to Barcelona feels like a breath of fresh air. You've always loved the city, its vibrant culture, and beautiful architecture. More importantly, it's where Alexia lives, and the thought of possibly seeing her again makes your heart race.
Despite your excitement, there's also a nagging nervousness. You and Alexia had exchanged only a few messages after the shoot, mostly polite and friendly, but nothing deep. The connection you felt on the beach still lingers in your mind, but you're unsure if she felt it as strongly as you did. You've been contemplating whether to message her and let her know you're in her city, but the fear of making the first move holds you back.
Settling into your hotel room, you unpack your bags and take a moment to relax. The memory of your brief but memorable encounter with Alexia lingers, and you wonder what she's been up to. Your thoughts drift back to the sunset photo she posted, and the connection you felt.
Taking a deep breath, you open your social media app and navigate to Alexia's profile. You hesitate for a moment, your fingers hovering over the message button. It's been a few weeks since you last saw her, and although you've thought about reaching out, you haven't had the courage to do so.
Gathering your resolve, you start typing a message:
"Hey Alexia! I'm in Barcelona for a few days and was wondering if you'd like to catch up. Would be great to see you again if you're free. 😊"
You read the message over a few times, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. Finally, you hit send, and the message is on its way. The next few minutes feel like hours as you wait for a response, your mind racing with possibilities.
A notification pops up on your screen. It's a message from Alexia.
"Hey! That's amazing, welcome to my city! I'd love to catch up. How about we meet for coffee tomorrow? ☕"
After setting a time and place to meet with Alexia for coffee, you decide to take a leisurely stroll through a nearby park. The evening air is crisp and filled with the aroma of blooming flowers, adding to the sense of anticipation bubbling inside you.
As you walk, you find yourself lost in thought, replaying the upcoming reunion in your mind. You can't help but smile as you imagine catching up with Alexia, wondering how the conversation will flow now that you have the chance to talk without the distractions of a film set.
Finding a cozy spot at a café in the park, you order a coffee and settle in. Pulling out your phone to check the time, you become engrossed in a message from a friend when suddenly, you feel a slight bump and hear a soft apology.
Looking up, you're surprised to see Alexia standing before you, a small Pomeranian dog on a leash beside her. She looks equally surprised, her eyes widening in recognition.
"Hey! I was just…" you start to say, but your voice trails off as you realize she's on a phone call. You catch snippets of the conversation as she continues speaking in Spanish.
"… sí, mañana," Alexia says with a grin, clearly excited about something. "Sí, creo que sí. Gracias, María. Nos vemos mañana. Intentaré invitarla a salir. Adiós María, que tengas una buena tarde. Hablaremos pronto, sí, te avisaré cómo fue, sí, es mañana. ¡Adiós!"
"Hey!" Alexia exclaims with a slight blush when she put her phone away, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. She quickly composes herself, flashing you a warm smile. Her small Pomeranian dog, Nala, wags her tail happily at your feet.
"I was just… talking to my friend María," Alexia explains, her cheeks still tinged with a hint of shyness. "She was… uh, teasing me about something."
You chuckle softly, feeling a rush of relief that she's just as flustered as you are. "Sounds like an interesting conversation," you reply, trying to ease the awkwardness.
Alexia nods, regaining her composure. "Yeah, she's… Maria always has a way of getting straight to the point," she says, her smile returning. "But I'm glad I ran into you tonight. I was actually hoping I'd see you."
"Really?" you ask, pleasantly surprised by her admission.
"Yeah," Alexia admits with a sheepish grin. "I mean, I wasn't sure how to reach out after our last chat. And here we are, bumping into each other."
You smile back, feeling a surge of happiness at her candidness. "Well, I'm glad we did," you say sincerely. "It's nice to see you again."
Alexia nods, her gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Would you like to take a walk together?" she asks, nodding towards Nala. "Nala could use some more exercise, and I'd love the company."
As you walk together through the tranquil park, Alexia shares stories about Nala's antics and her favorite spots in Barcelona. The conversation flows effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and shared interests that make the time pass too quickly.
As the sun begins its descent, casting a warm orange glow over the park, Alexia suggests heading towards your hotel.
"Let me walk you there," she offers with a gentle smile. "It's getting late, and I want to make sure you get back safely."
You agree, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you walk side by side. When you arrive at your hotel, Alexia looks around, taking in the quiet street and the dimming light of the sunset.
"This is my stop," you say softly, gesturing towards the entrance. "Thank you for walking with me."
Alexia's gaze lingers on yours, her expression softening with a mixture of fondness and something more. "It was my pleasure," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.
Standing there, the air thick with unspoken desire, Alexia takes a small step closer. The intensity in her eyes draws you in, and without a word, she leans in slowly. Her lips meet yours in the gentlest of kisses, sending a jolt of warmth through you.
Time seems to stand still as you melt into each other, the world around you fading into insignificance. Alexia's touch is tender yet filled with longing, her lips soft against yours.
When she pulls back, a blush colors her cheeks, and she chuckles softly. "I've been wanting to do that since I first saw you again," she admits, her voice husky with emotion.
You smile, your heart racing with happiness and anticipation. "I'm glad you did," you reply softly, reaching for her hand and intertwining your fingers with hers. Leaning in for another kiss.
"So, this means that we are still on for coffee tomorrow?"
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adventuringblind · 8 months
Text
Rest
Norlestappen X Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff
Summary: Reader is struggling badly with a flair up but doesn't want to admit it.
Warnings: unspecified chronic illness, collapsing in exhaustion, worried boyfriends
Notes: another Nonny request!! Love this one so much! (Comments feed my praise kink and give me motivation to write... if anyone was wondering...)
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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The heat had been driving her insane. Qatar is a nightmare. It's so humid that it's difficult to breathe.
Her body despises the heat. It pulls every ounce of energy from her system. Make the pain soar to ungodly levels.
But she's not the one racing.
Max, Lando, and Charles are the ones racing. It's not fair to them that she needs their help when they have to endure whatever hell this is in a death machine for two hours.
She forces her mask back on and pretends she's fine despite her protesting body.
She checks on Charles first. Max and Lando are on the podium, so it gives her some time to see that he's alright.
Which, truth be told - he doesn't look. He's drenched in sweat mixed with cold water. He's panting and trying to peel off his fireproofs.
"Charlie? Are you okay?" She peeks her around the corner, and he shakes his head no.
She helps him get out of the drenched clothing and into a shower. Her phone buzzes violently in her pocket as Charles steps out. She kisses his cheek and dips out to see Lando, the culprit of calling her non-stop.
She drags her body to McLaren. Aching bones won't give her any reprieve as she walks. The heat is unbearable, smothering her mind in a deep fog she can't escape.
The McLaren staff barely bat an eye in her direction. Most give her pitiful looks, probably whispering about how she looks like a zombie.
She'll rest later. Her boys need her right now.
She taps Lando's door with her knuckles. He looks bright-eyed when she opens it. Smells of champagne sweat nearly knock her over. She has to bite back a gag.
Instead, she returns his smile and throws herself at him. "I'm proud of you!"
"Was a good race, wasn't it? A but jealous of Osc and proud at the same time."
She hums and closes the door behind her. Immediately going back to draping herself over the Brit. Effectively using him to help keep her upright.
"Are you alright, love? You look a bit out of it..."
"I'm fine, Lan, just been a long day, is all. Had a lot of cheering to do, you know!"
Lando manages to run around the small room, tugging off his wet clothes, rinsing his hair, and throwing on his team kit.
She grabs something to style his hair with, Lando will be in shambles later if he sees his hair looking wrecked.
She swears they both almost fall asleep to the repetitive movments. A small intimate thing shared between the two of them.
A much louder knock then her earlier one hits their ears, startling the two out of whatever trance they’re in. “Lando! You’ve got interviews to do!”
The Brit groans in disappointment, but gets up regardless. “Thank you, love.” He leans down to where she is still sitting and kisses her forehead. “Will you be alright?”
“I’m going to see Max next, I already saw Charlie.” She throws him a reassuring look. “I’ll be okay, promise.” She even holds out her pinky finger for him to wrap his own around.
That promise, however, is getting harder and harder to keep as she drags her weary bones to Max. Her body is screaming at her to stop moving, find somewhere to sleep for a couple of years before it goes back to making life difficult.
She shakes her head. No, she wasn’t the one driving in the hell today. She can wait until her partners are squared away.
Max greets her outside of the energy station. His face drops when he sees her. Her smile, although genuinely happy, is lopsided. Even the muscles that show her happiness are tired. That should be a red flag, but she continues forward.
Her and Max make their way to his drivers room. His arm wrapped around her waist in much ended comfort and support. She hopes he hasn’t caught on to the way she’s leaning into him to keep herself up.
they flop onto the couch together. “Lando told me you were on your way. He’s a bit worried about you.”
“I told him I’m alright, I promise. The heat is just difficult.”
“Tell me about it.” Max rolls his eyes.
Max’s presence and her comfortable position on the couch do nothing to help her fatigue. The drowsiness is slowly taking hold and she’s not sure how long she can hold it off for.
“You can sleep now, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She hadn’t even noticed she was asleep, slumped against Max’s body. Not until she cracks her eyes open and sees her lovers laying spread out across the room.
Ice packs are strewn across their bodies. Lando is drooling on Charles’ chest, Max has a hand dangling of the side of the sofa that looks like it was previously in charles’ hair, and Charles is sleeping with his body sitting upright.
She wants to giggle at the sight. They all look comfortable despite the chaotic positioning.
Her body moves on its own accord. the ice packs should be refrozen and she might be able to get her hands on some new ones while she’s at it.
She gets nowhere as Max’s arm wraps around her, pulling her back down on top of him. Lando and Charles stir awake from all the movement.
“Nice try, but you’re not going anywhere.”
She pouts at Max. “But I’m fine now. Just needed a nap, is all.”
Charles turns enough so that both him and Lando are able to see her, even if it’s not well. “The circles under your eyes say otherwise.’ He reaches up to hold her hand. “Thank you for taking care of us, but now it’s your turn.”
She would probably be crying s she had the energy to. The compassion they all have for her, even when she lacks it herself. It’s overwhelming at times. especially when she feels undeserving, like she hasn’t earned it.
Lando shimmies his way out of Charles’ hold and fixes himself. His arm coming up to wipe away the trail of drool. “Now that we’re all awake, I’ve tasked Oscar with bringing us popsicles, anybody want ‘em?”
A course of happy cheers fills the room at the mention of a cold treat.
Her smile doesn’t feel tired this time.
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signoferoda · 4 months
Note
Bestiee loved all your stories u have written!💗 can I request a angsty one shot?? Like H has being neglecting reader nd one time she made dinner for him nd he came late nd she was so sad but she didn't said anything cause she didn't want to be a burden so h came nd sees her sleeping on couch nd dinner was on the dining table nd then apologize to her for the way he was behaving nd it ends with smut??
I don't know if u would like this idea but if u comfortable writing this I would love to read it:)
enjoy! I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long :(
***
The cool autumn air drifted through the slightly open window of the cozy apartment, carrying with it the faint scent of the pumpkin spice candle burning on the coffee table. Y/N stood in the kitchen, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. The soft hum of the oven filled the silence, a stark contrast to the lively chatter that usually filled their home.
Harry had been distant lately. Late nights at the studio had turned into missed dinners and brief, half-hearted conversations. Y/N couldn't remember the last time they'd shared a meal or even a genuine moment together. Tonight was supposed to be different. She had spent hours preparing Harry's favourite meal, hoping it might remind him of the love and warmth they once shared.
She glanced at the clock again. 10:15 PM. Her heart sank a little deeper with each passing minute. She had texted him earlier, reminding him about dinner, but his response had been the usual vague promise: "I'll try to make it."
Y/N set the table, placing the freshly baked lasagna in the centre. The salad was already wilting, and the wine had lost its chill. She sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. She didn't want to be a burden, to nag him about spending time together. She knew how hard he was working, how much he wanted to succeed. But it hurt, nonetheless.
Finally, the front door creaked open, and Harry stepped in, looking exhausted. His tie was loosened, and his hair was a disheveled mess. He paused in the doorway, his eyes immediately drawn to the untouched dinner and the solitary place setting.
"Y/N?" he called softly, his voice heavy with fatigue.
No response. He walked further into the apartment, spotting her curled up on the couch, asleep. Her face was a picture of peaceful slumber, but he could see the traces of disappointment etched in her features. Guilt gnawed at him as he realised just how much he'd been neglecting her.
Harry quietly approached her, crouching down to brush a stray hair from her face. She stirred slightly but didn't wake. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for everything."
He took a moment to compose himself, then stood and walked back to the kitchen. The sight of the meticulously prepared meal made his chest tighten. She had gone through all this trouble for him, and he hadn't even had the decency to show up on time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her this vulnerable, and it shattered him.
Harry carefully reheated the lasagna, wanting to at least try and salvage some part of her effort. As the oven worked its magic, he poured himself a glass of wine and took a long sip, reflecting on how distant he had become. He missed her. He missed them.
When the food was ready, he filled a plate and brought it to the couch. Sitting down beside her, he gently shook her shoulder. "Y/N, wake up, love."
Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to surprise as she saw him holding the plate of food. "Harry?" she murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"
"It's late," he admitted, his voice soft. "I’m sorry I missed dinner. But I'm here now."
She looked at the plate and then back at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I... I didn't want to bother you. I know how busy you've been with the album."
Harry placed the plate on the coffee table and took her hands in his. "You could never be a bother to me, Y/N. I've been an idiot, pushing you aside for work. I thought I was doing it for us, but I see now that I've only been hurting you."
Tears finally spilled down her cheeks, and Harry pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I promise I'll do better. You mean everything to me, and I can't keep neglecting you like this."
She clung to him, the weight of her loneliness slowly lifting. "I just missed you, Harry. I miss us."
"I miss us too," he said, pulling back to look into her eyes. "Let's make it right, starting now. How about we share this meal together?"
She nodded, a small smile breaking through her tears. "I'd like that."
They sat on the couch, sharing the reheated lasagna and sipping the now-warm wine. The food was delicious, but more than that, it was the warmth of their rekindled connection that filled the room. They talked, really talked, for the first time in what felt like forever. And as the night wore on, the distance between them faded, replaced by a renewed promise of love and understanding.
Harry held her close as they finished the last of their meal, grateful for the second chance to make things right. He knew it wouldn't be easy, that they had a lot of healing to do. But with Y/N by his side, he felt hopeful. They had found their way back to each other, and that was a start.
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show-your-fangs · 1 year
Note
omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?
Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭
i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.
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this is part two of this blurb from my moments au
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader
Words: 1.7k
CW: nothing, just fluff.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
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He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.
That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you. 
The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.
You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.
“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert. 
“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know. 
“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.” 
“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”
That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate. 
“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”
You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips. 
“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”
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Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning. 
You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more. 
You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black. 
You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives. 
Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend. 
“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before. 
You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit. 
Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you. 
“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him. 
“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”
“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”
Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—
“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.” 
Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat. 
“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”
That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.
But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.
“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there. 
“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else. 
“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”
God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”
“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now. 
“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them. 
A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful. 
“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving. 
“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”
You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.
“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”
He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.  
“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash. 
The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.  
It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you. 
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i've been smiling like an idiot all day
taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch
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at0michips · 2 months
Text
interviews and intimacy — mike faist
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summary: the press tour of challengers was coming to an end, and even though Mike liked promoting his new movie all around the world, he was tired and even annoyed of the same old questions, so it did surprise him when a younger woman changed the pattern.
author note: just wanted to say that this is based off my deepest thoughts and hallucinations that this is going to happen to me someday and I just really needed to elaborate it further than in my brain. I have a lot more like this to work on so maybe it becomes a sort of series, who knows!! feel free to request
It was a full day, Mike has been patient and tried to be as social as possible with the press but he couldn't help the bad mood that came with those clueless questions that could totally put him and his coworkers in an uncomfortable situation, especially with both of them openly having a significant other. So when he heard that this would be the last interview of the press he felt relieved, he could go straight back into his house in New York, spend some days in there and go back to Ohio so he could see his family for a bit and then see what was his next step.
Everything seemed like it was going to work out nicely, and then it didn't looked like it anymore. After the new interview crew arrived he could hear some whispering between them.
"W-why does it have to be me?" one of the girls said a little loud only to be shushed by an older woman who was attaching a mic in her clothing
"Because you have a degree, because you have been helping Rose write the last interviews questions, because you're good!" she answered "Calm down, they're just people, ok? I spoke to her on the phone and she promised to pay you dinner next friday, keep that in mind." and then it hit him, that a girl who looked barely out of college was about to lead this interview.
The studio buzzed with the controlled chaos of a film set winding down for the day. Mike Faist sat across from you, a young journalist who had been unexpectedly thrust into the role of interviewer. Initially skeptical of her ability to handle the job, Mike found himself pleasantly surprised as the interview progressed.
"You know, for someone who's filling in last minute, you're doing pretty damn well," Mike remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.
You felt your shoulders relax a fraction, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. "Thank you. I'm glad I could hold my own."
Mike nodded thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "More than holding your own, actually. You're asking some really insightful questions."
You couldn't help but smile back, a mixture of relief and pride washing over her. "I've been a writer for a while, just not usually about movies."
"Well, maybe you've found a new calling," he teased lightly, his gaze lingering on her face. "You've definitely got a knack for it."
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his compliment. "I think I'll stick to writing," you replied, matching his playful tone. "But who knows? Maybe I'll make an exception."
Mike leaned in a bit closer, the studio lights casting a soft glow around the both of you. "I hope you do," he said sincerely. "Because I'd really like to see you again. Maybe over a drink, not in a studio."
You could feel your heart skip a beat at the invitation. "I'd like that too."
As they exchanged smiles, the noise of the studio faded into the background, leaving only the promise of a new connection blossoming between them.
The bar was buzzing with soft chatter and the clinking of glasses, casting a warm glow over you and Mike as you sat across from each other. After the earlier meeting for the interview, something had shifted, probably the intimate ambiance of the place helped it too.
"So, what's it really like being on stage every night?" you asked, with the voice laced with genuine curiosity.
Mike leaned forward, his eyes sparkling as he recounted stories from his time on Broadway. His passion for his craft was evident, and you found yourself captivated not just by his words but by the sincerity in his gaze.
As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving between laughter and moments of shared insight. Mike found himself drawn to your intelligence and wit, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something special about you.
The drinks arrived, and Mike hesitated for a moment before reaching out to lightly touch your hand. You looked up, meeting his gaze with a hint of surprise that quickly melted into a warm smile.
"I'm really glad we could do this," Mike admitted, his voice soft but earnest.
You could feel your heart skip a beat. "Me too," you replied, the voice tinged with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
In that moment, the air between you both seemed to crackle with unspoken tension. Without another word, Mike leaned in, closing the gap remaining between the two of you. Your lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss that spoke volumes of the attraction simmering beneath the surface.
It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent agreement of mutual interest and the beginning of something new.
The world around you seemed to fade away as they kissed, your hand finding its way to Mike's cheek as if to anchor yourself in the moment. Mike's heart raced, his mind momentarily forgetting the crowded bar and focusing solely on the warmth of your lips against his.
When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the space between them, Mike searched for your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of wonder and longing.
"Wow," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the soft background music.
"Yeah," Mike murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That was... unexpected."
You chuckled nervously, feeling a warmth spread around your face. "Unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome."
You sat in comfortable silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow of their kiss. The tension that had built up between you and Mike earlier seemed to dissipate, replaced now by a quiet understanding.
"I should probably walk you home," Mike suggested softly, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand.
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'd like that."
As you guys left the bar and stepped out into the cool night air, Mike offered you his arm, and you gladly linked hers through his. You walked side by side, with the shoulders brushing occasionally, each lost in their own thoughts yet connected by the spark that had ignited that evening.
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The Blackwood Knight prt.5
Description: In which Benjicot wishes to inspire his Lady's confidence in his love.
Playlist:
Once Upon a Dream~ Lana Del Rey
Steal My Girl~ One Direction
Call It What You Want~ Taylor Swift
Warnings: female reader. Nothing else I don't think. Just pure fluff.
Y/N tripped towards the Brackentree the next day in high spirits, her heart soaring at the confirmation that her love for her Blackwood knight was requited, turning over in mind the events of the previous afternoon and the memory of Benjicot’s smile as he kissed her hand at the border of the Bracken lands when they parted.
Buoyed by a newfound confidence, the source of which, she could only locate in the weeks she had spent in Benjicot’s company, she was surprised to see the glint of his sword leaning against their empty tree. Confused at the absence of the knight, where his sword was, she placed her hand on the trunk of the tree and began to look around it for signs of when he might have been there. As she leaned around the tree, a hand took hold of her own on the tree trunk and placed something around her finger. Startled, she turned rapidly to see the amused, yet soft smile of Benjicot, still holding her hand in his.
Smiling indulgently at him, she looked down at her hand in his to see a burnished gold band, encrusted with a deep garnet gem, sparkling on the second finger of her left hand.
Seeing Y/N’s quizzical expression, he pulled her hand gently towards him, raising it to wrap her arm around his neck, before reaching out with his other arm to encircle her waist, closing the distance between them.
“Do you like it?” he asked with a reverential tone.
“It’s beautiful, but why are you giving it to me?”
Chuckling indulgently and lightly pinching her cheek, he opened his palm to hold her face before responding.
“Unless you are planning on lancing me through the heart by renegading on your promise to marry me yesterday, I had hoped that the future Lady Blackwood would like to possess an heirloom of the House she is soon to belong to.”
Looking once again in wonder at the gem on her finger, she looked up at Benjicot with an expression of complete joy, surprising him by reaching up with both hands to encircle his neck in an embrace that lifted her off the ground, as he delightedly caught her and spun her in a circle, increasing speed as she began to laugh.
Reluctantly returning her to the ground, he continued to hold her in her embrace, both arms enclosed around her lower back, as he gaze down at the light of his life.
“If I had known that I would be rewarded with such a response to a small trinket I would have sacked my ancestral halls long before now and demanded you take your pick.”
Laughing at this and swatting at his chest, Y/N beamed up at him.
“It feels as if it is real now. That you really do love me and wish for me to be your lady.”
His face falling slightly at this, he pulled her closer towards his chest, trying to get as close to her as possible.
“It is real. I do love you. I do wish for you to be my lady, most desperately. So much so that I should be most put out if you backed out now,” he returned in a tone that made it sound like a sally, but held a depth of love and a fear that she may be retracting her earlier acquiescence to his proposal.
Smiling softly up at him, and grasping his hand in her now bejewelled hand, she assured him, “I won’t change my mind.”
“I am relieved to hear it” he returned, in a voice that held no mirth in it, his sigh giving away his genuine contentment at her assurance that he was not, in fact, to be lanced through the heart.
Lightening his tone, he continued, “it is of course a relief to be told that I am still for this world.”
“You’re so dramatic, Benji!” she laughed again, swatting at him again, as he sought to conceal from his expression how endearing he found these light touches, so indicative of them were they of her growing confidence in his love. He could also not deny that the lack of force she put into them was very sweet and only serve to strengthen his desire to protect such gentleness.
“Is that so?” he jested, “my lady does not care for my wellbeing then,” he sighed dramatically, turning from her, as if in high sorrow.
“She does not then love me as I love her. Alas, what misery, I shall go forwith and put myself to the sword.”
Grabbing his arm, Y/N looked up at Benji with fear in her eyes, and it was all he could do not to either laugh or kiss her, so concerned did she look by his blatant antics.
Continuing the charade, he moved away from her, with great reluctance.
“Life has lost all meaning for me now, there is nothing to be done. I must depart from it.” He sighed again, with great drama.
Continuing to stride away from her, he began to count in his head, secretly hoping she would stop him, so that he could again take her in his arms and end the game, little expecting her to grab him so abruptly, causing them both to lose their footing.
Turning himself quickly and wrapping his arms around her waist so that he landed on the ground, cushioning her fall onto his chest, he quickly lifted his head to check on her condition.
Raising them both so that he could hold her head and examine her face, checking for any sign of tears or distress that might reveal she had hurt herself, he was relieved to see that she looked confused, but unharmed. That was, before she fixed him with a glare and pushed herself up, away from him.
“You were jesting the whole time, you rogue.”
Pushing himself up with a laugh, he returned, “that may be so, but I cannot be sorry for it, when you so sweetly came to defend my life and then rewarded me by falling into my arms once again.”
Secretly rejoicing at the pink blush rising in her cheeks, he winked at her before leaning towards her to place a chaste kiss on her brow.
Hovering over the place in which he had planted a kiss, conveying all the reverence and admiration he held for her into it, he spoke lowly, and earnestly.
“I do mean what I say, even when I jest with you. It’s essential to me that you love me…that you will let me love you. That you will consent to be mine, as I am most undoubtedly yours.”
At this, he then continued to place small, reverential kisses onto both of her cheeks, both sides of her jaw, and finally on her lips, cupping her face as he did so.
The golden light of the sun cast it’s rays onto the sight of a knight and his lady, lying in a meadow, her head on his chest, as they continued to plan their lives together.
@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @drwho-ess
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moonlitstoriess · 2 months
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Across the Universe-ch.13 (Fenrys x Reader)
Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.
Warnings: some angst, violence, mutual pining, some kissing;)
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Her whole life, she never had anyone. Yes, she had her share of relationships, longest of them being with Azriel, she has had people whom she called friends, family even, she has had acquaintance's, those whom she trained and those whom she met.
But none had ever been loyal enough. Enough to have her back, enough to love her, enough to protect and support her. Enough to promise something to her. Azriel, no matter how long they had known one another, had never told her the three words she was desperate to hear, 'I love you'. He never cared enough about her feelings, her thoughts and words. He never soothed her nightmares.
And now, looking back on it with a clear mind, y/n could see what a blind fool she has been. He never loved her to begin with.
But, last night, Fenrys had not only opened up to her, shown her his unmasked side, but also promised so fiercely to protect her, to have her back. She didn't expect him to be so vulnerable with her. She sensed how he still held back about telling more but that was fine. Y/n was more than grateful with all that he shared with her. And now, knowing his backstory, or atleast some of it, she could only curse on those who ever hurt him. She could only wish for Maeve to come back from the dead so that y/n could brutally kill her with her own bare hands.
Y/n also realized how wrong she was when she judged him. He was not a self-centered, arrogant prick but an honorable, brave, loyal, loving and broken male who only wishes to finally find a purpose in life. Just like her.
Last night, after Fenrys made her a promise that shook her whole world, she managed to only stare at him with wide eyes and mouth which made him smile softly and detach from her, the feeling leaving her cold and for some reason, disappointed. He then turned his back on her and entered his room, shutting the door and leaving her in the middle of the hallway, frozen and absolutely in shock.
She slept like a newborn faeling for the rest of the night. No nightmares, no troubles sleeping, just pure bliss. And now, as she made her way to the training area even an hour earlier than she usually would, y/n felt very refreshed and energize-
"Lu! This is a surprise, since when have you been training?"
Lucien, half naked with his abs and muscles on display, dropped the weights that he was lifting and looked towards y/n.
The redhead pretended to be hurt as he put his hand over his heart, gasping, "Y/n, please, you're hurting my feelings. How exactly do you think that I keep this delectable physique?"
She laughed as she went towards the pitcher full of water.
"I don't know, I rarely ever saw you train in Velaris."
Lucien pointed a finger at her, "Key word, 'in Velaris'. Training with Cassian or Azriel never was the best thing, they just keep judging you, looking at you like you are lower than them."
She drank her water and put the cup down before shaking her head, "I am sorry Lu, it seems like they will never learn."
He just shrugged with a small smile, "Don't be, the only one with whom I truly ever connected there was and still is, you."
She genuinely smiled at that before heading to warm up. She heard his voice again as Lucien said while once again getting to work on his weightlifting, "So, what is going on between you and....what was his name- Fenrys. Yes."
She furrowed her brows and once again looked back at her friend, "What do you mean?"
Did he hear them last night? Impossible, they are in different parts of the palace.
"Well, I don't know, you seem to have some form of a connection. Rowan sees the tension too- in fact, everyone does."
"Nonsense Lu, there is nothing-"
"Do you love him?"
That question made her pause. Did she love Fenrys? Well, she certainly felt an attraction towards him. She felt care and adoration towards him but did she love him? No. No, she did not. She could never love anyone again. Not after what Azriel did. What happened last night was just a one time thing. He probably already forgot of what happened, probably moved on.
She sighed, "No. I do not."
"But you do care for him."
She looked up at her friend, who now was standing in front of her, his arms crossed, "Yes. I care.....as a friend."
"And when we go back, will you forget him as just a friend, a moment in your life, and move on?"
"I won't of course, I mean....he made an impact- this whole thing was unusual and made an impact and....and even if I wont ever see him again I will remember him as a....a good, great even, friend- why are you even questioning me like this is some kind of a trial?"
Lucien smirked and opened his mouth to say something when they heard a wyverns roar. They both turned around to see two figures in the distance, Manon and Petrah, exiting the palace and going towards their beasts.
From the urgency in their stride, it was clear that something was off. Y/n quickly made her way towards them as Lucien grabbed his shirt together with a sword and followed right behind her.
When they reached them the two seemed o be in some kind of a heated discussion as Manon just shook her head, ".....No, just trust me, Petrah. I am going and you either follow me or stay behind but do not tell me not to go."
Petrah just rubbed her temples while sighing, "And what if that place holds nothing? What if your guess proves to be fruitless?"
"Then-"
"What's going on? Where are you going?"
The witches turned their heads to look at her and the prince, Manon just sighed while Petrah tried to keep her expression cool but her eyes betrayed her as they slightly widened while taking in the half naked, sweaty male beside her. She was truly eye-fucking Lucien. And when y/n gave a side eye to him, she saw how Lucien's gaze was also taking in the witch from head to toe. Manon and y/n's eyes collided and they both tried to calm their growing need for laughter.
Manon was the one to quickly recover, clearing her throat, causing the two to just look away immediately, a small, tiny blush overtaking Petrah's cheeks as she tried saying in her most stable voice, "Uh...yeah um- me and Manon are going after the surviving valg."
That caused both her and Lucien's mood to sour as he quickly asked, his voice heavy with concern and frustration, "And you were planning to go alone?! Just the two of you?! Do you even know where you're going?"
Manon scoffed and Petrah's brows furrowed in anger as she crossed her arms, "You think too little of us, prince. Just wait till you see us in action. We are no weaklings."
Manon interfered, "I have a guess about where they might be so I decided to go there. I was going to go all alone, but Petrah found me midway and is now stuck to me like a leech, as you can see."
Petrah glared at her queen, "I'm your second in command, it's my job to have your back."
Before y/n could reply, Lucien said, in a determined voice, "I am coming with you." as he went towards Luna while putting his shirt on, not giving any room for arguments. Petrah looked after him and sighed in frustration before marching over to reach him.
Manon looked at y/n, one eyebrow raised, waiting to hear her decision.
She smirked at the queen, "Well, can't let my kin and my friend go on a dangerous mission without me."
Manon chuckled as she turned and began walking towards Abraxos, "You are a fighter, witchling."
Once they were all sat on their respective wyverns, Lucien sitting behind Petrah on Luna and Manon on Abraxos, the queen flew up first, followed by Petrah as y/n stretched her wings one last time before leaping into the sky.
Y/n soared through the morning sky, her wings catching the first rays of sunlight as they spread wide and strong. The world below was bathed in the soft hues of dawn, casting long shadows across the landscape. Manon and the others flew ahead, their wyverns cutting through the crisp morning air with purpose.
The morning air was alive with the sounds of nature awakening—the distant call of birds, the rustle of leaves stirred by the wind, and the occasional distant roar of a wild creature. Y/n could feel the pulse of anticipation, a quiet understanding that they were on the cusp of something significant.
Beside her, Abraxos glided effortlessly, his scales gleaming in the early light. Y/n glanced at Manon and Petrah ahead, their expressions resolute as they navigated towards the mountainous terrain that loomed in the distance. Lucien rode behind Petrah, his posture determined yet cautious, his eyes sharp with vigilance.
Manon's voice broke the tranquility, firm and commanding as she directed their course towards a narrow pass between two towering peaks. Y/n followed, her senses alert, muscles tensed in readiness. They flew closer, the mountains rising like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets hidden within their depths.
As they approached the pass, a sense of solemnity settled over them. Y/n exchanged a glance with Manon, their unspoken communication reflecting a shared resolve. 
Lucien's voice cut through the air, steady and reassuring, "Stay alert, everyone. We don't know what we might find beyond these mountains."
Petrah nodded firmly, her grip tightening on Luna's reins. The morning sunlight cast long shadows ahead, obscuring what lay beyond the threshold of the pass. Together, they flew into the pass, leaving behind the morning light and stepping into the shadowy depths of the mountains. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what fate had in store for them beyond the horizon.
As they ventured deeper into the narrow pass, the air grew cooler and the light dimmer, swallowed by the looming cliffs that surrounded them. Y/n could feel the ancient weight of the mountains pressing in, their jagged peaks reaching towards the sky like the claws of sleeping giants.
Manon led the way with a steady grace, her eyes scanning the rocky terrain for any signs of movement or disturbance. Abraxos' wings beat rhythmically against the silence, a reassuring sound amidst the eerie stillness of the mountain pass.
Without a word, Manon landed and dismounted Abraxos, her movements fluid and silent. Y/n and the others followed suit. The air hummed with tension as they crept forward, every sense alert to the danger that lurked in the shadows.
Before she could blink, Petrah had her claws and teeth out, much to Lucien's absolute shock, and Manon had her sword in her hand, positioned in front of her and ready to strike as she went ahead and slowly lead the way. Y/n mirrored Petrah's actions, letting her nails and teeth out as Lucien also swiped his sword out.
Manon motioned for them to spread out, her eyes gleaming with a fierce determination. With a swift gesture, she indicated a narrow passage leading deeper into the mountain. Y/n nodded as she followed Manon's lead. They moved silently, shadows melding with shadows as they navigated the labyrinthine tunnels.
The air grew colder, carrying the scent of damp earth and something darker—an acrid tang that spoke of ancient magic and lingering menace. Y/n could feel the weight of history in the stones beneath her feet, a silent witness to the battles fought and the secrets buried within the mountain's heart.
Ahead, the tunnel widened into a cavern—a vast, echoing space illuminated by flickering torchlight. Manon's hand tightened on Y/n's shoulder, a silent warning to stay alert. Petrah and Lucien flanked them, their presence a steady reassurance in the face of looming danger. Y/n swallowed hard, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she prepared for whatever lay ahead.
But when they ventured even further into the vast cavern, y/n's eyes widened with shock. The whole place was covered in unique drawings and writings, most probably an old language she had no idea about. Hanging from the rocky ceiling was a huge upside down, marble statue of a woman-
Manon gasped, "Mala the Firebringer,"
Y/n had no idea on who that woman was and from the slight confusion evident on Lucien's face, he didn't know either. But the two other witches gave a wide eyed look at one another before looking back at the tapestry.
The statue of Mala was a haunting sight to behold. Carved from smooth marble, her features were regal and serene, yet an aura of sorrow seemed to emanate from the stone. Black vines and roses wound around her suspended form, twisting and coiling in a macabre embrace. One black rose emerged from her mouth, its petals stark against the pale marble.
But, before they could explore even further, a voice echoed through the cavern—a low, mocking laugh that sent a chill down Y/n's spine. "So, you've come to play, little witches and prince," it taunted, the words dripping with malice.
Laughter echoed back and then, the shadow shifted, a weird creature coming into view. Weird because while the face of this being was that of a young, handsome man, the body was old, wrinkly and all in all, ancient. From the corner of her eye, y/n saw Lucien shift slightly, coming to stand in front of Petrah.
The Valg-whatever smiled an ugly smile, displaying his rotting fangs as he spoke once more, his voice going from young and charming to old and ugly in a second, "What a surprise has it been, Manon Blackbeak. How is your kingdom?"
Manon simply stared at him, not gracing him with an answer, her expression cold and calculating.
The valg chuckled "And you, Petrah Blueblood, aren't you jealous that a Blackbeak heir sits the throne of Witches?"
When Petrah didn't reply either, his gaze shifted to Lucien, "Oh, how could I forget the fire prince? The one that the book deemed fit enough to send between worlds....our worlds. We shall come for Prythian too."
Lucien's expression hardened but he was too busy glancing around, trying to detect if there was anyone else, to even reply to the ancient hag.
Finally, his chilling gaze landed on her, his smile growing even larger as he said, "Ah, y/n. Y/n y/l/n. I always had a suspicion that Elara would have a descendant of hers roaming around somewhere, unaware of her own powers. How hilarious that this whole time, you were in Prythian, a part of that Death Incarnate's court, unaware of who you truly are."
Y/n's breath hitched, "Have- have you been watching me? This whole time?"
The Valg's smile vanished as he ignored her and looked at Manon and Petrah, and said in the most horrific, ancient voice that carried an echo of millennia "Traitors! Traitors!"
Manon's iron teeth came to view as she spoke, "How many of you are here?"
The Valg started to slowly come towards them, "Oh, they do not know of any of you being here. I shall kill you myself and take the glory for myself once I bring them your dead bodies. What a feast it shall be!"
And then, he jumped, right towards her but y/n managed to quickly dodge away from his path, ripping some of his skin off with her iron claws in the process. He was too quick. Whatever these Valg's posessed, it gave them unimaginable powers. Speed is just one of them.
Petrah sprang into action, her iron claws and teeth glinting menacingly in the dim light of the cavern. She moved with a feral grace, ready to confront the Valg with all her strength. Manon and Lucien swiftly joined her, drawing their swords with a determined resolve.
The Valg hissed as it faced the group. Its twisted form was adorned with dark symbols and runes that pulsed ominously with power. The cavern seemed to tremble with its presence, shadows swirling around it like tendrils of malevolent energy.
The Valg let out a guttural growl. It lunged at Petrah with startling speed, claws extended to rend and tear. Petrah met its attack head-on, her iron claws clashing against the Valg's twisted talons.
It retaliated with a burst of dark energy, sending shards of stone and earth hurtling towards the group. Lucien deflected them with his sword, his movements precise and calculated.
Manon danced around the Valg, her sword a blur of lethal strikes. She aimed for its joints, seeking to disable its agility. The Valg countered with a blast of searing energy, forcing Manon to leap back with a curse.
When she saw an opening, y/n lunged. She aimed for the Valg's back, trying to claw its heart out like she did with the other beast in the forest. But the creature moved too quickly, appearing right in front of her, mouth wide open as it battled against her, claws clashing as it tried to bite her throat.
Sensing an opportunity, Lucien lunged forward with a decisive strike, his sword slicing through the air with deadly intent.
With a final, resounding blow, Lucien's sword pierced the Valg's heart. Dark blood spilled from the wound, mingling with the shadows that surrounded them. The creature let out a haunting cry, its form dissolving into wisps of dark smoke that dissipated into the cavern air.
Silence descended upon the cavern, broken only by the ragged breaths of the group. They stood together, chests heaving with exertion and adrenaline still coursing through their veins. Y/n tilted her head back while closing her eyes, relief flooding her as she looked at her companions.
They all seemed fine. As fine as someone who fought against a demon beast could be atleast. But it wasn't until Petrah looked up at everyone with wide eyes, suddenly falling to her knees while clutching her stomach, blue blood visibly beginning to cover her hands.
No.....no, Petrah could not die like this. She could not.
Before y/n could even process it, Lucien ran towards the witch, screaming, "Petrah!" Manon, wide eyed, shouted, "Quick! Get her on Luna! We have to leave, now!"
Lucien easily got ahold of her, gently lifting her up in a bridal style as he ran after Manon, y/n following suit, covering their backs.
"Just press on the wound Petrah! We will get you healed soon, please just hold on a little more."
Lucien'c voice was frantic, unrecognizable as they all quickly made their ways to the wyverns, Manon looked at the prince, "Do you know how to ride a wyvern?"
"I-"
"Yes or no, we are loosing time!"
"Yes! I will! I will manage just- just help me get her on Luna!"
Once Petrah, barely conscious, was secured, Lucien sat right behind her, gripping her waist gently as he took ahold of the wyvern's reigns with his other hand and immediately leapt off the ground, followed by Manon and y/n.
They flew as fast as they could, Lucien leading the way and shouting at Luna to fly faster. Y/n could only hope that they would make it in time to the palace because even though she hadn't known Petrah for very long, she had grown to warm up towards the witch. Not to mention how they were of the same kin which made y/n feel protective over her.
Once they reached the palace, y/n landed first followed by the two wyverns. She quickly ran towards Lucien to help as Manon went inside to call for a healer immediately. The distress written all over his face made y/n feel so worried for her dear friend. She knew how he felt. After all, that is exactly how she was when Fenrys got injured. Why? she had no idea.
They entered the palace, Petrah barely holding on, Lucien going livid while carrying her in his arms, Y/n by his side, her hand on Petrah's stomach, covered in blue blood. Manon came rushing back with not just some of the healers but also Aelin, Rowan, Aedion and Fenrys.
There was chaos all around her and when the healers moved to take Petrah and put her on a stretcher, Lucien growled. He growled at the healers as if they were an enemy, "She goes in my arms."
The healers nodded and quickly lead the way, followed by the others and y/n was also about to follow when someone grabbed her arm and turned her around, making her loose her balance and almost crush with a hard chest. The hands went to her shoulders, helping her to stable herself as she looked up to see.....Fenrys. And Cauldron save her, he did not look happy at all. His onyx eyes were wide with anger as his grip on her tightened.
Before she could blink, he dragged her with him, not caring about the blue blood on her hands and arms getting on his skin too. She had no idea what was going on, where he was taking her, just stumbling behind him as he gripped her by the arm and lead the way.
"Fenrys what are you doing?"
He didn't answer.
"Fen, slow down!"
He didn't.
"I swear-"
He opened some door and shoved her in, following close behind before locking them in.
When he turned to face her, his fists were clenching and unclenching beside him as the vein on his neck was also popping out due to the clear anger at whataver it is that he was presenting her with.
Fenrys came to stand right in front of her, their chests touching as he suddenly grabbed her jaw with his hand and turned her face from one side to the other, assesing her.
Her brows furrowed, "Fenrys-"
"Shut up."
Well, he was definetly mad at her. His voice was filled with a mixture of frustration and worry.
Once Fenrys was done assesing her face, he took a step back before looking all over her body, from her head to her toes, to her wings. And once he was done with that too, he looked back at her eyes, his intense eyes focusing in on hers.
Y/n felt like she wanted to shrink and become invisible under his livid gaze. Before she could question him even further, he once again came to stand in front of her, looking down on her face.
"How dare you."
Confusion was evident in her face as y/n asked, "What?"
He suddenly grabbed her waist pressing her body to his with one arm and gently bringing her head to his chest while caressing her hair with the other.
Now, he whispered, "How dare you put yourself in the way of danger again. Didn't I promise you that I would shield you from any kind of darkness? How can you go there without telling me, risking yourself."
He was concerned for her? This was why he was mad? Because she put herself in danger?
"Fen-"
"What if it was you instead of Petrah? I would have to go on a full on killing spree then, paint this entire kingdom in black blood."
She tilted her head back, raising an eyebrow, "And where is this protectiveness coming from?"
That question seemed to change something in him, making realization over what he just said take over his face, causing him to slightly loosen his grip on her.
And then, he said the sentence that completely shattered any foolish feelings or growing hope within her chest, bringing her back to reality.
"How will you go back if you're dead? Can't have you dead on my watch, friend."
She pushed back, ripping herself out of his arms as she looked at him, her face full of rising anger and annoyance, "So that's it then? you need me alive so that you won't feel responsible or guilty if I end up dead? So that you can send me back to my world? That's it?"
Fenrys scoffed, crossing his arms, "What did you expect, y/n? That just because I talked with you, that because we kissed and I ate you out, we would have some sort of a relationship? Well, let me tell this to you now, erase any of those kinds of thoughts. You and I have no happy end. It was just purely physical."
It wasn't just purely physical though and he knew it. It was far more intimate than that.
Logically, he was right. They were nothing, they would always be nothing. Their story would be a tragedy instead of a happy one. She has to go back and he has to stay here. They were both stressed and used last night as an opportunity to be vulnurable and intimate with one another. Logically, she should agree with him because after what happened with Azriel, her heart shouldn't feel this way.
But, emotionally, she was just dissapointed. Why? She had no right. He was right, her mind was already getting ahead of itself, imagining a future that would never happen.
Foolish, foolish heart.
With a deep breath, she looked back at him, sculpturing her face into a mask of indifference as she moved past Fenrys, while speaking with a cool and steady voice, "You are right. We are a tragedy waiting to happen."
Before she could hear his reply, y/n quickly left the room, closing the door behind her as she strided towards the healers hut.
Once she reached the place, y/n saw everyone except Yrene and Lucien gathered in the room, waiting for Isolde to come out from the adjacent room with news. At her confused expression, Lysandra said from her place on the couch, "Lucien refused to leave her side. When Rowan and Aedion tried to move him away, he threatened to rip them apart."
Interesting.
She nodded her head slightly in understanding and looked around the room. Everyone's expression's were solemn and mournful, Manon looked worse than them all, Dorian kept on caressing her back and pecking her head with light, gentle kisses as she leaned on him.
She went and sat beside Manon in the corner of the room. Placing her hand on the queen's shoulder. Everyone was busy with their own hushed conversations as Manon whispered, for only y/n and Dorian to hear, "It's my fault."
Both the Illyrian and the king beside the witch replied at the same time, "No!"
Dorian's grip on her tightened, "It's absolutely not your fault, witchling. How-"
Manon just moved back from him, now sitting upright between y/n and him as she stared off into the distance with a sad smile, "The Thirteen died because of me. Now, she will die because of me too. I really am a kin slayer."
Y/n had no idea about who The Thirteen were but, she knew about Petrah and Manon for sure wasn't the one to blame for her injury.
Dorian took her face in his hands and turned her face towards him, "Manon, listen. The Thirteen chose to sacrifice themselves for a better world. You didn't force them, you didn't order them to do it. They did it because they loved you and wanted you to lead the witches into a brighter future."
She just shook her head and y/n put her hand on the witches, making both her and Dorian look at y/n. "Manon, we all went there while knowing what could've happened. Petrah went there, she followed you because you are her queen. You are her leader and she is loyal to you. Her loyalty and repect lies with you. We all fought and Petrah got that injury knowing that it was a possibility when we first came there. So I will not allow you to blame yourself over her attack."
The queen's expression was still sorrowful but the corner of her lips did twitch slightly while her grip on her hand tightened and y/n took it as a form of progress.
Manon whispered again, "When we were in Morath, Erawan would tell us how he was planning on sending his valg spies into the area between those to mountains in Orynth. That's why I thought maybe they could've still been there."
Aelin's voice made the three of them turn towards her and y/n's eyes caught Fenrys entering the room, no sign of any blue blood on him. He clearly changed out of his clothes. His eyes went straight to her but y/n willed herself to look at Aelin.
"Alright, since we are all here, waiting for news on Petrah's well-being, we might as well discuss our next move," the blond queen looked at Chaol who was still in a wheelchair next to Eva, "Chaol, since you're her husband, I am guessing you have an idea on Yrene's progress."
The man just sighed as he said, "Obviously, from the state that I am in, my wife is working very hard. I try my best to persuade her for some rest but, she won't move away from the damned books. She eats and drinks but doesn't sleep. And everytime I ask her on what's happening, she just shushes me and tells me 'soon'. So, that's all from me, really."
Aelin nodded and looked at y/n and Manon as she said, "And now, thanks to these four, we know where the valg may be hidden. We just don't know how many of them are there and how deep they are settled. We need a proper sketch and layout of their place."
Rowan got up and headed towards the door, "I will go find Nox. He is good at staying hidden and working stealthily."
Aedion looked at his cousin, "And once we figure every detail about them out, what then?"
Aelin looked at everyone in the room, "Then, we destroy them, and hopefully, whatever Yrene finds, will help us to completely end the valg. And then," the queen turned to look straight at y/n, her gaze unvawering, as she said, "And then, y/n closes the gates."
Y/n furrowed her brows, her heart rate increasing, "And how do I do that?"
Aelin crossed her arms, her gaze calculating, "I guess that is the only thing left for us to solve now."
So this was really happening now, wasn't it? Just one more step and she would be home with Lucien. Somehow, that thought left a sour taste in her mouth.
The door on the other side of the room opened, Isolde coming into view, everyone's attention went to her as she smiled slightly and said, "She will be fine. The wound was deep but no concerning damage was done to the internal organs. Thankfully, you managed to bring her quickly for medical intervention which is why a complication like infection wasn't observed either. She is still unconscious but hopefully, with our healing and treatments, she will be awake in a few days."
She heard audible sighs of relief, one coming from her and the witch beside her as Manon sagged back into Dorian's embrace while still holding y/n's hand.
"Thank you, Isolde." Aelin hugged the healer as everyone started to slowly exit the room. Fenrys glanced at her once more before pushing past Lorcan and leaving. Y/n guessed it was about time she went up to her room and washed up before hopefully, getting some much needed sleep.
Isolde opened the door and went back into the room, but not before y/n saw a glimpse of Lucien's red hair, as he sat on a chair, his head low, arms on his knees, right next to the bed Petrah was in.
He was an idiot. A fool.
Fenrys closed squeezed his eyes shut as he sat on his balcony floor, leaning against the wall six hours later. For the past few hours, ever since his little heated argument with her, he tried to keep himself busy, hoping that he would forget whatever was between them. Whatever this constant pain in his heart was.
After he left the healing hut, Fenrys shifted and took a walk through the woods to clear his mind. When that didn't work, he had Lorcan fight with him in the training ring. When that didn't work either, he immersed himself in paperwork, signing and reading countless letters and news for him. Unfortunately, two hours of that didn't help either so, he tried to help Yrene with the book-- solving whatever --but she kicked him out after only a half hour of work because according to her, 'he was stressing too much about something, which made her stress too.' And lastly, he sat with Abraxos and Luna but the two wyverns seemed to be quite occupied with one another, making him feel jealous of a Gods damned wyvern, so he left them too and came to his room, still unsuccessful in his conquest of forgetting y/n, staring blankly at the last rays of sunlight before the dawn of the sunset.
The face she had made when he had talked so cruelly to her constantly replayed itself in his mind, causing him to groan out in frustration. He didn't mean it. Gods curse him, he didn't mean any of it. But his foolish, stubborn side made him blabber those words out at her, still, for some reason, annoyed at the fact that she would leave soon. And Aelin openly stating that earlier didn't make it any better.
Why? Fenrys why?
That was a good question, one to which he still had no answer. Fenrys definetly felt something for her, that much he can admit and after what happened last night, his feelings only intensified. But she wasn't his. Yes, he made a promise and yes he would keep it. Even when she will be long gone, back to her world, he would still ensure that her light never dims.
But it was normal right? Friends care and protect one another and y/n had become a very good friend to him in these last few weeks.
Friends don't kiss each other on the lips.
He ignored that silly little voice. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days, ignoring.
Fenrys sighed and opened his eyes, soaking in the view in front of him. He acted like an uncultured beast towards her today. He could never stoop as low as anyone else in her life did towards her, as Azriel did towards her. Gods, if he made her feel pained, what is his difference from that other male? If she ever told him that he was just like Azriel, Fenrys would have to kill that bastard male first and then kill himself because none of them ever deserved her kindness, her care....her heart. And that wouldn't do. He had to apologize, had to make amends, but how?
You know how, idiot. The place.
But, is she the one? Does she deserve to see that place? To recieve that gift from him? He meant to show that place only and only to his mate, if he ever found them.
Don't be foolish, Fenrys. Show her.
A sudden surge of determination and need took over his senses as Fenrys got up and headed towards his bane of existence's room.
He knocked on the door once, she didn't open.
Twice, she didn't open.
On the third time, the door opened and he was met with a very angry yet adorable looking witchling.
She clearly woke up from some kind of a nap because her hair was a mess, her cheeks were red and her clothes were crumpled. But what made her even cuter was the way she tried to seem intimidating by giving him an angry glare and crossing her arms over her chest.
"What."
That one word brought Fenrys back from his little world as he cleared his throat and told her, "Get changed, I am taking you somewhre."
She was about to protest when he raised his hand, effectively silencing her. "I'm sorry if that sounded like a question. Get changed, I am taking you somewhere."
And with that, Fenrys turned around and left down the hall with a smirk, knowing how curious she was and that in the end, it would win over her other feelings, making her follow him.
Twenty minutes later, he saw her come down, dressed in a simple long sleeved, ankle length, light gold dress that still somehow managed to make her the most attractive being he had ever laid his eyes upon.
She was furious but in the end, her curiosity got the best of her as she got ready while still cursing Fenrys' name and whatever his plans were. But, seeing him so enthralled with her, taking her in from head to toe when she came down the stairs, made y/n feel a level of confidence and power that she had never felt before.
Fenrys himself looked beyond attractive as she took him in. Hair let loose, cascading down to his chest, a simple white tunic and black pants with knee high boots. Yet he still looked so hot and delicious and otherworldly and charming and-
Enough. What's wrong with you??
Y/n reached him and cleared her throat, causing the male to refocus his attention on the reality. He put his palm behind his neck, rubbing it as he smiled a little, "You look....beautiful."
She wanted to thank him, to compliment him in return but, he still had a long explanation to make and she wasn't about to just forgive him this easily.
Fenrys turned towards the doors and said, "Follow me."
And follow him she did. They walked inside the forest, going deeper and deeper with each passing second, making y/n question her choice of wearing a dress. It seemed like hours, sunset already starting, before they reached the apparent location. Multiple rows of vines were hanging from trees, covering the view beyond. Once Fenrys made way for them, they reached an opening.
And y/n let out an audible gasp at what she saw.
Soft, iridescent mist drifted lazily through the air, catching the dappled rays of sunset that filtered down from the canopy above. The ground beneath was carpeted with lush moss that glowed with a faint, silvery luminescence, casting gentle reflections onto the surrounding foliage.
In the center of the glade, a crystalline pool of water shimmers like liquid sapphire, its surface as smooth as glass and. Ethereal blossoms of palest blue and silver grew along the water's edge, their delicate petals unfolding in silent reverence to the magical energies that imbue the glade.
Towering ancient trees with silver-barked trunks encircle the glade, their branches adorned with shimmering leaves that seem to dance with every breath of wind. Ethereal creatures, elusive and radiant, flit among the branches, their forms translucent and their voices a melody that echoes through the glade.
And because it was dusk, the glade took on an otherworldly glow. Fireflies with wings of opalescent hues emerged from hidden alcoves, their gentle bioluminescence creating a constellation of flickering lights that hover above the glade like a canopy of stars.
"I found this place absolutely ruined after the war and transformed into what it is now. No one knows of it's existence. Well, apart from you and me."
Y/n turned her head to look at Fenrys, a little behind her, also looking around as he continued, "I found this place on accident, really. I saw the lake and though everything around it was destroyed, it still shimmered, still called to me. I also felt the immense magical presence still surrounding this place."
He looked up with a serene smile, "The Little Folk also helped me. They recognized me as someone who was worthy enough of helping, and aided me in creating this place. Ever since then, it has just been a secret. A well kept one. And I have been coming here whenever I needed an escape, which seems to be happening more and more nowadays." he finished his explanation with a low chukle.
Y/n's lips trembled as she started to slowly approach him, her voice shaky as she asked, "Why? Why show this place to me then?"
Now standing side by side, right next to the water, he turned to face her, his face becoming serious once more, "Y/n, I am truly so sorry for what I have said to you. I know I may be hard to be around with but I am trying, I am trying and it's for you. Only you. I will be truthful for I do not enjoy lying. I have come to feel some things towards you. A mixture of things, actually. Care, adoration, respect, loyalty. I have come to enjoy your presence in my life, too much actually. And I know I shouldn't because you will leave at some point. You will leave and forget me-"
She shut him up with a kiss. He was startled for a moment but then kissed her back. Her hands came around to his back as he pulled her even closer. After what felt like forever, they pulled back for air, both of them panting heavily as y/n whispered, "I will never forget you, Fenrys."
The second she said that, he pushed back, his eyes going wide, clutching his chest.
He was planning on giving her the gift. The one he had created so many years ago with a silly little hope of ever gifting it to his mate. The special one. But what was happening to him now, made him realize that it wasn't a silly little hope. It was real.
Fenrys suddenly felt that unmistakable bond, that unmistakable golden thread that began woving itself within him. That immediate rush of unexplainable mix of emotions and powers hitting him, making him realize that.....
Y/n, the y/n standing in front of him, was Fenrys' mate.
Oh, fuck.
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pretty-sparkle-bomb · 3 months
Text
Prince Katsuki Bakugo x Female Reader
Please support me by leaving a like or comment to let me know what you liked most about the chapter and what you expect to come in the next one! Taglist: Open
You are now reading Part 3 of Promise! Enjoy my lovelies <3
Part 1 Part 2
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When you were six, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at the park. You never saw your childhood “spouse" again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country...where your wedding to the heir to the throne fifteen years ago is seen as valid.
Turns out, he's lying to you? Wait...WHAT?
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"I was wondering if you were still interested in marrying Prince Bakugo to my daughter, Princess Uraraka."
Wait... What?
Your heart leapt in your chest as your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. You turned to Katsuki, observing the snarl on his face, and then to his parents, who seemed amused by the situation.
"I think you forget your place quite often, isn't that so?" Queen Mitsuki stood up, arms crossed over her chest as she glared down at the other woman.
"The purpose of this dinner was to meet the potential future Queen of the Dynamite Kingdom," King Masaru added, standing up as well.
The room fell silent, everyone staring at you.
"This is absurd! Truly, you do not mean that a mere commoner can handle a kingdom of such greatness," the lady retorted, causing mumbles of agreement to erupt within the audience.
You felt a sudden surge of anxiety, and your confidence began to falter.
"Watch your mouth. She's more capable than you can imagine."
A loud voice immediately silenced the entire table of nobles and dignitaries. You looked up at the bearer of such power and found Katsuki looking down at you with a look you couldn't quite decipher.
Then it hit you.
Right. This was supposed to be all a game of pretend. He holds no genuine concern for you. You are just another pawn in his game.
You only nodded emotionlessly at him, who shot you a confused look before glaring at the entire table. The people turned their attention to the King, who, despite his now cold demeanor, had a glint of amusement in his warm eyes.
The night progressed further, and the members of the King and Queen's Council all introduced themselves to you, along with a couple of special guests, some other lower-ranking Kings and Queens, and a few dukes and duchesses.
Unfortunately, you had to shake hands with the unsightly woman from earlier—the one who'd dared to question your presence, comparing the ethereal beauty of someone such as yourself to a mere princess. She met your eyes with a forced smile, her grip a bit too firm, but you held your composure, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.
As you turned to greet another guest, you heard the woman mutter under her breath, "This farce won't last. A commoner can't hold a crown."
You stiffened, feeling a surge of anger. Katsuki's grip on your waist tightened. He was about to step forward until you untangled yourself from his grasp.
"Oh, my apologies, Miss Uraraka. Does my presence threaten you?"
The woman's eyes widened, and she quickly looked away. Katsuki scoffed and dragged you away from her. "Don't go throwing hands now, dollface."
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart racing at the nickname he just called you. "She had it coming," you muttered, but the tension in your body slowly eased as you felt Katsuki’s protective hold around you.
"Yeah, but she's not worth it," he replied, his voice low but fierce. "Don't let people like her get to you."
A commotion near the entrance drew your attention. The doors burst open, and a young man with striking green hair and intense jade eyes strode in, flanked by a tall, dual-colored-haired man with heterochromatic eyes.
"Second and Third Princes, Prince Izuku Midoriya and Prince Shoto Todoroki," a guard announced, his voice shaking with the unexpected arrival.
And wow, were they hot.
The male with glossy jade eyes had his eyes fixated on you, or rather, the tight grip that Katsuki had on your waist. He laughed, walking up to the both of you.
"Kacchan! Long time no see, huh?" he gave a dorkish grin and Katsuki groaned. "Shut the fuck up, damn nerd."
They seemed to be longtime friends because the other Prince, Prince Midoriya, only rolled his eyes mockingly. Katsuki only nodded to Prince Todoroki who returned the gesture politely.
Oh, so these must be the other two high-ranking Princes of Japan, huh? They looked so different from what Mina had explained. You would have thought Prince Todoroki to be ugly, considering the way she emphasized the scar around his eye.
But genuinely? You thought he looked cool with it.
And the other dude with the mop of messy green hair was astonishing. He looked at you and winked, causing you to go red. "Midoriya, leave the poor girl alone. She looks helpless," the voice belonged to the now smirking male with those piercing heterochromatic eyes.
You felt like putty when Katsuki laughed, the sound of it causing you to lean back into him more.
You gave a polite nod, trying to mask your embarrassment at the two more princes. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."
"The pleasure is ours," Midoriya replied, his smile warm. "I've heard a lot about you."
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.
"What's wrong, Kacchan? Is she shy?" Midoriya teased, earning a glare from Katsuki.
"Shut up, Deku," Katsuki growled, his grip on your waist tightening.
Todoroki stepped forward, a small smile on his face. "It's understandable. Tonight has been overwhelming."
Midoriya grinned and leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, Princess. We'll make sure you're comfortable here. If you ever need anything, just let me know." He winked at you, causing your blush to deepen.
Katsuki's scowl intensified. "Back off, nerd. She's with me." He snarled, and Midoriya laughed like that wasn't a threat to him. He and Todoroki exchanged a mischievous look.
Midoriya chuckled. "Relax, Kacchan. I'm just being friendly." He turned to you again, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But really, are your parents beavers?" he asks, tilting his head to one side.
"Uh... No?" you deadpanned, looking at a snickering Todoroki. What was that supposed to mean?
"'Cause dammmmmm!" he drags out. You chuckle a bit, and Katsuki screams at his friend, holding your waist tighter.
"Stop hitting on her. You're making the pomeranian angry."
"Ha! Like I'd be angry because of a damn Deku!" Katsuki pointed to himself and beamed.
"Snowflake, are you sure you want to be with someone like him? Come with me to the Todoroki Kingdom, I'll pamper you like a princess." He winked, playfully glaring at Bakugo.
The ash-blond male froze for a second. Would you really leave him for Todoroki?
You glanced at Katsuki, who seemed to be on the edge of snapping. "I think I’m quite happy here," you said softly, trying to diffuse the situation.
Midoriya’s grin widened. "Just remember, the offer stands." He winked again, causing the crimson-eyed male to growl lowly.
Without warning, Katsuki leaned down and kissed you, right there in front of everyone. Your eyes widened as a few tears brimmed them.
You heard a chorus of gasps from around the room. His kiss was fierce and possessive, making your mind swirl. You felt a rush of warmth at his protectiveness, even though you knew it was all part of the act.
Right?
When he finally pulled away, you were breathless and stunned. Katsuki’s eyes bore into yours, a mixture of determination and something else you couldn’t quite place. He turned to face Midoriya and Todoroki, who were both watching with varying degrees of surprise and amusement.
"Just making sure everyone knows," Katsuki said, his voice low and dangerous. "She’s with me."
You stood there, still trying to process what had just happened. The room was silent, all eyes on you and Katsuki. Finally, Midoriya broke the silence with a chuckle.
“Well, that certainly clears things up,” he said, grinning. “Congratulations, you two.” Todoroki raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his face. "You suit."
Katsuki huffed, pulling you closer. “Damn right. And don’t forget it.”
You nodded your head coyly and smiled up at them, watching as they bid Katsuki goodbye and slandered off to, as Todoroki called it, 'cause trouble'.
Katsuki let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"Idiots," he muttered under his breath before turning to you. "You okay?"
You nodded, finally finding your voice. "Yeah, I'm okay. They seem... nice."
Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Don't let Deku get to ya. I dunno what's gotten into him. Damn nerd." He felt like Midoriya had tried taking you away from him. He decided he didn't like that feeling and would speak to the jade-eyed womanizer in the morning.
Knowing them, they would spend the night.
You chuckled softly, the tension easing a bit. "What was that?" You asked, referring to the almost animalistic snarl he had released on Midoriya.
"Nothing. Just a habit from my teen years," he grumbled. You grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Mhm?"
"Yeah," he looked to the side and blushed a little, causing you to want to tease him. He was so adorable like this.
"Is it okay for a Prince to skip events?" you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.
"Maybe. What're ya suggesting?" he has you backed in a corner, one of his hands on the wall, at the side of your head and he was leaning in very close to you. Too close.
You could smell his cinnamon perfume and was that vanilla too? Or maybe you were just imagining it.
But a surge of confidence appeared out of nowhere, and before you knew it, you had grabbed his hand and darted off to a secluded place in the palace, away from the nobles and dignitaries, away from the guards and maids. You took him somewhere nobody would bother you, somewhere you had wanted to visit since you entered the castle. He'd never admit it, but that would turn out to be his favorite place.
The library.
You learned a lot that night. Katsuki was surprisingly easy to talk to. He told you about his past, his extremely feisty behavior, how he changed, and Japan's greatest war. You realized that's how he got his scar. He thought of himself as a monster. You placed a reassuring hand on his face and opened up to him, sharing your deepest secret.
He seemed astounded. You had faced so much, and yet here you were, comforting him. Your past seemed complicated, and he sort of wished he wasn't a prince. He hoped he could've been a commoner, like you, and grown up with you.
The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, gently waking you from a deep sleep. Ugh, was it morning already? You only closed your eyes for like... two minutes? You stretched languidly, a soft smile tugging at your lips as memories of the previous night with Katsuki flooded back. Your heart felt lighter than it had in a long time and your face heated up with a warm hue.
Just as you were about to get out of bed, the door burst open, and Mina barged in with her usual spirit. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she sang, practically bouncing into the room. "Up and at 'em! We've got a busy day ahead!"
You groaned playfully, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "Mina, it's too early for this kind of energy."
"Too early? It's never too early for exciting news!" she said, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously. She plopped down on the edge of your bed, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So, spill! What's going on between you and Prince Bakugo? You two are the talk of the town!"
You blinked, feeling a blend of embarrassment and nervousness. "The talk of the town? Really?"
"Yes, really!" Mina exclaimed, grabbing a hairbrush from your vanity and starting to brush your hair. "Everyone's talking about how you two disappeared from the event last night and weren't seen again until the wee hours of the morning. People are saying all sorts of things!"
You couldn't help but stare in bewilderment.
"I promise, it's not what they think!"
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