#drew this in algebra
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Got hooked on another ding dang Roblox game
I actually used to play Decaying winter like three times a week with a friend four years ago but my PC was old and stopped running the game properly so we had to quit :c
But I got a new one recently so I’m back on the grind!!
#i love him#i drew him all over my test yesterday#i probably failed it#im so bad at algebra bro#artists on tumblr#decaying winter#roblox#decaying winter oc
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
i just rediscovered my THK playlist and.. oogh…
its got a bit of a kick…
#oooofgghhhhh i need to draw them again#and probably redo the cover art too#i drew that on a sticky note in my algebra class junior year it desperately needs to be redone#but waugh.. ahh…#i think this is my favorite one i’ve made#hollow knight#music#stan’s forum#Spotify
16 notes
·
View notes
Text

also warm up from today :)
60 notes
·
View notes
Text

ignore how he didn't have a tail before i forgot to add one
#starlo my beloved#starlo uty#undertale yellow#undertale yellow starlo#i drew this in like 5 minutes during algebra bc i was bored of the assignment
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy μ Year!

It's just a WIP, but I probably won't finish it. Happy New Year!
#mew#pokemon#math help#mathematics#combining like terms#algebra#my art#I drew the mew#so I guess that counts as art?
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
happy holiday break, let’s talk class schedules

According to the Secrets of Auradon Prep tie-in book, AP runs on a rotating block schedule. Six periods per day, plus lunch. Pretty reasonable for a high school class schedule.
Homeroom once a week feels a little weird to me, but after an unofficial poll of some friends, it’s apparently not too uncommon for American high schools to only have it at the start of the week.
It’s sort of nice that the students get a study period every day, instead of having their free block/study block worked into the rotation with the rest of their classes.
In Mal’s Diary, we get another look at her schedule.

She’s in most of the same classes as the sample from before, but no chemistry class. Is Mal not interested in chemistry, or did Fairy Godmother decide it was more important for her to learn about evil fairies instead? Are there other “cultural history” type classes for other students, or did Fairy Godmother and whoever planned the class schedules for the other VKs just decide to pile on allll of the history/social studies classes for the VK to educate them in the ways of Auradon?
I think it’s funnier for me personally if Fairy Godmother received transcripts from Dragon Hall, looked at the VKs’ classes so far, and decided to say ‘fuck it’ on math and science classes, what these kids need is Auradon cultural education. Woodsmen, Fairies, Auradon History, and straight-up Goodness 101. One singular math class will take care of the rest, they’ll be fine.
#descendants#I don’t think that this is an especially balanced class schedule but I assume they’re playing catchup#with like#evil math and science classes#so they’re all set on those and it’s time for AURADON SOCIAL STUDIES#mathematics is a weird name for a high school class but maybe it’s a basic like assessment/general class??#usually it would be like#algebra#geometry#trig#I know Evie’s in chemistry#but are the boys in science classes?#in the version of these kids that lives in my heart they let Carlos take physics#purely because I think he would enjoy it#I’ll reblog this later with my own class schedules I drew up for these kids based on the state requirements I grew up with#in my heart AP has additional volunteer requirements too#due to being a fancy rich kid school#but based on this schedule it seems like the core requirements are uhh#extremely flexible
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
WAIT UR HANDLE HAS INSPIRED ME
STOPPP YOUR ART IS REALLY GOOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE /pos
#no but its funny because i drew them with eyeliner once during algebra and was like . oh .#and its my thing now thkhsj#it fits too well on them#noodle talks#not my art#these look great btw. the silly <3#ask
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
would- would you guys still love me if I posted shitty school doodles 🥺 /hj /lh
#this is not a rhetorical question please answer me#I genuinely don’t know if it’s a good idea to post crappy art I drew in Algebra :(
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
holds playrobot gentle like hamburger. you are so cutie pie coded. AAAAA
thank youu...
0 notes
Text
DOES ANYONE CARE ABOUT THIS HOLIDAY LIKE I DO??2??
Anywho happy Friday the 13th!! Woe. Wolverine Voorhees be upon you


#if you can see that I drew this (traditional one) on the back of an Algebra packet no you didn't#I kinda ate with the wolverine drawing ngl...#IT LOOKS BETTER IN PERSON I SWEAR#I'm never gonna get used to taking photos of my traditional art am I#because on one hand. I usually draw on line paper. but on the other the angle just always looks off😕#anywho tags cause I'm eepy#wolverine logan#x men wolverine#wolverine#wolverine fanart#logan howlett#logan wolverine#friday the 13th#friday the thirteenth#jason voorhees#jason friday the 13th#also that shirt is an actual shirt I wore today#guess who's the best...
0 notes
Text

#was ranting by doing some art but it turned into Japanese practice ig lol?#probably that's my first time posting my art here#I had an Instagram account but it's been 2 ish years since I posted anything there lol?#I drew it on the paper of my previous algebra mid#my name is kind of visible but it's okay since it's written in other language#I hope that no one will be able to see/translate it
1 note
·
View note
Text



The Invisible Girl
The hum of Gotham’s streets was a living thing, a pulse that never quite stopped. It was late—far past the hour when most respectable high school girls would be tucked away in bed, dreaming of prom or pop quizzes. But you? You were sixteen, a fleeting shadow in the city’s underbelly, your sneakers scuffing the asphalt as you leaned against the hood of a souped-up Mustang. The illegal car race was alive around you, engines roaring, neon lights flickering, and the crowd buzzing with adrenaline. You grinned, popping a piece of gum into your mouth, the sweet cherry flavor bursting against your tongue. This was your world. Not the stuffy manor you were supposed to call home.
You were the youngest Wayne, technically. A forgotten footnote in the sprawling saga of Bruce Wayne’s adopted brood. Older than you, Damian—your supposed “brother”—was the heir, the prodigy, the one who carried the weight of the Wayne legacy like it was a tailored suit. You? You were the accident. The kid they didn’t know what to do with. The one who came too late, after the family had already knit itself together in blood and trauma.
It wasn’t that they hated you. Hate would’ve required attention, and attention was the one thing the Batfamily didn’t spare. Bruce was a ghost in the manor, always buried in his mission. Dick was the golden boy, too busy charming the world. Jason was a storm, too volatile to notice anyone but himself. Tim was a machine, lost in his plans and contingencies. Cassandra saw everything but said nothing. And Damian? He barely acknowledged you existed, his sharp green eyes slicing through you like you were a smudge on his katana.
So, you drifted. School was a suggestion, not a rule. You slept through algebra, doodled in the margins of your textbooks, and skipped classes when the mood struck. The school couldn’t touch you—Wayne money made sure of that, and no one was picking up the phone when the principal called. You were free, in a way. Free to wander Gotham’s streets, to lose yourself in the chaos of the races, to be the girl no one expected anything from.
Tonight, the air was electric. Your car—a sleek, cherry-red beast you’d “borrowed” from one of Bruce’s many garages—sat waiting at the starting line. You adjusted your cap, tugging it low over your eyes, and slid into the driver’s seat. The leather was cool against your skin, the steering wheel familiar under your fingers. You weren’t here to win. You were here to feel alive.
“Hey, kid!” a voice called from the sidelines. It was Jax, one of the regulars, a lanky guy with a crooked grin and a penchant for bad bets. ��You sure you’re up for this? Rico’s got a new rig, and he’s out for blood.”
You smirked, blowing a bubble with your gum. “Rico can kiss my exhaust.”
The crowd laughed, and you revved the engine, letting the sound drown out everything else. The race was a blur—tires screeching, lights streaking, your heart hammering as you weaved through the pack. You didn’t care about the finish line. You cared about the rush, the way it made you forget the empty manor, the cold silences, the family that didn’t see you.
When it was over, you pulled over, breathless, your cheeks flushed. You’d placed third—good enough to keep your rep, not so good it drew too much attention. You climbed out, high-fiving Jax and ignoring the way some of the older guys eyed you. You were a kid in their world, a cute anomaly, but you were theirs. The racers, the drifters, the nobodies—they were your family, not the caped crusaders back home.
You were halfway through a soda, laughing at one of Jax’s dumb jokes, when your phone buzzed. You glanced at it, expecting a text from one of your friends. Instead, it was a notification from the manor’s security system. *Front gate opened. 11:47 PM.*
Weird. Bruce was supposed to be on patrol, and the others were either out or holed up in their rooms. You shrugged it off, pocketing the phone. Probably Alfred letting the cat out or something.
You didn’t know it yet, but you’d just made a mistake. You weren’t as invisible as you thought.
☆☆☆☆
Back at Wayne Manor, the Batcave was a hum of activity. The massive screens glowed, casting sharp shadows across the cavernous space. Tim was hunched over the computer, his fingers flying across the keys. Dick leaned against the console, arms crossed, his usual easy smile replaced by a tight frown. Jason was cleaning a gun, his movements sharp and deliberate, while Cassandra watched from the shadows, her eyes unreadable. Damian stood apart, his arms stiff at his sides, his expression a mix of irritation and something darker.
Bruce stood at the center, his cowl pushed back, his face a mask of controlled fury.
“She’s not in her room,” Tim said, not looking up. “Tracker in her phone puts her at the docks. Again.”
“Illegal races,” Dick muttered, shaking his head. “She’s been sneaking out for months. How did we not notice?”
“Because she’s good,” Cassandra said softly, her voice cutting through the tension. “She doesn’t want to be seen.”
Jason snorted, slamming the gun down. “Or because we’re too busy playing hero to give a damn about the kid living under our roof.”
“Enough,” Bruce snapped, his voice low but commanding. “This ends tonight. She’s sixteen. She’s putting herself in danger, and we’ve let it go on too long.”
Damian’s lip curled. “She’s a liability. If she’s caught, it could expose us all.”
Dick shot him a look. “She’s your sister, Damian.”
“She’s nothing,” Damian retorted, but there was a flicker in his eyes—something that betrayed the lie.
Bruce didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the screen. It showed a grainy feed from a street camera, your figure unmistakable as you laughed with a group of racers. You looked happy, alive, in a way you never did at home. It twisted something in his chest, but he buried it. This wasn’t about feelings. This was about control.
“Tim, pull up her route. Dick, Jason, you’re with me. We bring her home. Now.”
Cassandra tilted her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’ll run.”
Bruce’s jaw tightened. “Then we make sure she has nowhere to go.”
☆☆☆☆
You were halfway through another race, the city a blur outside your window, when you noticed the shadow. It was subtle—a flicker in your rearview mirror, gone as soon as it appeared. But you knew better. Gotham wasn’t just a city; it was a predator, and you’d learned to sense its teeth.
You floored the gas, weaving through traffic, your heart pounding. The shadow moved with you, relentless, a black shape that could only belong to one thing. Or one family.
“Crap,” you muttered, your gum losing its flavor. You didn’t know how they’d found you, but you knew what it meant. The Batfamily didn’t chase unless they wanted something. And if they wanted you? That was bad news.
You took a sharp turn, tires screeching, and gunned it toward the old warehouse district. You knew the alleys, the shortcuts, the places where even Batman’s tech would struggle to follow. You were good at disappearing. It was what you did best.
But as you rounded a corner, a figure dropped from the rooftops, landing in the middle of the street. Nightwing. His escrima sticks glowed faintly, and his smile was gone, replaced by something hard, something that made your stomach twist.
You slammed on the brakes, your car fishtailing to a stop. Before you could react, another figure appeared—Red Hood, his guns holstered but his presence no less threatening. And then, from the shadows, Batman himself.
You were surrounded.
Your grip tightened on the wheel, your mind racing. You could run—crash through a barrier, lose them in the maze of Gotham’s slums. But something in Bruce’s eyes stopped you. It wasn’t anger, not exactly. It was something colder, something that made you feel like a mouse staring down a hawk.
“Get out of the car,” Bruce said, his voice cutting through the night.
You popped your gum, forcing a grin. “What’s up, Dad? Miss me?”
His eyes narrowed, and you knew you’d pushed too far. This wasn’t a game anymore. This was the beginning of something much darker, something you couldn’t outrun.
Not this time.
☆☆☆☆
Gotham’s night air was heavy and humid, as if the city itself was closing in on you. Inside the car, you still gripped the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles whitening against the leather. Bruce’s silhouette stood like a monolith in the middle of the street, motionless except for the faint ripple of his cape. Dick was on his right, Jason on his left, each positioned like a trap. There was no escape. At least, it seemed that way.
You popped your gum again, just to steady your nerves. “Alright,” you said, your voice trembling with forced cheer. “Family reunion, huh? Bit late for that, don’t you think, Dad?”
Bruce’s face was stone, but something flickered in his eyes—anger, guilt, or something else, you couldn’t tell. “The games are over,” he said, his voice sharp as a blade. “Get out of the car. Now.”
You considered opening the door, but instead sank deeper into the seat. “What if I don’t?” you said, raising your eyebrows. “What’re you gonna do? Run me over with the Batmobile?”
Jason took a step forward, a mocking growl rising from under his helmet. “Kid, you can’t win this game. It’ll be easier—for you and for us—if you get out now.”
Dick tilted his head, flashing that familiar big-brother smile, but this time his eyes weren’t warm. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft but laced with threat. “You don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be, do you?”
A shiver ran through you. You’d never heard Dick use that tone before—not with you. They’d always ignored you, hadn’t they? You were a ghost, drifting through the manor’s halls, your presence barely registering. So why were they here now? Why had they suddenly *noticed* you?
You didn’t want to know the answer.
But your options were running out. Your eyes scanned the surroundings—the narrow street, abandoned warehouses, the flickering light of a few streetlamps. You could run. Maybe. Your car was fast, but Batman’s tech was faster. And these three? They weren’t human, not in the way you understood it. They were hunters. And you were the prey.
You took a deep breath, reached for the door handle, and slowly pushed it open. The cold air rushed in, prickling your skin. You stood, shoving your hands into your jean pockets, feigning nonchalance. “Fine,” you said, shrugging. “What do you want? Did you watch my race? What’s my score?”
Bruce stepped closer, his shadow swallowing you. “This isn’t a game,” he said. “We know what you’ve been doing. Where you’ve been, who you’ve been with. You’re coming home tonight, and this… nonsense stops.”
Your eyes widened, and then you laughed. A real, uncontrollable laugh. “Nonsense? Wow, Bruce, you’ve shown me more attention in the last ten minutes than you have my entire life. What’s the deal? Run out of criminals in Gotham?”
Jason grunted, but Dick raised a hand to silence him. “Listen,” Dick said, his voice still carrying that false calm. “We know we haven’t been… around much. But that’s going to change. You’re our family. We need to protect you.”
“Protect me?” The word tasted like poison. “You’re here to protect me? Where were you for the last sixteen years, huh? When I was a baby? At my first race? When I got kicked out of school? Oh, wait, you were busy chasing bank robbers, right?”
The air grew heavy, the silence hitting like a fist. Bruce’s jaw clenched, Dick’s smile faded, and even Jason seemed uneasy behind his helmet. You’d struck a nerve. But the victory felt hollow.
“Not anymore,” Bruce said, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. “From now on, we’re watching you.”
In that moment, you felt something was wrong. This wasn’t just a family drama. This was a move to pull you back—to what? The manor? Their control? Or worse, their world?
“I’m going home,” you said, stepping back. “But not with you. I’ll find my own way.”
You turned toward your car, but Jason was faster. In an instant, he grabbed your arm, his grip like iron. “Wrong answer, kid,” he said, his voice mocking but dangerous. “You’re coming with us tonight.”
“Jason, let go!” you shouted, yanking at your arm, but he didn’t budge. Panic surged, your heart thrashing in your chest. Dick stepped toward you, hands raised as if to calm you, but you saw *that* look in his eyes—the look of a predator.
“Easy,” Dick said. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just… need to talk.”
Bruce remained silent, but his presence said everything. This wasn’t a negotiation. This was an order.
In that moment, you realized you’d made a mistake. Even if you tried to run, they’d find you. Gotham was their city. And no matter how fast you ran, you couldn’t outrun their shadows.
☆☆☆☆
The manor was cold and silent, as always. Alfred had greeted you at the door, his usual polite demeanor in place, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. He escorted you to your room, but you heard the click of the lock after he left. A lock. As if you were a prisoner.
Your room felt like it didn’t belong to you. No posters on the walls, no personal items on the shelves. It was like a hotel room—beautiful, but soulless. You sat on the bed, pulling your knees to your chest, your mind still racing.
What were they planning? Why now? After years of ignoring you, why did they suddenly *want* you? The answer scared you, because deep down, you knew—this wasn’t about love. It was about control. And once the Batfamily took control, they never let go.
A shadow moved outside your door. Your eyes snapped to it, your heart speeding up. Someone was watching you. Damian? Cassandra? Or maybe Tim, with one of his cameras already planted in your room? Were you paranoid, or were you right?
You reached for your phone, but the screen was dark. Dead. Or… disabled. Of course. Tim’s work, no doubt. They wanted to isolate you. Cut you off from the outside world.
You glanced at the window. Gotham’s lights glimmered outside, freedom so close yet so far. You could jump. You could run. But where to? They’d find you. They always would.
But giving up wasn’t your style. You were a racer. And racers, no matter how impossible it seemed, always found a way out.
☆☆☆☆
#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batfam x reader#bruce wayne x reader#damian wayne x reader#yandere x reader#dc x reader#the neglected reader#batfamily x neglected reader#batfam x neglected reader#neglected reader#jason todd x reader#bruce wayne x you#jason todd x fem reader#yandere damian wayne x reader#yandere jason todd x reader#yandere bruce wayne x reader#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x female!reader#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake x reader#tim drake x reader#cassandra cain x yn#cassandra cain x reader#stephanie brown x reader#batfam x you#batfamily x batsis!reader#batfamily x yn#oc x reader
891 notes
·
View notes
Text
I feel so strongly about poorly written riordanverse characters, and Drew might be of the top 3.
Drew's introduction isn't just hers, it's also an establishing part of Piper's character, and it does such a bad job at being both of those things. Drew could've been mean and rude with there being no issue, but her being those things was inherently tied to her being pretty and stereotypically girlie. And because Drew was so "girly=bad," Piper came off as very "not like other girls." Piper wasn't not like Drew because she didn't embrace love, she wasn't like Drew because she barely did her hair and didn't wear makeup or dresses.
It's really unfortunate because I think Drew sets up a few interesting discussions of Camp Half Blood, one being inner cabin conflict. Because the first series is told through Percy's eyes and there's rarely anybody else in his cabin, we don't see many demigod sibling interactions. Then, we have Jason, who also never lives with anybody in the cabin, and Annabeth never has a POV at Camp. What does happen when demigod siblings fight? How frequently does it happen?
Idk I have a lot of thoughts about her, she deserved a lot better.
Was she a bad character because she was a bad person? Or was she a teenage girl written by a man?
#pjo hoo toa#hoo#drew tanaka#riordanverse#stopping myself before i write an essay on why drew tanaka couldve been the perfect representation of CHBs flaws#i like talking about the aspects of camp that suck#it has to be like 10x worse than the main characters let on#bitches be all “camp jupiter is this camp jupiter is that”#are the greeks LEARNING??#who is teaching the year rounders math#tf do you mean clarisse is headed to college i know that girl cant do algebra#drew is a fanfiction writers greatest gift they just dont know it
93 notes
·
View notes
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
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
#spencer reid fanfiction#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#virgin spencer reid#criminal minds fluff#fluff#angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#wedding#one bed trope
631 notes
·
View notes
Text
Too Sweet - Jschlatt part 1
baseball coach Schlatt x math teacher reader

Reader is a math teacher who finds her computer science teacher coworker an asshole. Schlatt finds his algebra/geometry coworker very annoying. What happens when they are forced to be around each other and get along?
You knew you wanted to be a teacher from a very young age. At first you thought you wanted to teach at the elementary level, but you found a love for math. After graduating with a math degree, you accepted a job at a high school in New York. Although you wanted to teach AP Statistics and Calculus, you got a job as the general algebra and geometry. This means that the majority of your classes are full of athletes and kids who do not care about their education.
You watch as a group of baseball boys walk into the classroom. “Josh, Drew, Sawyer did you do your homework?” You ask the boys.
Sawyer grabs a crumpled piece of paper out of his backpack and hands it to you. The other two boys look at you in shock. “We had an away game last night. We weren’t able to complete it,” Drew finally says.
“How did Sawyer get his done, but you two did not?” You ask the boys with a look of disbelief.
“I did mine on the bus.”
“Coach Schlatt told us not to worry about it as focusing on the game is the most important,” Josh tells you.
“I guess I’ll be having a conversation with Coach Schlatt later. Go take a seat, we are learning a new concept,” you tell the boys. You turn around to take a deep breath. Of course, Coach Schlatt, the baseball coach and computer science teacher would tell his players to not do your homework. You both have had an issue with each other since you started working here. All Schlatt cares about is baseball and his players being the best. Which sometimes means that he doesn’t expect them to do your assignments or if they fall asleep in class. He claims that they probably needed the sleep.
At the end of class, you decide to pay Coach Schlatt a visit during your prep time. As you both worked in the math and computer department, you had the same prep period. You knock on his open door and he looks up from his phone. “Ms. (Y/L/N), can I help you?” He asks you.
“Yes I needed to speak with you about a few of your players,” you tell him, walking up to his desk.
“What did they do this time?”
“Well Drew and Josh did not do their homework. Sawyer completed him, but the other two didn’t. They claimed that they weren’t able to because you had a game last night and also you told them it didn’t matter.”
He sighs and looks directly at you. “I told them to focus on the game. But have you read the research that shows that homework isn’t an effective way of teaching?”
You narrow your eyes at him, slightly. “Yes, I have. The only reason they had homework is because they felt my class time was time to play around.”
He nods a bit. “I’ll talk to them. Though you may need to work on your classroom management and also I’m sure they needed your help.”
“Thank you for your time. I’ll leave you alone.” You turn around to walk back to your classroom. “What an asshole,” you mutter under your breath.
You go back to your class to get some work done, hopefully working off your stress. How could someone be so bluntly rude? Did he really insult your teaching and your classroom management? You felt that you did your job well. Your admin seems to think so, but maybe you aren’t.
At lunchtime, you walk into your best friend’s classroom in the fine arts building. Ted or Mr. Nivision is the drama teacher and the two of you quickly became kids. As you have the same lunch period, you eat together every day. You grab your premade lunch from the mini fridge in his room. After you grab it, you slam the door. “Woah what’s wrong with you?”
You put your lunch in the microwave and slam that door too. “Coach Schlatt is what’s wrong! He’s such a douchebag.”
“What did he do this time?” Ted asks, eating his salad.
“He told his players that my homework was not important. When I went to talk to him about it, he brought up research about how homework is unnecessary. Obviously I know that. They only have homework because they refused to do it in my class. I told him that and he insulted my teaching and my classroom management,” you vent to him.
“I’m so glad I don’t teach a core content class. I think I would choke a kid out.” You laugh slightly at him. “That’s stupid of him. He’s usually a pretty good guy, but that was just uncalled for.”
You grab your lunch from the microwave and take a seat beside Ted. “I know he’s your friend or whatever, but he’s an asshole. I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much.”
Before Ted can say anything, you hear footsteps walking into his room. You look up to see Schlatt walking in. You turn to look at Ted in disbelief. “Oh yeah (Y/N), I forgot to tell you that Schlatt is going to start joining us for lunch.”
“Awesome,” you mutter with a forced smile. “Glad that you are joining us,” are the words that came out. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and choke on his lunch. However, you decide to stay civil and give him your best smile. Hopefully Coach Schlatt will do the same.
A/N: new series!! I am so excited to write some enemies to lovers and teacherxteacher ! I hope you guys enjoy it!! Let me know what you think!!
Masterlist
#jschlatt#jschlatt x reader#chuckle sandwich#jschlatt fanfic#youtube#grumpy sunshine#enemies to lovers
158 notes
·
View notes
Text

OVERWHELMED: GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU
Fluff, satosugu x reader, reader is called mom, papa satoru, dad suguru
You were overwhelmed.
The warm steam from the pot below you wafted up to your face, the obnoxious low rumble of the range hood sucking up the air as to not let your smoke alarm go off, yet again. The curry bubbled and you stirred the mixture of carrots and potatoes, leisurely. "Mom," it was a troubled call, you turned, facing the long haired child perched in a chair at the table behind you, her brown eyes glassy as she stared at the textbook in front of her.
You were quick to lower the heat, tapping the wooden spoon on the edge of the pot before settling it down on the handles, placing the glass lid atop the stainless steel before shuffling over to her, fluffy socks adorned with a strawberry pattern, given to you as a little surprise from an ordinary grocery run, protecting your feet from the cool tile. "Tsumiki honey, what's wrong," you coo, taking a seat in the chair next to her, the girl's lips pouted in frustration as she pinched her brows.
"I dunno how to do this," she points, pencil led prodding at the textbook pages scrawled in graphite, loitered with jokes and absurd comments that your dear girl would never do, knowing that this, probably twelfth generation textbook's drawings, were presents from students past. It was a math question, simple algebra that she was only introduced to yesterday in class, and your ever keen student was quick to do her homework on Saturday as to not stress out tomorrow, as her Papa promised to take them all out on a fun day trip.
"Let me take a look," you murmur gently, offering a smile to try and quell her irritation as you stared at the notebook pages, neat handwriting full of numbers interrupted as she tried to answer question 6c, smudges of pencil rubbed away by eraser staining the paper and you reevaluate the problem, carefully repeating it onto the sheet. "This one is quite tough," you nod, hoping to show that her struggle was valid, "but basically you have to-" you start, ready to walk her through the steps to find an answer when yet another call drew your attention away.
"Mom!" this time it was a wail.
"Just a second baby," you pat the girl's hair, "I'll be right back," you promise, getting up from the cushioned seat to step towards the living room, crying children hidden behind the couch, as the open concept layout usually allowed you to see all your kids at once.
You spot the two twins, eyes glassy as Mimiko held a doll tight in her grasp, body shifted away from her sister as Nanako crossed her pudgy arms over her chest, tearful glare directed towards the former.
"What's wrong," you murmur, sore muscles slightly protesting as you pulled into a crouch assessing the situation. Your usually two well behaved girls who generally got along with one another were fighting for the nth time today. They were having a rough time, both irritated, grumpy and getting on each other's nerves consistently on this somber Saturday
"Mimiko won't share," Nanako cries, rubbing harshly at her puffy cheeks as salt rivers stain her face, falling in large droplets. You are quick to tenderly grasp her hands, careful touches wiping away the dew. You turn to face Mimiko, knuckles turning pale with the death drip she had on the pink haired doll.
"You two have loads of dolls though," you try to reason, plucking up a different toy, presenting it to the red faced girl.
"But I want that one," she sobs, hiccupping and you tried not to sigh too loud.
"Mimiko," you call, the child pursing her lips as she turned her body away in defiance.
"I want a turn," she huffs when you don't retract your scolding gaze, "Nanako's been playin all day wif her," she shakes the pink haired toy, glittery strands catching light and you don't know what to do. Nanako was crying because Mimiko had stolen the toy, and you knew the girl had been politely asking all day just to be denied.
It wasn't right that she took it, you know that, but it also wasn't right that Nanako hasn't been sharing. You didn't want to just take the doll away completely, even if a nagging voice said that a mere threat wouldn't hurt, but the high percentage that it'd leave both girls' crying already gave you a headache.
They were just tired. Bad dreams plaguing them last night, preventing them from sleep, they needed a nap but wouldn't settle down for one, not even after being cradled and read to. No matter how many picture books you pulled out, or if you just tucked them into their beds, neither agreed to your plan and now it was too late, settling for a nap now would only result in the inability to rest when it was actually bed time.
You bit your lip, their lack of sleep also resulting in your lack of sleep, achy limbs tired as you shut your heavy fatigue ridden eye lids as bawling tears continued to drip, "Nana-" you were about to start only to be interrupted yet again.
"Mom," it was raspy this time and you heed the call, facing a sleepy Megumi, his face florid as sweat beaded on his forehead, duvet you wrapped him in trailing along the hardwood floors as he pulled it onto his shoulders. His spiky hair was slightly matted, eyes a little red, nose running.
"Megumi" you coo, your sick boy padding to walk into your arms, falling into your embrace eagerly as he nuzzled into your neck, his cold nose making you slightly cringe as he burned up in your grasp, fever overheating his tiny figure.
"m'sorry," he begins and you don't want to question what happened as you wrapped the blanket tighter around his little form, "I missed the bucket," he confessed, his fingers timidly grabbing at your sleeve, toying with the fabric and you knew what he meant, the little stomach bug beating up his organs had made you gift him a plastic container for all his vomit. "I didn't mean too," his voice wavers, you could feel your shirt begin to grow damp but all you could do was hold him tighter.
"It's okay," you try to keep the irritation ebbing away at you from your tone.
"Mom."
"Mom."
"Mom."
"Mom."
They all needed you, tears falling down fast as different anxieties permeated your house, home full of grief as they each battled with different problems. Tsumiki struggling with her homework, Mimiko and Nanako bickering yet again over something trivial but huge in their little world, while Megumi tried to fight off a sickness but was currently losing, and you trying to grapple every thing, your sanity quickly slipping as their sadness poured into you, the tired little smiles you kept up slowly fading away as you could feel your own anxieties claw up your throat.
All your children were crying, frustrated wails, and you were barely keeping it together, clutching your son tightly as you tried not to fall into a pit of tears yourself.
You were overwhelmed.
Overloaded with tasks and duties, you had to help Tsumiki finish her school work, settle this doll dilemma, clean up the little mess Megumi made and still finish up dinner. Your list was all consuming, trying to drown you as your house shook, trembled.
Your family was having a rough day.
Everyone was troubled and you-
You couldn't do it all.
You barely registered it, chaos consuming your leaden muscles as you did your best to organize your frantic thoughts, but when a gentle hand is placed on your shoulder the tension in your chest, weighing down on you eased. "Let us handle it from here love," a sweet murmur, his dark hair was messy, result of a tough day at work but he was quick to roll up his sleeves, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, soothing your berating mind and you could only nod, brain refusing to process an argument as he turned to the two twins.
"C'mere Megumi," your white haired counterpart now next to you, reaching out for the duvet coddled boy who merely nuzzled further into your grasp at the call and you can't help but keep him close, quicksand sinking limbs finding their way to cuddle him even further.
"It's okay Toru," your voice is laced with a slow molasses, tired dribbles as you mumble, blinking your stinging eyes, retreating tears falling back from your waterline, "can you just," and you bite your tongue, feeling a strange quiver form in your throat as an inexplicable lump formed, but he's cupping your face, squishing the fat of your cheek with his easy going toothy grin, pink lips parting to let an ever loving smile shine affectionately at your drained visage.
"Can do!" and he's popping to his feet, knowing your sentence without your words, upbeat aura exterminating the lingering gloom that held heavy in a foggy cloud from the ceiling. His call of Tsumiki's name is kind before he's taking the seat next to her, getting to work and slowly your growing checklist of tasks melted, shredding into tiny little strips as they rips apart the paper, taking a chunk to handle by themselves.
Your knees audibly crack as you stand, his warm cheek in the cove of your neck as he put up no fight to slump in your hold. "Let's get you a bath, yeah Gumi," you hum, body gently rocking as you pad down the hallway and towards the bathroom, light flickering on with a warm glow to paint the white tiles.
"M'sorry," he's murmuring again as you set him down, guilt ridden eyes swathed with remorse as you slowly began to fill the tub, squirting out some of the soap from a half-empty bottle of bubble bath, watching as white foam slowly floated to the surface, "I-I'll do better," he sniffles.
"You don't need to be sorry baby," you brush the strands of hair sticking to his forehead away, heat emanating from the slick sweat of his skin, dampening your fingertips as you gingerly peel the blanket off his body, pang of pity hitting your heart as he shuddered, "you didn't do it on purpose," you hum, "and all you need to do for me is drink lots of water, get tons of rest and get back to your strong and healthy self, okay my Gumi bear," you smile, watching the boy cringe at your little nickname.
"Don't call me that," he whines, voice nasally as you help him take off his clothes before settling him inside the water filled tub.
"Why not," you tease, turning off the tap but he could only puff out his chest, no reason coming to mind as he submerged his body into the water, steam slowly relieving his congested pathways.
"I- It's embarrassing," he tries and you coo with a sly little smile.
"Are you embarrassed of me," you purse your lips in faux pain.
"That's not what I said," he rasps out, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumps his back against the porcelain, defeated.
"Mhm I see how it is," you sigh dramatically, snickering at his pout before you lean to boop his nose. "Will you be okay on your own," you ask the boy, observing as he picked up a cloud of soap and squashed it between his palms.
"Mhm," he nodded and you grin, giving him an affectionate rustle of the hair before grabbing the slightly soiled clothing, lingering smell of vomit and sweat clinging to the fabric of his pajamas as you stepped outside the bathroom, leaving the door open just a smidge as you padded towards Megumi's bedroom, the door wide open, readying yourself to untuck his bedsheets only to find his mattress already bare.
"It's in the wash," he murmured against the shell of your ear and you lean into his warmth, resting your head on Suguru's lowered shoulder, "do you need me to take that too," and his hands are quick to take the clothing from your grasp.
You simply shut your eyes for a moment, listening to his breathing, "thank you," you hum out when you blink open, whirling around on your toes to face him.
"It's no problem baby," and he's pressing yet another calming kiss to your forehead, easing the worries that had begun to clamber up your chest, "you should go take a break, I can finish giving Megumi a bath," he murmurs against your skin but you shake your head as he pulls away.
"No, I can do it," you affirmed, the worried look in his gaze doing little to force your hand, "I want to do it," you reiterated and his shoulder's slumped as he acquiesced, letting you have your way yet again.
"If you say so," he's sighing, "but let me know if you need anything, alright, you've already done a lot today, don't push yourself pretty," and he's kissing your cheek this time, flashing you an understanding smile but you are quick to peck at grinning lips, withdrawing much too early for his liking.
"I won't," you reassure, patting his arm, urging him to go and he chuckles, retreating back to the laundry room as you go to grab another set of pajamas for Megumi to wear.
Your heart felt a little lighter, the happy sounds of an understanding Tsumuki echoing down the hallway before she was sharing a high-five with Satoru, a resounding, elating smack reverberating as you take a small peek down the hall, her once pinched brows no longer furrowed with stress as your white haired partner thoroughly explained the topic in a way she could understand, patiently answering all her questions and kindly nudging her along the right path whenever she made a mistake. The sight had you smiling, there were no tears, no yelling, the image much unlike your childhood, her ability to even ask for help showing you that you must be doing something right, after all you didn't want her to face the same struggle you had when it came for asking your parents for any kind of assistance.
Turning back to the bathroom you nudge the door ajar with your hip, spotting your little spiky haired boy with a rubber duck in his hand, pushing it along the water and he's quick to stare at you, meeting your gaze as you plop the fresh clothing onto the counter. "Mom," he calls and the word no longer burdened you with such despair as it had moments ago, of course you loved your title, the very words being attached to you giving you an indescribably joy as your little found family discovered comfort in you as a mother figure, but you couldn't deny that a few moments ago the very call of that label had you broiling with stress.
"Yes love," you hum, quick to pull the stool over, sitting near the edge as Megumi glanced up at you, bubbles staining his fingertips.
"Will Papa still take me on the trip tomorrow," he sniffles, dry eyes blinking up at you with worry.
"Of course he will Gumi," you reach a hand out, petting his hair before cupping his warm face between your palms.
"W-What happens if I don't feel good tomorrow too," he whimpers, eyes going glassy as his lips pull into a pout and you could feel a little tremor shake your heart, small fracture nicking away at it as you pressed a tender kiss to his scalp.
"Then we'll reschedule it baby, okay," you murmur, staring into his heartbroken gaze, "it'll be alright."
"But I don't wanna ruin it," he mumbles so quietly, guilt ebbing away.
"Honey you won't ruin anything," you assure, "no one is leaving you behind, and no one will be sad if we can't go tomorrow, besides it wouldn't be fun if you weren't there."
"Promise."
"I promise my love," and you interlock your pinky with his, rubbing away a stray tear that managed to fall, "now how about we get you dressed and back to bed," you offer, a gentle smile accompanying your words and he grins, nodding.
You were quick, drying the boy before pulling the dog themed shirt on his head, helping his arms through the fabric before tugging it down. "Cozy," you muse, fingers lightly tying the drawstrings of his fuzzy pants.
"Mhm," he hums, fast to find solace in your embrace as you carefully adjust him to settle on your hip, standing up. You survey the bathroom, empty tub still slightly foamy along the edges, drain covered in bubbles that you didn't focus on, preoccupied with dressing the sickly boy, the blanket he had dragged around, abandoned on the floor, crumpled in a corner, the floor slightly imprinted with wet footsteps.
You purse your lips, rubbing small circles onto his back as his face burrowed into the crook of your neck, dark hair tickling the skin but you pay no mind, occupied with your disinterest on cleaning the space, you had left a slight mess.
Shutting your eyes you sighed, maybe you could just pretend it wasn't there for a moment, you tried to offer yourself, turning to head towards Megumi's bedroom only to spot that his bed was still bare and you were soon painfully aware that both pairs of bedsheets you had used for his bed were now soiled and in the wash, the first set vomited upon in the morning when he had felt the brunt of his ailment clawing at his stomach.
You could feel irritation clamber up your limbs, leaving an unsettling itch in your bones as you push your weight onto your toes before rocking back onto your heels, uncertainty bubbling beneath your skin as your frazzled brain wracked for a solution. "He can sleep in our room for a little while," and the bubbles faded into nothing, heat of the element reduced to zero in an instant as your unsettled waters no longer even simmered.
His hand is on Megumi's forehead, checking the little boy's temperature while the other lay relaxed on your hip, leaving an assuring squeeze, "do you want me to take you Megs," Satoru offers, knowing full well he'd be denied, and rejected he was, the boy merely clinging to you tighter with a pout.
"It's fine Toru," you hum, his hands slightly fixing your hair before pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck.
"Alrighty then," he snickers, and you barely have to turn your head to know he and Megumi were sticking their tongues out at each other, "I'll go clean up the washroom then," and he shifts his focus to you.
"No that's alright, you should go rela-"
"I should be saying that to you pretty," he quirks a grin, cutting you off, "now go on," and he's shooing you away, hands on your shoulders before lightly ushering you out, "let me work," he tsks, opening the door, letting you walk into your shared bedroom before quickly scampering off with a cartoony whistled song.
You can't fight off your smile before shuffling towards the messily made bed, the rumple of sheets a painful reminder of your inability to focus this morning, waking up to sobs, the idea of making the bed no longer at the forefront of your brain, and it still wasn't. You collapse onto the mattress, lightly tackling Megumi beneath your body.
"Get off me," he giggles, squirming, fists pushing at your shoulders.
"What, you don't want my love," you gasp dramatically, peppering kisses over his face until he's shoving you away, hoarse voice laughing as he wriggles, crawling towards the head of the bed but you grab his ankle, "don't make me fight you," you tease, pulling him back, his happy little shriek of, 'let me go,' making you grin before you lift him into your arms, wrapping around him tight before squeezing him, planting one last firm peck to his cheek, his happy face lessening all your lingering unease before pulling the both of you beneath the covers.
"You're silly mom," he's snickering.
"Oh really," you laugh, resting his head upon the pillow, laying on your side as he puts his hand onto your face, pudgy fingers squeezing at your cheek, contorting your facial expressions, "I think you're pretty silly," you muse, reaching out to smush his face, his lips puckering as you forced him to look like a fish.
"Nuh uh," he huffs pulling away from your grasp before using both his hands to try and force your face the same way, and he's giggling.
"Nuh uh," you mock, "what do you mean nuh uh," you tease lightly tickling at his sides.
"Nuh uh," he shrieks again, squirming before burrowing into your embrace, putting an end to your attack as he cuddled close and you couldn't help but reciprocate. "Mom," he's calling again.
"Yes," you coo, running your fingers through his hair.
"Can we go see a T-rex."
"Hmm," you raise a brow, "where'd that come from," you ask, slightly perturbed by his out of the blue question.
"Yuji told me at school that his papa took him to see T-rex bones."
"Oh, is that so," you coo, rhythmically patting his back, "we can go to the museum and see dinosaurs together when you're all better."
"With Tsumiki and Mimiko and Nanako."
"Of course, we'll take Tsumiki, Mimiko, Nanako, Dad and Papa," you grin, "so make sure to get lots of sleep and drink lots of water, okay."
"Okay," he's murmuring and despite his prior burst of energy his eyes were closing.
"Goodnight," your kiss his scalp, gently rocking his body and even though he drifted off you continued to lay there, weary limbs finally relaxing.
"Wake up love," you don't even remember falling asleep.
You blink your eyes open, "You need to eat."
"Hmm," you groan as you stirred, staring at both their figures and you suddenly realize your arm's no longer hold the weight of a child, "where'd Megumi go."
"Asleep in his own room," Suguru coos, helping you sit up, thumb running over the apple of your cheek.
"What time is it," you ask eyes trying to adjust to the bright light of the digital clock on the bedside table.
"9:30ish," Satoru grins, taking a seat next to you, "the kids are already in bed."
"Why didn't you wake me up," you yawn, leaning your weight onto Satoru, "I could've helped."
"You've already done so much today," Suguru sighs and you hum into his touch, "wanted to let you rest."
"M'sorry," you murmur, suddenly feeling ashamed.
"Why are you apologizing love, we are the ones who should say sorry," and Suguru is settling down onto your other side.
"We left you home alone to take care of all of them, it must've been tiring," Satoru is holding your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles.
"You had to go to work, it's fine."
"Regardless," Suguru tacks on, "but you did a good job today," he praises and you find yourself melting, lip wobbling.
"No I didn't," and a surge of sadness washes over you, your emotions taking over, "y-you came home and everyone was crying, I was going to cry too, and, and I didn't know what to do."
"That's okay my love," and Suguru is pulling you into his arms, "you did your best."
"But still."
"Baby it's hard looking after four kids by yourself, you did amazing, it was just a rough day," and Satoru is kissing your forehead, "we should've come home earlier but even without us you did great."
"I should've been able to handle it."
"You did handle it."
"I got overwhelmed."
"And that's okay," Suguru assures once more, "it's a lot of work and it's normal to feel that way, that's why we're here, okay baby, it's not your job to look after all of them on your own, we're a team, you can depend on us," he continues, soothing your anxieties, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.
"My pretty girl had a long day," Satoru coos, lightly pinching your cheek, cracking a coy smile, "let's go eat yeah, I'll warm dinner up again," he grins, reaching for you, carefully picking you up.
"I can walk," you protest, your arms snaking around his neck as he slid his arms beneath your bottom.
"And I can carry you," he sing songs, padding towards the door while Suguru quietly shushes him.
You were overwhelmed but Satoru and Suguru were quick to help you out.
#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#satosugu x reader#satosugu x y/n#satosugu x you#gojo x reader x geto#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#satoru x reader x suguru#jjk fluff
370 notes
·
View notes