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#taylor swift inspired
idksmtms · 2 days
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evermore series
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To all the swifties who enjoy my writing, this one is for you! I got this idea at 3am and I am now committed! I'm gonna write a one-shot for each song from the album (at least the ones I can think of) for a variety of characters! This will probably go a bit slowly because I'm writing another series at the same time but I got a bunch of inspo for some of these songs and this idea so I have to do this!
Below I have the track list and the characters:
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willow - Cillian Murphy
champagne problems - Aemond Targaryen Modern AU
gold rush - Kerry Von Erich
'tis the damn season - Aegon II Targaryen
tolerate it - Daemon Targaryen
no body no crime - Daemon Targaryen
happiness - David Von Erich
dorothea - Cillian Murphy
coney island - Kerry Von Erich
ivy - Kerry Von Erich
cowboy like me - David Von Erich
long story short - Cillian Murphy
marjorie - David Von Erich
closure - Uhtred Ragnarsson
evermore - David Von Erich
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cloudbride · 3 months
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Wildest dreams
pairing: charlesleclerc x famous!reader , pt2
reader is pierre gasly’s childhood friend , enjoy
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pierregasly : idk which was more exhausting, the hike or y/n taking a selfie every five minutes 🤣
yn13:@/pierregasly ITS FOR THE MEMORIES Pez ur gonna thank me 20 yrs later
user110: THE BESTIES ARE BACK 🚨🚨
lewishamilton : no tag ?🧍🏾
liked by author
userr77: miss u on the paddock yn come backk
chalresleclerc: @/pierregasly i thought hiking was our thing no?
Pierregasly: @/charlesleclerc i thought y/n invited you?
yn13:@/charlesleclerc i stole yo man 😘
liked by pierregasly
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article—>
The F1 world is in absolute chaos right now as romance rumours surrounding Charles Leclerc spread quicker than his winning races. The latest news?
Rumours have circulated that Charles Leclerc and one of Pierre Gasly's childhood friends model Y/N (who fans previously thought gasly was dating ) were together.
Leclerc just earlier, this week, took the world by storm when he defended the model on Twitter against his own fans can you believe it?
But now they're all shocked as it's revealed that Charles has actually been photographed going out with a different girl altogether !
Fans are now questioning the relationship between y/n and Charles Leclerc, as there have been hints that they hung out before …..—>
Read on for all the exclusive details and more.
————
i randomly thought about this and had to post something haha idk where to go from now but we’ll see
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badingsm · 8 months
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*post lasik eye surgery*
y/n, in the kitchen with her lenses taped in her eyes: i want a snack..
nat, hums, guiding her: go on, get anything you want, detka.
y/n, found 3 pieces of banana on the counter, getting one before sniffling quietly: ...that wasn't the one i wanted.
nat, lowly chuckling: stop, you can't cry, love, that's not what you're supposed to be doing.
y/n, sniffling: i tried to get this one—the one with the stem..
nat, giggling: okay, okay, let me get it for you.
y/n: what do we do with this now? *points at the banana that you don't want, pouting*
nat, grinning as she kissed your head: i'll eat it, moya lyubov, it's mine, don't worry.
y/n, frowning: but it doesn't have a head.
nat: i hate heads... well, *smirks* aside from yours, if you know what i mean.
y/n, teary chuckles: stop making me laugh so much!
*y/n laid down in bed, eating the banana*
nat: don't fall asleep eating a banana, okay?
y/n, scoffing: i'm not asleep, my mind is alive!
nat, laughing: okay, baby.
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I Bet You Think About Me | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (District12!reader)
Summary: On the day of his wedding he had everything... except for the bride that he wanted.
Warning/s: angst, kind of like hurt/no comfort kind of thing, wedding, marriage without love, Coryo is drinking alcohol, reader is basically Lucy Gray in this situation, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: I'M BACKK!! I missed writing so much, to be honest. All those Coryo and Lucy Gray edits to this song, plus the music video, inspired me to do this. Enjoy!
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3 AM and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine
Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine
And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree
And I'll bet your friends tell you she's better than me, huh
Coriolanus Snow. The young president of Panem. He truly now felt like he had everything. He did an outstanding job as the Gamemaker. In fact, not long after, his work was praised so much that he could finally take that last step to get what he always, truly wanted. And he, in fact, did it. He was the newest president of Panem, and he knew that that was going to last for a very long time.
He had the title. He had the riches. He never had to starve ever again. He never had to wear poorly made clothes. He had the trust of the people in the Capitol, and he had the control of those in the Districts.
But as a president, everyone expected of him to choose his First Lady of Panem as quicklyaspossible, and he knew that it couldn't be just anybody.
So here he was today. Dressed up in a traditional but quite modern black tuxedo with a white undershirt and a purely white rose tucked into his suit on the right side of his chest. Standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, preparing his wedding speech that he will have to say once he and Livia Cardew are standing on the aisle.
Livia Cardew. She was truly perfect for him. He didn't love her, of course, but that was also his own choice. That's what made her perfect for him.
Once he was forced to find himself a bride because every elite in the Capitol kept pushing, he realized that he truly had no choice. He had to keep up his reputation respectable. So, of course, he knew that his wife, the Future Lady of the Panem, couldn't be just anybody.
Livia Cardew was rich. Her family was too, of course. Their family was respected and considered quite important. Plus, she was pretty. He couldn't really deny that, really.
He chose power, money and reputation that Livia had instead of the love, kindness and compassion that came with you.
He chose it that day that he left you in the woods of District 12. He never knew what happened to you. Did you die? Did you manage to run away in the storm that somehow messed up his head. And perhaps High-as-a-kite-Bottom was telling him some sort of truth when he said that mysteries had a way of driving people mad. And perhaps, if he stayed with you, he would marry someone for love.
Coriolanus let out a groan, shaking his head in a poor attempt to shake those thoughts away. His love for you made him weak. Weak in a way that he never wanted to experience ever again.
Livia didn't have his heart like you did. He doesn't love her. Therefore, he shall never feel weak ever again. He wanted that. He wanted to never love Livia. It was easy, though. It was easy not falling in love with her. Easy compared to you.
But no! He simply refused to think about you on this day. The day of his wedding. He refused the thoughts of you to consume his mind once again. Coriolanus wouldn't let that happen.
So he turned back to the giant mirror that stood in front of him and started to go over his vows once again.
"My darling Livia. You are the most beautiful person I have every encountered." Coriolanus felt his breath shorten at his own lies. "And today, I am honored to be your husband."
It was so fake. It was so cheesy. It was so untrue.
He had to prepare the speech for his bride. For the bride that he never loved.
"Mr. President?" One of the servants came in and addressed him shortly. "It's time."
"I will be there shortly." Coriolanus replied coldly, and the servant closed the door behind him.
Once the door was closed shut once again, he let out a quite loud sigh. In just a few minutes Livia will become a Snow and he will have to proudly show off his little wife that tormented and made fun of him for years during his academy days.
With that thought, President Coriolanus Snow stepped forward towards the door. On the doorway, he lingered. He looked out of the window across his room. He looked out on the city of the Capitol and its glamor and riches and he once again came to a realization that Livia was a perfect fit for his lifestyle unlike you. But he won't ever think of you again.
With the thoughts of you that once again swarmed his head, he loudly closed the door behind himself. Slamming it shut.
Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles
Yeah, they let me sit in back when we were in love
Oh, they sit around talkin' 'bout the meaning of life
And the book that just saved 'em that I hadn't heard of
After the priest said everything that needed to be said and after Coriolanus, and Livia, did everything that needed to be done the young, freshly married couple walked towards the reception, quickly being surrounded by the Capitol's elite that eagerly introduced themselves like they were one of the most important people there.
Perhaps they were, not that Coriolanus cared even a slightest bit.
Livia was standing in the middle of the circle made by the numerous Capitol's elite while he was standing next to her, a glass of posca in his hand. He knew that drinking that liquid in his glass was not the smartest thing for him considering the fact that the alcoholic drink was perhaps a bit too strong.
Not like he considered it worth giving a damn. He needed something very strong to wash away the feeling of Livia Snow's lips on his once the priest said that he can now kiss his bride.
And now, as he took yet another sip from the tall glass, he still felt disgusted by her. Himself. The whole situation.
A few more minutes, that to Coriolanus felt like hours, passed by. The people's excited chatter. The joy of the new President and the Panem's First Lady was over-the-top evident on everyone's face, except for his.
Livia was bathing in attention that were given to her, smiling, quite pleased with the whole situation. Coriolanus felt like he was going to throw up as he watched the scene unfold in front of him as he, too, had to pretend to be happy with everything.
And perhaps it was to much of the posca that he drowned that night or perhaps it was all of the whiteness of the entire reception that made him think what he thought. Hear what he heard.
As he took another sip from the glass, he could have sworn that he heard that melodic voice that haunted both his dreams and his worst nightmares.
But now that we're done and it's over
I bet you couldn't believe
When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave
And I bet you think about me
Coriolanus watched with wide eyes as you stood a few feet away from him, dressed in the blood-red dress that reached the floor barely as it hugged your frame perfectly. You, in your red dress, stood out so perfectly among the white clothes that every guest was required to wear. You stood out so much, he wondered how nobody but him noticed you.
You stood tall and proud by the enormously big wedding cake, which required the front door to be taken away so it could be placed where it was. Snow remembered watching the staff bringing in the cake, the door laying on the grass behind the servant as they carried the said cake. It was ridiculous.
You turned towards the cake, not noticing his ever so blue eyes trailing on you as you moved.
Coriolanus felt his breath shorten once again as he watched your everlasting beauty. He was suddenly very aware of the cool glass that contained posca in his hand and the cold sweat that was sliding down his spine. Was it panic? Was it anticipation? He didn't know.
He watched you as you stretched your hand out towards the top of the cake as you stood on the gigantic table where it was placed, your red heels clicking as you did so.
Suddenly, you knocked over two figures, one of himself and one of Livia dressed up for their wedding. He let out a quiet, barely audible, gasp as you did so and then slowly lowered yourself to the ground.
A little girl, dressed in white, a guest, appeared you as Coriolanus watched. You quickly froze, standing completely still. After a very short while, you slid your finger over the icing of the cake and put the finger in your mouth, tasting the cake.
The little girl smiled and did the same. You and the girl shared the smile before you struck your hand into the cake, ripping one piece out revealing the red color under the purely white cake before you shoved it into your mouth, eating it. The little girl ran off after getting the taste of the delicious cake as you chewed on your piece.
As you did so, Coriolanus and you established eye contact. You made a grimace that clearly indicated that you were disappointed that you had been caught.
Coriolanus Snow allowed himself to blink for a moment to compose himself, and once he re-opened, you were gone.
You grew up in a silver-spoon gated community
Glamorous, shiny, bright Beverly Hills
I was raised on a farm, no, it wasn't a mansion
Just livin' room dancin' and kitchen table bills
Coriolanus and Livia sat down at the front of the reception as the entertainer did his job. He entered the guests of the Capitol’s elite with the microphone in his hand, tight grip on it, which showed Coriolanus that he was nervous.
Coriolanus brushed it off because, all things considered, he was doing quite a good job. He even found himself laughing along to the jokes that were being made.
After one more joke, he turned to one of the Capitol’s elite to quietly, with a smile on his face, discuss the joke that was made. However, the moment he turned back around, his smile disappeared at the sight in front of him.
You were standing there, in a red suit, with a red microphone on your hands, making jokes.
"And then," you spoke in the fit of giggles. "He left me in the woods to die after he told me he loved me."
You laughed after it, and every single Capitol’s elite followed. Coriolanus felt like he wanted to die at that moment, the look of pure horror planted onto his face.
"And best of all was that he HIMSELF tried to kill me with a gun!" You smiled as you tapped a few times on the table near Livia as you pointed at him with a smile, and every single guest of the wedding reception broke into laughter once again.
This can't be real, can it? Coriolanus thought to himself as he watched you.
But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for
And you and I fell like an early spring snow
But reality crept in, you said we're too different
You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes
After that, you, out of nowhere, pulled out a little red box as you made your way towards Livia, who was looking at you with anticipation and excitement.
You handed her your gift as Coriolanus found it harder and harder to breathe.
Livia quickly, but gracefully, opened the box as she removed the ribbon on top.
And as she pulled out the shawl that belonged to Coriolanus' mother, he felt like he was going to scream at the top of his lungs.
It was the shawl that Coriolanus gifted to you back when the two of you took off into the woods. That was the only thing that he found once he started to chase you through the woods. He never found you, though.
Livia placed it around her as she thanked you for the gift. Everyone around you swooned at your sweet gesture as they clapped pleasingly.
You bowed your head down slowly after you drowned the glass of alcohol, falling into the crowd of guests. Disappearing once again.
Now you're out in the world, searchin' for your soul
Scared not to be hip, scared to get old
Chasin' make-believe status, last time you felt free
Was when none of that shit mattered 'cause you were with me
Coriolanus chased after you, trying to catch you. He was suddenly blinded by the light because of the photographer that was taking pictures.
After the photographer went away, Coriolanus rubbed his eyes as his vision, thankfully, turned back to normal. He looked ahead.
And there you were. In a while wedding dress. The back of the dress was trailing behind you. The dress was also graced by white roses all over it. Your hair was in a type of hairstyle that was holding it all up. Your eyes were watching his every move as you stood in front of him.
Coriolanus felt like he couldn't breathe, and so, for a moment, he felt himself longing to cherish every moment of this.
It was just like Coriolanus had imagined it. You as his bride, himself as your groom. It was everything that he truly needed. Everything he ever wanted. Just you and him. You two of you having your first dance as a freshly married couple.
Suddenly, all lights but one went away. The white light above you shined as Coriolanus tried to catch his breath.
He slowly stepped forward, and you immediately followed his lead. Soon, you were standing in front of each other. Chest to chest. So intimate. So perfect.
He slowly reached for your hand, placing it onto his as he soaked up the feeling of your soft skin against his.
He slid his other hand around your waist, bringing you closer to him as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. For a moment, everything stood still. For a moment, the only thing that Coriolanus could hear was his breathing and the beating of his heart.
Coriolanus and you leaned your foreheads against each other, noses brushing. Coriolanus closed his eyes. He never wanted this to end. Then you started to dance.
You were moving with such grace as he spinned you around. His hand in yours as you slided around the dance floor.
"Coryo," your soft voice that whispered in his ear broke the peaceful silence, and his eyes snapped to yours. His eyes. His ocean blue eyes that were always so cold now looked at you with so much gentleness and pure adoration.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything, my love." Coriolanus answered without any hesitation.
"Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for was the love that you had?"
Coriolanus was speechless. The look in your eyes caused the lump in his throat to be stuck there forevermore. He didn't say anything. He didn't protest to your claim. How could he? You were right. On the day of his wedding, he wished to marry you, not Livia. He never found in Livia what he did in you, and he, let's be honest, never will.
Suddenly, before he could stop you, you moved away from him, letting go of his hand and shoulder.
But now that we're done and it's over
I bet it's hard to believe
But it turned out I'm harder to forget than I was to leave
And, yeah, I bet you think about me
You lifted the front of your dress a little bit so you could walk without tripping over. You gazed over your shoulder at Coriolanus before you continued to walk away.
Once you were far away from him, you turned around, quickly causing your hair to fall down your shoulders as you leaned towards him.
All of a sudden, your dress turned red, and as you took a hold of your guitar that he knew all too well (hihi, get it?) the white roses on your dress were painted red.
The white curtain behind you fell, revealing the red light and the Covey as you played your guitar, softly swaying to the music you made.
"I hope you get what you deserve, Coriolanus Snow," you spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more. "But I don't need to worry. You will get what you deserve one day."
With a soft smile, you started to sing.
I bet you think about me when you're out
At your cool indie music concerts every week
I bet you think about me in your house
With your organic shoes and your million-dollar couch
I bet you think about me when you say
"Oh my God, she's insane, she wrote a song about me"
I bet you think about me 🌹
->
->
->
TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @10ava01 @regulusblackcore @writesleah @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @caroline-books @runningfrom2am
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unseededtoast · 4 months
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When Was It Over? | Spencer Reid x F! Reader
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Summary: You had suspicions that another woman was receiving Spencer’s affections, and one night your worst fears are confirmed. Heartbroken, you try to move on but find yourself contemplating when things went wrong, and when it was all over. Inspired by “Is It Over Now?” By Taylor Swift
Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted
wc: 6.7k
content warnings: infidelity, angst, mention of blood
a/n: thank all of you lovelies for taking the time and reading, I appreciate each and every one of you. But especially to @mirdnightmass who suggested this, thank you🫶🏼 and if you have any suggestions please send them my way!
Woven into the fabric of the blanket is a blonde hair. And it most certainly isn't yours. No, the color is wrong and it's not the right length. Your eyes are glued to the hair, blood ice in your veins and chest sore from devastation.
"Who is she?" You ask, pushing the blanket off of you and standing from the couch.
- - - - -
Reading the words on your phone screen cause you stomach to turn with anxiety. Spencer had texted you that he will be home from a case tonight, and that he'd like to come over. Usually, this wouldn't be an issue and you'd be overjoyed to see him. But lately you suspect that there might be someone else entering the picture.
Your suspicions started small. He'd take phone calls that weren't from his boss, he would purposely order an extra coffee in the mornings to take to work, and he started working later than usual. Though you had no concrete proof of anything, it was a gut feeling that you just can't seem to shake.
But you push your anxiety aside and text Spencer back, letting him know that he's more than welcome to come over tonight. And as soon as you send the message, you put your phone away and clean your home to occupy your thoughts.
All too soon, Spencer's knocking on your door and you let him in with a smile on your face. He kisses you as he comes through, smelling oddly sweet. Fighting the urge to throw up, you convince yourself not to overreact until you're certain there's someone else in his life.
Throughout the evening, while the two of you are tangled together on the couch, you peek at him out of the corner of your eye and wonder where things started going wrong. There's a tension between the two of you, and though unspoken, its presence is well known.
You remember how only a few short months ago you would have been beyond excited to spend an evening with Spencer, and now you find yourself counting down the minutes until he leaves. He used to shower you in love and affection, but now his hand barely grazes your thigh.
When Spencer leaves for the night, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a goodnight. You realize as you shut the door that he hadn't told you that he loved you once.
- - - - -
Two weeks pass and Spencer has once again come back home from a case. This time his message asks you if you'd like to come over to his apartment. And you tell him you'll be there, but there's an odd sinking feeling residing in your chest.
Later in the evening you go to Spencer's apartment with distant memories dancing in your head. It seems like just yesterday you came here for the first time, bright eyed and head over heels in love with your boyfriend, who couldn't have been more perfect.
You walk in and place your coat on the rack beside the door, smiling at Spencer who stands with his hands in his pockets. Biting the insides of your cheeks, you wonder if he's even going to lay a finger on you tonight.
"How was your day?" He finally breaks the silence and you nod your head,
"It was okay. Just went to work and now I'm here." The conversation feels like one between new coworkers, not significant others of three years.
"Come on in, I rented your favorite movie and dinner should be here any minute." He finally takes a step towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head atop yours.
Feeling his arms hold you for the first time in almost a month is almost enough to drive you to tears. You take in his scent as it comforts you, and you nuzzle your head into his chest, wishing that whatever was happening between the two of you would pass and things would go back to normal. You miss Spencer's affections, your heart yearns to hear him declare his love for you.
After dinner, the two of you retire in the living room where you take your usual spot on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped over the back, and you pull it over top of you, but your heart stops once it lands in your lap.
Woven into the fabric of the blanket is a blonde hair. And it most certainly isn't yours. No, the color is wrong and it's not the right length. Your eyes are glued to the hair, blood ice in your veins and chest sore from devastation.
Spencer walks into the room after getting a glass of water, but he falls short of sitting beside you. He must've noticed something was wrong in the way you're sat on the couch.
While Spencer watches, you grab the hair between your thumb and pointer finger, pulling it through the fabric and hold it in front of you, eyes meeting Spencer's. Your hand shakes as adrenaline pumps through you, Spencer's jaw falls slack.
"What is this?" Your voice is oddly even and calm given the situation. Spencer's mouth opens and closes a few times before he clears his throat and answers you.
"A friend had to crash here for a few nights." He admits, and you wonder why you're just now hearing of this.
"Who is she?" You ask, pushing the blanket off of you and standing from the couch.
"JJ, I work with her." He says, eyes casting down to the hair still in your grasp. Your heart wildly pumps in your chest.
"So you weren't going to tell me that a woman was staying the night with you?" Finally releasing the hair from your grasp, the realization dawns on you and it's like the puzzle pieces you'd collected over the last few weeks have suddenly put themselves together.
"No, she just needed a place to sleep for a few nights." He says, like he's also trying to convince himself of the same thing.
"Spencer don't lie to me. I know you've been taking coffee to her in the mornings, you've been staying later, and the last time you came over you smelled like her." Your voice starts to shake and you step away from Spencer. Tears well in your eyes and you beg your body not to betray you right now.
"She's just a friend." Is all Spencer refutes your argument with. Your head shakes back and forth, the reality setting in.
"Spencer you've taken better care of her than you have me. Hell, last time we saw each other you barely touched me and you didn't even tell me you love me. And tonight you're doing the same thing." Your throat feels like it's closing up from battling your emotions.
As you wait for him to say something, anything, your bottom lip trembles. Where did this all go wrong? Was there anything you could've done? Could you have held him tighter or kissed him more? The questions race through your mind but are cut short by Spencer.
"I'm sorry. We were on a case and she told me she loves me. But, I promise you that she is just a friend." The words that leave his lips are like knives being dug into your eardrums. And with his words, the tears resting in your lash line fall over and cascade down your cheeks, one right after another.
"How could you? Spencer, how could you? We had everything going for us. I love you with every fiber of my being. I thought you were the love of my life. But now you're just, you're just a lying traitor." You force the words out before you completely break down. Turning away from him, you rush to collect your things.
You're not even sure you put your shoes on the right feet but you don't care. The door of Spencer's apartment swings open and you take one last look at him. His mouth is open, eyes wet, but he says nothing.
He doesn't try to stop you as you leave his apartment, and that makes you sob even harder on your way home.
Is this really how things are ending between you?
- - - - -
"Come on have some fun!" Your friend, Sarah, nudges your shoulder, interrupting your daydream. It's a Friday night and the weather is nice, so she's begging to go out.
"I don't know Sarah, I'm not really in the mood." Your tone is melancholy, and all you want to do is crawl into bed. With a huff, Sarah steps in front of you and grabs your shoulders so that you're forced to look at her.
"You need this. I haven't seen you smile in weeks. Come on, go get ready. It'll be good for you." Her voice is kind, and soft, and you know she's only trying to help. As your lifelong best friend, she's always been in your corner with support and love.
"Fine." You relent, and go find something to wear. You're in no mood for anything uncomfortable or flashy, so you settle on a loose button up and a pair of ripped jeans.
"You look so good!" Sarah tries to hype you up as she grabs her keys, but it doesn't really work. You can't feel good while you're suffering on the inside. With her arm slung around your shoulder, you accompany her to whatever she has planned for tonight.
"Really?" You deadpan ask her as you stare at the neon light adorning the front of the building. This is quite literally the last place you wanted to be tonight, but here you are.
"Yes, it'll be fun, come on." Sarah grabs your hand and drags you alongside into the bar where the music is too loud and the people are even more annoying.
Against your wishes, you line up at the bar and wait to gain the bartender's attention. You figure if you're going to be here you'll need something to numb the experience. Sarah knows you've never been a fan of crowded places so you're confused as to why she even brought you here in the first place.
Once the two of you have your drinks in hand, you find an empty table and take a seat. As you sip, you look around at the patrons; people watching has always been quite enjoyable for you. Your eyes scan the bar and land on a tall man across the way. His smile is wide, hair dark and curly, eyes bright and soft.
Blinking rapidly, you pull your eyes away from the man and order another drink. Guilt eats you from inside as you realize you had been checking out another man; albeit one that looks oddly familiar. And surely another drink will help numb the guilt as well.
Hours later and two drinks turned into four. You feel your cheeks warm from the alcohol, and you're keenly aware that your eyes are back on the tall, handsome man from earlier.
"You should go say something." Sarah says, leaning on the table as she nurses her drink. Shaking your head, you disagree.
"No, I can't." You say, almost as if convincing yourself of your own answer. You're not even sure if you and Spencer are over, you can't possibly go introduce yourself to another man.
"Come on. He's been looking at you all night." She nudges you out of your seat and through the power of liquid courage, you relent.
Turning away from Sarah, you find the man easily and take a quick deep breath. It doesn't take you long to cross the bar and in seconds, you find yourself staring up at the man's green eyes. He's got a small smile on his face, his eyes gleam with curiosity.
"Hi." You smile up at the man, who smiles back.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing talking to a man like me?" He smiles wider, showing off his perfectly white teeth. Your eyes dance from the man's smile to his eyes, relishing in their familiarity.
"My friend said I should come say something." You tell him, having nothing actually prepared to say to him beyond an introduction. The man finishes off his drink and looks over to where Sarah is. He nods,
"Well I'm glad she did. Can I get you another?" He raises the empty glass in his hand. While you feel a little tipsy, you know one more wouldn't hurt.
"Sure." You smile up at him and watch as he goes to order the two of you another drink.
While he's away, you glance over to Sarah, who's smiling at you and giving you a thumbs up across the bar. You suppress your smile, but you're thankful she's still here; she wouldn't leave you alone with a stranger and you know she'll be here to make sure you're okay. Her reassuring presence is probably why you agreed to approach the man in the first place.
The man comes back with two glasses in his hands, and he gives you one of them. He invites you back to his table, which is only a few feet away from where you are standing, and the two of you get to know each other. You learn that he's from the area, he works in finance for a fortune 500 company, and he recently got out of a long-term relationship.
You share how your relationship status is hugely unknown at this point, but spare him the details for your own pride's sake. Thankfully, he doesn't inquire and the conversation flows easily. He even makes you laugh a time or two, which hasn't happened in weeks.
As the night goes on, you find yourself sitting closer and closer to the man, drawn in by how he reminds you of someone you dearly miss. It's entirely clear to you why you're attracted to the man, but you push all of those thoughts away, the alcohol working diligently to cloud your logic and judgment and all you can focus on is the man's lips.
Not even twenty minutes later, you're pulling him in by the front of his shirt, crashing his lips onto yours. His hands hold your waist securely, and his lips move in tandem with your own. The taste of sweetness lingers between the two of you. Your body moves on its own volition, and in the heat of the moment you find yourself practically sitting in the man's lap. Thankfully, the table you two are at is tucked away in the corner, but you're still entirely visible to everyone else. However, that doesn't seem to matter as you place kisses on the man's jaw and down to his neck.
His hands move from your waist up to the first button of your shirt where he expertly undoes it. Your wet lips place another kiss on the man's neck, just underneath his ear like you're used to doing with someone else, and the feeling of another button being undone makes you realize what's happening.
Backing away from the kiss abruptly, your heart drops to your stomach. Your fingers work quickly to clasp the buttons on your shirt and you get off of the man, who looks confused and hurt.
"I'm sorry, I can't- I shouldn't have..." You trail off, giving him no specific answer as you turn around and find Sarah.
She must have been able to tell from the look on your face that you're ready to leave. And thankfully she doesn't ask you a single question on the way back to your house. The entire trip back, you stare out the window and wonder why you let that happen, and how you could've let yourself kiss another man. But mostly you just think about how it should've been Spencer.
Sarah drops you off and wishes you a goodnight, and you half-heartedly tell her goodbye.
Your mind is too preoccupied as you go through your nightly routine and by the time your head hits the pillow, your thoughts have shifted from the unknown man's lips to Spencer's.
You remember how his hands would map out every curve of your body and how his lips would kiss your tender skin, as if you'd break if he wasn't careful. Spencer would always hold you close to him as he showered you in love and affection, his hands unable to get enough of you. Even if the two of you were relaxing on the couch, he would always find a way to touch you, whether that meant you were cuddled in his arms or barely touching his shoulder.
A lone tear drips down your face as you try to sleep, missing having Spencer beside you, missing the feeling of his arms around you, and you know you'll miss seeing his gemstone eyes first thing when you wake up. You mourn the relationship, and can't help but wonder if your actions tonight were the final nail in the coffin.
That night, all you can dream about is Spencer, and how in love you used to be.
- - - - -
Awaking earlier than wanted, Spencer rubs the sleep from his eyes the best he can. It's still dark outside, but he knows that he's not going to be able to fall back asleep. And even if he did, he knows that the only thing he will dream about is you.
The past few weeks all of his dreams have centered around you. At first, they were about how you two met and your first few dates. They were vivid, almost as if they were happening all over again. He could clearly see the tulips he picked for your first date, and he remembers the shade of lipstick you wore that brought out your eyes in the best way possible.
As he makes his way through his morning routine, he's distracted by the traces of you that remain in his apartment. You still have clothes in his dresser, your toothbrush still sits on his bathroom counter. And most noticeably, your scent still lingers on his sheets.
But, his apartment now has traces of JJ too. Her blonde hair sticks to the blankets draped over the couch, her perfume embedded in the material. She had left a hair tie on his coffee table and the mug she used for coffee sits untouched in the sink.
Spencer knows that her confession of love was mainly spurred on by a life or death situation, but he would be lying if he said it didn't reawaken repressed feelings. Back in his early days at the BAU, he had been head over heels for her, but he moved on when she got together with Will. And truthfully, when he met you it was the happiest he had ever been, and he was convinced that you were his soul mate.
That was until JJ told him that she loved him.
A heavy feeling of guilt has taken residence in Spencer's chest since you walked out of his apartment. He knew that you had every right to be upset, and truthfully he doesn't know if the two of you will ever reconcile. As you walked out of the door he wanted to stop you, to beg you to stay, but he knew he couldn't. He had to let you go.
Staring at the couch, he can't help but wonder if your relationship had died the moment he let JJ stay over, the moment she laid on his couch could've been the exact moment your relationship took its last breath. Had that one decision been the beginning of the end?
And he can't help but wonder why he agreed to let her stay in the first place, after a confession of that magnitude, and why he hadn't told you. Was it his subconscious way of admitting he also has feelings for JJ, and that by allowing her to stay in his home it was an acknowledgment of that fact? Had he not told you because of the feelings he harbors for her? Would telling you force him to confront those emotions?
No matter what it may have meant, he can't help but to regret it. The look on your face as you called him a lying traitor will forever be ingrained in his mind. Spencer had never meant to hurt you, no, he loved you dearly.
As each day passes by without hearing from you, Spencer wonders if things are truly over for the two of you. His heart aches from your absence and he yearns to have you back in his arms. But he can't help but feel guilty as he realizes that he may have some of those same feelings for JJ.
- - - - -
Months had gone by since you last saw Spencer, and you finally feel like you can begin to heal. It took some time for you to process what had happened, and now you've come to be at peace with his decision. If he wanted to search for something greater, and found it in her, then there's nothing you could've done.
On a regular routine again, you enter your favorite coffee shop on your way to your new job, needing the extra caffeine. The warm air inside greets you and the rich scent of coffee fills the air.
After you order your usual, you stand off to the side to wait, pushing yourself up against a wall so that other people have room to move around. The lightly falling snow outside catches your attention and from the warmth of inside you can appreciate the beauty.
The barista calls your name out as the front door bell jingles. Grabbing your drink, you relish in how the warmth gives life back to your fingertips before turning to leave, preparing yourself to brace the bitter cold that awaits you outside.
But as your eyes land on the people who had just walked in, it seems as if the wintry cold followed you in after all. Spencer stands at the counter with a blonde haired, blue-eyed, woman next to him who looks like she just walked out of a magazine. Their cheeks are rosy from the cold, but you feel yours drain of all color. And if that wasn't enough, it's like your feet have been superglued to the floor, forcing you to watch as he orders for her with a smile on his face.
It seems he found something greater after all.
After the initial wave of sadness washes over you, you feel a familiar fire within you. Jealousy is an ugly beast, but you can't help the way your eyebrows knit together as you watch them, your thoughts consumed with how that should be you next to him, how it used to be you.
In fact, your jealously goes so far as to create hundreds of impulsive plans to earn his attention away from her. If you spilled your coffee, surely that would do the trick. Or if you tripped on your way out, that would be sure to make him look. Even the fleeting thought of jumping from the roof makes an appearance; the only consequence you can think of is how he'd surely come running straight to you.
But your imaginative plans are all for naught, as they grab their drinks and leave together. She laughs at something he said as the door shuts behind them. And you're still stuck in the middle of the coffee shop with one question floating around in your mind.
Did he really choose her over you?
- - - - -
Staring out of your window that's been frosted over with fresh snow, you can't help but to ponder how exactly you got to be where you are right now. In three days it'll be Christmas, and you've never dreaded the holiday more than you do in this moment.
A few evenings ago you had been rummaging through your closet and found the gift you planned on giving Spencer this Christmas. It was simple, but you knew he'd love it. He had always worn a purple scarf during the colder months, and when you saw this one you just knew he needed it. It was another scarf, but the seamstress who was selling it offered to stitch something on the back of it, and so you had asked her to stitch your initials on the back, so that even while he was away on cases he still had a piece of you with him.
Now the gift lays wrapped on your coffee table, where it silently taunts you with thoughts of what could've been. You stare at it, wondering if you should give it away, throw it away, send it through the mail, or do nothing with it at all.
Unable to look at the box any longer, you take it and put it with the rest of Spencer's things you intend to give back to him soon. Having his belongings in your home is slowly starting to drive you mad, and you know that in order to have any shot of getting over him, it all has to be gone.
In a momentary burst of determination, you grab the box of his belongings that sits in the back of your closet and you take it out to your car, despite the fact that the air is so cold it burns your face and that the snow is coming down at a considerable rate. You figure he's had you in his grasp for too long now and it's time to start reclaiming your home, your life, and begin piecing together who you're going to be after Spencer Reid.
The box is haphazardly shoved into your back seat and your hand quickly grazes the side of a book he had left on your nightstand, and as your luck would have it, you managed to give yourself a papercut. You hold your hand out of the car so you don't get blood on any of his things before closing the door with haste.
Your eyes cast down at the bright, crimson red blood that dots the pristine snow below your feet. Drops of blood roll down your finger and drip from the tip, each drip creating its own prominent mark in the snow. And you can't help but feel like it's more than just blood on the snow, that somehow it symbolizes how you may have very well killed what remained of your relationship with Spencer.
But he gave you no other choice.
- - - - -
Your insides twist and turn with anxiousness as you park your car along the street of a familiar curb. Looking back down at your phone screen, you confirm that this is the time you're supposed to be here before getting out of your car and picking up the box from the back seat.
After Christmas you had sent Spencer a text asking if you could come by and get your things that you had left in his apartment, and thankfully he agreed. You hadn't told him that you were bringing his things, and he hadn't asked for them, but you figured it was just common courtesy to bring them anyways. Plus you can't stand looking at the box any longer, all it does it resurface memories of a better time, one where you were happy and in love. Neither of those things are true anymore.
Walking up the stairs, you remember how excited you were the first time to come over and how you were awestruck by how well he decorated for a man. Of course you added a few things here and there over the years, but soon there will be no trace of you left. Your heart sinks with the realization that Spencer's apartment will no longer be your second home, his arms will no longer be your safe haven.
Once you reach his door, you knock lightly. You had partially hoped that he would just leave your things in the hall, and that the exchange would be easy, but of course he wouldn't do that. And within seconds of knocking on the door, he answers. His hair is messy and he's opted for his glasses today, your favorite look on him. Swallowing hard, you hold the box out in front of you.
"I think this is everything." Your voice is nothing more than a whisper. He steps further inside his apartment,
"Come on in." He invites you, and you wonder if you should accept. You know that if you walk in that a plethora of memories will invade your mind, and you know that if you don't that you may never receive the closure you need. After a few moments of contemplation, you step inside.
You place the box on the ground and put your hands in your pockets as you look around. The decorations you had placed around various locations are no longer there adorning the shelves or the walls, your spare coat no longer hangs from the rack beside the front door, and your handwritten notes are no longer on the front of the fridge. You swallow again and avert your eyes, pleading with yourself to not cry in front of him. But as your eyes move elsewhere, you spot a photograph that still hangs on the wall in his living room.
It was a sunny day in the early spring, and the two of you had just celebrated your one year anniversary. The two of you agreed that a nice picnic would be more than enough of a celebration, and honestly you were just happy that he wasn't being dragged away on a case that day. The two of you laid side by side on the blanket in the plush grass, content with one another's presence, fingers interlaced as his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand. Before the sun went down you had asked him to take the picture, and you always loved how bright his smile was that day.
"This should be everything." He comes back into the entryway with a box in his arms. You spot every little decoration you had ever brought over, along with your clothes that you had almost forgotten about. Spencer places the box on the ground as well, and you nod, clearing the emotion from your throat.
"Thank you." You say and go to pick up your box and get out of his apartment. Truthfully, there's a part within you that wants him to beg you to stay, you hope that he will profess his undying love for you and that you won't have to leave.
No matter how heartbroken you are over his decision, you know that you would take him back in a heartbeat. Your soul still aches for his touch and you're not sure that feeling will ever fade. The intensity with which you love him is passionate and all encompassing. For just another moment in his arms, you can't even begin to list everything you would give and sacrifice. His hugs were always the most comforting, his words always sweet and honeyed, his lips always soft.
Until they were for the blonde-haired woman who came in and took everything from you.
Once the box is in your hands, you give him a weak smile and are almost brought to tears just by looking at his face. Your sweet, sweet Spencer is so close yet has never been farther away. Feeling tears well in your lash line, you commit to memory just how beautiful he is for what is very well the final time you'll ever see him.
In an instant, flashes of what your future could've been runs through your mind. You see the two of you hand in hand at the end of an aisle, long nights of waiting for him to come back home only to be greeted with the most loving kisses, and countless mornings waking up in his arms. You were prepared to give him everything, but now you're left with nothing except the memories of when he still loved you.
Giving him one last chance to say something, your hope begins fizzling out. There's only one thing you want to hear him say, and you're coming to understand that you'll likely never hear those words come from his mouth.
When it's clear that there's nothing left to say, you turn and open the front door. Before the door gets closed on you, you turn to look at him just one last time. You think your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you can almost swear you see a tear fall from his eye.
"Goodbye, Spencer." You say as a lone tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek, unable to keep them at bay any longer. Feeling your bottom lip beginning to tremble, you make yourself walk away before you have a full breakdown in the hallway right in front of him.
The ride back home is silent, except for the occasional sound of your sniffles. Before the exchange of belongings, you had held out hope that it meant that there might still be hope. But now there's nothing left to give you hope.
It seems things are really over now.
- - - - -
Spencer's phone lights up on his counter, catching his eye as he was walking by. Glancing at it quickly, he sees your name attached to the message. He picks the phone up and reads the message that reads less like a text and more like a cordial email.
"Hi, hope all is well. I was wondering if there is a time that I could come by and collect the rest of my things?"
The words make his heart sink, but he replies and lets you know when he'll be home. He knew that this day would eventually come, but he wasn't prepared for it to be so soon. Placing his phone back down on the counter, he looks around and notices just how many traces there are of you everywhere he looks.
In every part of his apartment he can easily recall a memory the two of you made there. The kitchen is where he remembers making cookies together on a friday night, the living room reminds him of the times you fell asleep in his lap, and the bedroom reminds him of all the mornings he was lucky enough to be awoken by your gentle kisses.
But he respects your wishes and begins collecting your things, committing each one to memory. With each and every little item he packs away, he finds himself becoming more and more angry with himself. He can't understand why he jeopardized the love of his life for JJ. Sure, he thought he loved her, and the two of them had spent extra time together after her confession, but after you left Spencer realized that he could never love JJ the way he loves you. And so he came to the painful conclusion that he could only ever love JJ as a close friend, but only after breaking your heart and shattering your relationship he cherished so dearly.
Spencer knows that he has forfeited every right to be with you by making those series of poor decisions but it doesn't make it any easier for him to accept.
As he packs away the rest of your things, he finally finds himself at his dresser, where some of your clothes remain. He remembers the day you brought some of your wardrobe over and he was happy to make room for you. You had told him that by keeping some of your things here that you two could spend more time together as you wouldn't have to go back and forth between homes when staying over or going out. But he never needed convincing, he would've let you do whatever you wanted as long as it kept that smile on your face.
And all too soon, you show up at his apartment with a box in your arms, filled to the brim with his belongings. As soon as he sees your face behind the door, he feels like he wants to collapse to his knees and beg for you to forgive him.
But instead, he gathers your things and returns them to you when you should be staying here. You should be wrapped up in his arms for the rest of the night. He watches as the photo on the wall catches your eye, and even he can't help but to look at it as well.
Seeing the two of you so happy together in a moment frozen in time makes his throat constrict with emotion, and he feels the tears well in his eyes. What he wouldn't give to be able to see you smile like that again, to hold and love and cherish you until the end of time.
Instead, he watches as you turn and leave his apartment. The realization hits him like a brick wall that this could very well be the last time he ever sees you, and he can't keep his composure.  A tear escapes his eye and falls as you turn around and wish him farewell.
Once the door closes behind you, Spencer finally collapses to his knees, sobs wracking through his body while he mentally curses himself for not saying more, for not fighting harder for you.
His chest hurts from crying, but he can't find it within himself to care about anything other than you. He wishes he could forget, things would be easier that way. But instead he's sentenced to a life where he has no choice but to remember everything.
That night while he lays in bed, throat raw and eyes sore, all he can think about is you. The way you fit in his arms like you were made just for him, how you would rake your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, and how sometimes, after particularly hard cases, you would hold him close.
As the hours pass and he gives into sleep, he can almost swear he feels your arms wrapping around him while you whisper for him to "come here", like you always did. Your voice was always soft and understanding as you took him into your warm embrace.
But now the room feels colder than it ever has before, and there's nobody to blame but himself.
- - - - -
A warm spring breeze blows your hair and with it comes the sweet smell of budding flowers. The sun is shining brightly through the puffy, white clouds and for the first time in a long time, you feel at peace.
Once the snow had melted and signs of life began springing back up, it seems your spirits rose as well. Sure, some days are harder than others and you still miss Spencer, but you're able to live without the constant ache in your chest.
You've taken the time to reflect on what happened, and you have come to accept that there was nothing more you could've done. You had given him your entire heart, but that just wasn't enough for him. He searched for something better, something greater, and it seems like he found it. You only hope she makes him happier than you could have, and that she loves him well.
But no matter how hard you work on healing yourself, you can't silence the voice in the back of your mind that reminds you of just how badly you want to see him again. You yearn to even just see him from a distance, and you desperately crave to hear him tell you that he still loves you.
You wish that he could be here sharing this wonderful afternoon by your side, hand in hand and you wish that things had played out differently. Maybe you two would've been engaged, or even married, by now. After all, tomorrow would've been your five year anniversary.
No matter how much time passes you still don't think you're ready to try to get back out there, much to Sarah's disproval. It just wouldn't be fair to the other man, the way you would still see parts of Spencer in him.
With a sigh, you can't help but think of what could've been, how your future with Spencer could've been filled with happiness, laughter, love, and so much more. But no, instead you sit alone on a bench in the middle of a busy park.
After hours of soaking in the warm sun, you decide it's time to go back home. As you walk down the street you recount memories you've thought of a hundred times before and wonder if maybe your path will cross with Spencer's again someday.
Before you open your front door you stop and take a deep breath. The looming anniversary date has made you a touch more melancholy and sentimental than usual and after a long day of reflection, you're finally ready to admit something to yourself that you've been pushing away for far too long.
It's over now.
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herlondonboy · 1 year
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High Infidelity
Pairings: Xavier Thorpe x gn!reader / Xavier Thorpe x Wednesday Addams
Summary: chase two girls, lose The 1
Warnings: cheating, infidelity, Xavier gets slapped. lmk if there are any more
Word Count: 0.8k
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You loved Xavier so much. More than he would ever know. He was the sunshine on your darkest days; the moonlight and the stars in the sky. He was just yours. But that all changed when Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore.
You went to his art shed only to discover that the locks had been changed. You knocked on the door and heard Xavier curse and rush around the small room. A couple minutes later, he unlocked the door and greeted you with messy hair. You noticed how his lips were slightly swollen, but ignored it as he invited you in.
“So, uh, what brings you here, y/n?” Xavier asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“Can’t an Outcast come and see their boyfriend every now and again?” You joked, leaning up to kiss him. He smelt of death, the same scent the new girl smelt of. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies. We could watch that new horror film you want to see so bad.”
“Oh.” He mumbled, looking back. “I, uhm, I’m kind of busy at the moment. Maybe tomorrow?” He asked sheepishly.
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” You nodded. You went to walk away before turning to him. “And how come you changed the locks?”
“Oh, I just have a surprise for our anniversary next month.” Xavier shrugged nonchalantly and your smile dropped slightly.
“Okay, see you.” You waved. “Love you.”
“Fare thee well.” Xavier joked. You waited a second, but the words you wished to hear never came.
It had been like that for a while now. Ever since Wednesday Addams arrived, you became more of a friend than a partner. Long, late night walks became ‘Sorry, Wednesday needs my help.’ He’d let go of your hand whenever he saw Wednesday, wouldn’t say ‘I love you’ back whenever she was in earshot distance. It hurt.
This boy that would once bring you breakfast when you were sick; this boy that would once teach you how to draw simple things under the moonlight, gone. Gone into a fraction of the man he was. This act of high infidelity destroyed you.
Part of you longed for him to tell you the truth, you wanted to hear it from him, not from your peers that had been under the impression that the two of you had broken up. They had seen Xavier’s moves, the ones he made on Wednesday. Your heart broke when everyone came to console you. You had no idea what was going on, having had the flu and being bedridden. Enid, Wednesday’s roommate attacked you with a hug the first time she saw you that week. You awkwardly patted her back in confusion and she broke away to explain. Xavier had been seen kissing Wednesday under the moonlight in your spot.
That was a month ago. You figured that if he really cared, he would’ve tried harder to keep it a secret. He should know, there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love. The slowest way is never loving them enough.
You were left doubting yourself. Did Wednesday have something that you don’t? Were you not as pretty as Wednesday? How could someone so in love with you just fall out of love like that? Did he ever even love you?
“I’m breaking up with you.” Xavier said. The date was April 29th. Your anniversary. He hadn’t shown up for your date and now here he was, breaking you with you. Who the hell does he think he is? “I… i think that you were manipulating me with your siren song and-"
You cut him off by punching his face. “You cheat on me for months and have the audacity to blame me?” You asked in shock, holding your pounding hand. Xavier looked shock. “Oh, you think I don’t know? You think that I don’t know that you kissed Wednesday in our spot under the moonlight? I built that place. I made the handles paintbrushes, not her. I said I love you there, not HER!” You yelled.
“y/n, calm down.” Xavier said quietly, looking at all of the eyes on you.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. I am calm!” You exclaimed. “No, Xavier, I break up with you.” You then said.
“Am I interrupting something?” A monotone voice said, making you jump out of your skin.
Xavier looked distraught and you turned to see Wednesday Addams. “Yes.” You said, turning back to your boyfriend. “I love you. You are my sun and my moon and my stars. I can’t even find it in my heart to hate you.” Tears gathered in your eyes as you spoke your mind. “Did I do something? Am I not pretty enough? Not cool enough?”
“It’s not you, it’s me.” Xavier said. You wanted to call BS, but he continued. “I fell out if love with you and instead of telling you, I lead you on.”
“But why? When?” You had began crying.
“I don’t know.” He admitted. “I just know that when I saw Wednesday, I felt what I felt when we first started dating.”
I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you did. You did, you did.
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— The Archer | R. Targaryen *✧・゚
▹ Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader
▹ Genre: Angst and Comfort
▹ Words: ~3.7k
▹ Summary: All of Rhaenyra's enemies started as friends and she's terrified you'll be next.
▹ Note: Your Honor, I'm gay.
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
There'd been a shift in your relationship with Rhaenyra.
You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it had happened or the exact reason for it. But something had changed. No longer did she freely show her affections in the privacy of her chambers, nor did she reach out to hold your hand in hers. Cold and distant, Rhaenyra didn't call on you as much as she previously had. 
Paranoia had you in its claws; had you done something wrong? Did she find someone else to fall in love with? Perhaps someone she could be with so publicly, not a lowly handmaiden she could only ever have in the quiet of the night. 
Your heart hammered with anxiety and suspense; tossing and turning, sleep had evaded you as you began to keep tally of how many times Rhaenyra called on your aid. The most in one day had been three, and she used to call on you double that amount just to be in your presence. Something was wrong; you just didn't know what. 
She wouldn't even meet your gaze anymore. 
It made you squirm when in her presence, where once you had been at complete ease. Doubt made your sunny skies turn gray as insecurities gnawed on you. Did she rekindle her friendship with Queen Alicent and leave you in the dust? Or was it Daemon Targaryen who captured her attention from you? Perhaps someone new to the court you hadn't even realized was a threat. 
There was nothing to do; you were helpless, unable to act as the woman you loved drifted further away. Goodbye was screaming in the silence between the two of you.
Hands shaking and breathing unsteady, your footsteps echoed in the dark halls, its flickering candles casting monsters in the corner of your vision. Your fingers gripped the serving tray in your hand so tight that all circulation had been cut off as your knuckles turned white. The decanter of wine shook, and its sound called out just how terrified you were. 
The princess had requested red wine as she prepared for bed, and you were terribly anxious this would be the night she'd officially end the relationship the two of you shared. But you didn't want that; you didn't want to face the harsh reality that everything was crumbling around you. You'd take awkward silence over definite endings. 
All too soon, you reached her chambers, the doors looming over you in a mocking manner. Carefully, you raised a single fist to the door and knocked, the rap of your fist almost as loud as the beat of your heart. A lump was caught in your throat as you waited.
"Come in." The walls muffled Rhaenyra's voice, but you'd heard them well enough, always too aware of anything related to Rhaenyra. And maybe that was where you went wrong. Blinded by the princess, you took her words as an oath and not the petty dalliance she probably viewed it as. 
Carefully, hands still shaking, you opened the door. The sweat on your palm nearly made it stick to the cool metal of the knob.
The room was dimly lit by half-melted candles and candelabras spread throughout the large chamber. The duvet on her large bed was pulled back, inviting her to sink into the plush mattress of cloud-like pillows. Rhaenyra sat in front of her vanity, hair loose and unbraided, dressed in a night dress and a silk robe. She turned her head as you entered, purple eyes carefully watching you with an unreadable expression. 
She used to look at you with warmth and vibrant affection, every emotion she felt visible on her face. Now it was like looking at a statue, harsh and emotionless. The pit in your stomach burrowed deeper, and your heart got caught in your throat. Where did it all go wrong?
Your eyes darted from her, unable to stare any longer without bursting into tears. The walls were closing in on you as the ability to breathe was taken from you. Like a rat, you hurried to the other side of the room, setting the tray on a small table. 
You opened the decanter, pouring the red wine into the glass. You took your time to avoid spilling anything. You needed to be out of the room as soon as possible. The weight of Rhaenyra's eyes on you was equivalent to the ceiling collapsing onto you. A scenario you would've preferred over this one; at least then death would be quicker than this slow burn. 
There was a soft clank as you set down the crystal decanter. With the glass of wine in hand, you turned and walked towards Rhaenyra. Eyes lowered to the floor, and counting each step taken, you set the glass on the vanity, a few inches from Rhaenyra's hand, that tightly gripped the wood's edge. 
You didn't mutter a word, simply lowering into a slight curtsey before turning and exiting the room. Except you hadn't made it that far, only crossing half of the room before Rhaenyra spoke. 
"Wait." 
You stopped in your tracks, the hammer of your heart so loud you wouldn't be surprised if all of Dragonstone heard it. 
"Come here."
Your eyes fluttered shut, unsure whether you should be relieved or terrified. She would either take you in her arms as she had nearly every night the past year, or she'd fully sever the thread that tied the two of you together.
Deeply you inhaled, held it for a moment, then exhaled, opening your eyes. You turned, eyes still on the floor, as you returned to where Rhaenyra sat. You waited for her to speak, terrified of what she may say. So silent you could've blended into the walls; things had never been this way between you. Rhaenyra had always been more of a friend than a superior and then a friend that became a lover. 
But now she would become a stranger again.
"Would you brush my hair and plait it for bed?" She spoke to you as if you were a stranger, even-toned and perfectly polite. But perhaps if you'd been looking anywhere other than your feet, you'd have noticed the storm of emotions reflected in her eyes. 
Wordlessly you nodded, grabbing the hair brush and meticulously brushing out any knots and tangles. You made quick work of it but refrained from seeming too eager to finish the task. The last thing you needed was to potentially anger Rhaenyra, something you'd never been afraid of. But nothing was as it once was. 
Her hair was like silk threads between your fingers as you wove each strand into one braid that fell down the middle of her back. While your eyes focused solely on her hair and the task at hand, Rhaenyra's were on you. 
A soft smile curled at the edges of her lips, heart heavy with anxiety and fear she didn't dare speak into existence. It wasn't that she wanted to push you away. But as paranoia and fear took root within her mind, rotting away her faith and belief that there were good things out there, distancing herself was better than watching you twist into someone who hated her.  
Yet even as she resolved herself to do such, creating an armor of ice to encase herself with, the sting of heartbreak hit her heart. While she would self-soothe with reassurances that it was only raw for now, that soon the ache would dull, she wasn't convinced. In the loneliness of the night, her bed was entirely too big. You should've been in the space beside her, greeting her with sleepy smiles and bleary eyes that sparkled like stars. 
Rhaenyra was sure that she'd be getting over you her whole life. Yet missing you wasn't the worst of it.
Never a player of the Great Game the nobles busied themselves with, you wore your heart on your sleeve. It was evident the hurt you bore from her sudden withdrawal. Shockwaves of trembling hands and unsteady breaths plagued you, eyes not as bright as they once had been. She noticed it all, and it was like a dagger to the heart every time she did. She never wanted to hurt you; she never wanted you to hate her. 
Yet the fear of you twisting the dagger embedded in her chest from past betrayal made her rash. It made her paranoid, visions of treachery riddling her with madness. Alone in the dark, twisting in her sheets, Rhaenyra's doubts spiraled out of control. 
But in the solitude of her room, Rhaenyra could feel her walls weakening as your nimble fingers brushed through her hair.
You continued your work on Rhaenyra's hair, nearly finished as you reached the end. Before Rhaenyra could return the mask of indifference to her face, you were tying her braid with a cord, eyes moving from her head to meet her eyes in the mirror. Reflected in her eyes was the same pain and longing in yours. It made a lump return to your throat, a small sliver of hope like dawn coming after night. 
Neither of you spoke, your hands still tangled in the ends of her hair. Time had stopped, the both of you screaming a million things with your eyes. Yet neither of you could understand the other, leading to more confusion as your heart continued to break. She nearly reached out and snatched your hands; in fact, she was lifting her hand, fingers outstretched--
The sudden rumble of thunder broke the silence as you jumped back from Rhaenyra, hands falling to your side, and Rhaenyra mourned the loss of your touch. She realized how much she truly missed it.
"Will that be all, my lady?" You lowered your head, eyes once again on your feet.
Rhaenyra hesitated. She'd wanted you to stay, to pull you into her arms and make you swear you'd never leave her. She wanted you to leave kisses on her face, punctuating each one with a promise of undying fealty, not as an heir to the Iron Throne but as the woman you loved. So close within her grasp, she could have reached out and captured your hand, holding it so tight she wouldn't feel a thing. Everything she wanted stood before her, patiently waiting for her to speak. 
And yet Rhaenyra found herself tongue-tied, fighting a war no one else knew was waging. Could she take the leap, put her faith, trust, and everything sacred to her in you, and just simply hope you wouldn't turn your back on her? Could she fully bare her soul, grant you her heart, and pray you wouldn't crush it? Love involved a leap of faith that Rhaenyra was hesitant to take.
How could she open up after so much betrayal from the ones she least expected it from?
But at the same time, all she was feeling was pain that she had inflicted on herself. Was she some sort of masochist, content with being hurt so long as she could wield when and who it came from? 
"Princess?" Your voice pulled Rhaenyra from her thoughts as she refocused on her surroundings. You were looking at her, a hint of concern in the cracks of your neutral expression. 
It only made Rhaenyra's heart twist. You should be cursing her name, swearing up and down the halls Rhaenyra Targaryen was a cheat and a liar. And yet... 
You still cared; it shone in how you watched her, eyes too keen and all-knowing. But if you were all-knowing, why couldn't you see the paranoid propaganda she was feeding herself? She wished, more than anything, you were the mind reader she often joked you were.
Time seemed to slow, unknown words forming on her tongue and falling from her mouth. 
"Stay with me." 
For a moment you stared at her, entirely sure you'd heard her wrong. Yet even as you replayed her answer over and over again, it hadn't changed. She wanted you to stay. Yet even as you lit up with newfound optimism, you crushed it before it could blossom. You didn't want to be let down. 
You then nodded, unable to stifle the small smile on your lips. "Of course, princess. What is it you require of me?"
Rhaenyra picked up the glass of wine that had remained untouched up until that moment, and she stood from the vanity. She tipped the glass back, welcoming the bitter taste of it.
"Have a drink with me." 
You nodded, following Rhaenyra as she walked towards the table where you had placed the decanter of wine. You moved to pour the glass, but Rhaenyra beat you to it, filling a second glass she presented before topping off her own. 
"Thank you," you muttered, taking the glass and tentatively sipping. It was all so familiar, like a sense of deja-vu from when the two of you would sip wine and explore fantasies that could never be. Yet the air was never this thick with tension.
Rhaenyra sat at the table, motioning with her head for you to follow suit, which you did. Your fingers drummed on the wood, nerves making you restless. It felt as though you were awaiting trial for crimes against the crown. 
Unspoken words hovered in the atmosphere, tangible yet elusive. Rhaenyra drank the wine like water while you hardly touched yours. Your stomach was so twisted that the thought of drinking anything made you nauseous. 
The only indication that any time had passed was the dwindling wine and the storm that continued to rage outside. After her third glass had been drained, Rhaenyra set down the cup, pushing it away to indicate she was finished. 
Only then did her eyes find yours, expression severe and austere. There were small lines along her forehead from the furrow of her brows and creases from the frown on her lips. You wanted to smooth them all and kiss away whatever made her so cold, yet that wasn't your place anymore. 
"Do you love me?" She spoke softly, yet a sharp edge to her words carried the weight of an unspoken accusation. She judged you guilty of crimes you never even committed, put you in a cell, and destroyed the key without so much of a trial.
Yet you could do nothing but answer her earnestly because no matter the number of cuts in your skin from her sudden distance, your heart would always belong to her and only her. 
"Yes." 
Rhaenyra's jaw tightens, and in the flicker of the candles, you see the quiver of her lip and the slight shake of her form. She was crumbling, ash to the fire you radiated. Any resolve to preserve her heart in the act of self-sabotage was destroyed. 
"Say it." The words were strained, Rhaenyra's eyes shut so tight the skin might rip. Tears pricked in her eyes, and Rhaenyra did her best to keep them at bay. 
"I love you." You said it with such conviction and sincerity, Rhaenyra nearly believed it. Her eyes remained shut, but her body slackened and sunk into her chair. However, you leaned forward, eyes narrowed as everything clicked into place.
"Is that why you have been so distant and different? Did you believe I did not love you?" You asked, hands finding Rhaenyra's. You gripped them tightly as if to force Rhaenyra to truly see you. 
"It is silly," she laughed, the sounds hollow and empty. She refused to look at you, knowing the burning passion in your eyes would make her fully give in. But she needed to maintain the walls around her heart, even if you kept tearing them down as she put them into place. She wouldn't be hurt by anyone ever again. 
"It is not," you argued, squeezing her hand. "Look at me." She didn't heed your request, stubbornly turning her head away. You stood, the wood of your chair scraping against the stone floor, and you kneeled before Rhaenyra, pulling one of her hands into yours, elbows resting atop her knees.
"Rhaenyra, look at me." Still, she refused. With your free hand, you forced her head to face you. "'Nyra, please." With your final plea, her eyes fluttered open, purple iris' glossy from unshed tears. Diamonds under her eyes glistened, carving a path down her cheek as a few stray tears fell. 
"I love you. I have loved you since the day I laid my eyes upon you. I need you to know that to understand the way I feel will never change."
"You don't know that. You cannot predict how you will feel in the future." She was stubbornly arguing, clinging to the last bit of fight she had. Your touch was burning her skin from her humiliation at appearing so weak. 
"No, I may not be able to see the future, but I know how I feel for you, and I know that won't change."
"I can't be hurt again. All my enemies were once friends, and I cannot bear to see the same happen to you. I cannot lose you." Her hand ghosted over your cheek, her hand that was in your grasp interlocking with your fingers. 
"And you will not. I won't betray you as Queen Alicent of Ser Criston or any of the others that left scars on you. What must I do to make you see that?"
Sharply Rhaenyra inhaled, choked sobs raking through her body. "I do not know how to stop it. I am terrified, so terrified. I do not want to be disappointed, not again."
You swallowed thickly, allowing her words to process as your thumbs stroked the palm of her hand. Like the weather outside, you were a tempest of emotions. A blend of sadness, desperation to comfort Rhaenyra, and burning anger towards those at King's Landing who had created these wounds. 
Rhaenyra always had to maintain a strong facade as the heir to the throne, especially with her claim constantly being questioned. But for now, you would be the source of strength she had to be for so many people. 
Rhaenyra continued to cry as you all but cradled her against you.
"Then I promise to do my best to never let that happen, and if it does, and one of us is let down by the other, I'll do my damndest to ensure I am the one that gets hurt."
Rhaenyra was too stunned to speak, the passion behind your words taking her aback. She pulled her head back from your chest to give you a wide-eyed stare.
You were truly in love with her; you'd meant every sleepy promise and quiet confession. The words you spoke hadn't been hasty or impulsive. They were an oath sworn under a canopy of stars with the gods as your witness. Rhaenyra had been a fool to not realize it before. 
"I love you." 
It was all she uttered before her lips were on yours. The kiss was salty from the tears falling from Rhaenyra's eyes, but you didn't mind, more than content to be pulled beneath the waves of her waters. 
This kiss felt different from all the others you'd shared, a show of affection and relief that the cold war waging between you was over. There would be peace, and Rhaenyra could return to her home in your arms. 
It was also more than that; it was also a declaration of devotion between the two of you, as sacred as any wedding. The waters would be rough, and the two of you could never truly be together anywhere other than the privacy of these four walls. Yet it was everything you'd wanted.
Rhaenyra was everything you wanted. 
You returned her fervor, determined to make her feel every word you hadn't spoken. Gently, your tongue slipped past her lips, and you swallowed the small gasp she let out. One hand was on the nape of her neck, keeping her close while the other traced patterns along the curve of her cheek. She tasted like wine and imported berries from the Reach, an intoxicating blend that made your mind grow hazy. 
She pulled back first, only centimeters separating the two of you. Eye to eye, her forehead resting on yours, she breathed in. The tip of her nose brushed against yours as you panted. 
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. How could you possibly forgive me," Rhaenyra spoke with as much reverence as a Sept reciting sacred prayers. 
"Because I love you," you spoke, lips brushing over hers. "I love you, and I will continue to do so until the end of my days." 
"I do not deserve you." 
You cupped her cheek in such a soft and delicate fashion. She was a work of art, and you'd handle her with the care she deserved. 
"You deserve so much more than you've been given, 'Nyra. I cannot give you much, but I will give you all my love; I can promise you that. I will never betray you, I will never leave you, and I will never, ever stop loving you."
She breathed out a laugh, a sweet smile on her swollen lips that were bruised from the kiss you'd shared. "And I promise you that when I am named Queen, I will make a new order and marry you, proprietary be damned. I want you, and I will have you. No court, army, or god could stop me."
There was a glow on your face, her words making you feel as high as the heavens. The smile on your face would never be wiped off. Truth rang in Rhaenyra's words, and you knew they weren't pretty promises to make you feel all light and giggly. 
"Do not start a war for me," you muttered in a playful tone, undoing the plait you had done so you could card your fingers through her hair.
"I would burn down the entire world for you." She spoke with such devotion it made your cheeks flush pink.
"Perhaps we start with you kissing me again." 
And Rhaenyra complied with your request, over and over again, determined to make up for the hurt she inflicted. 
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escenariosinfumables · 4 months
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Delicate
prince!sanji x princess!reader
Note: shitty english. just a little bit of angst. happy ending. royal au.
SPOILER: past of sanji // WCI arc !!!
Word count: 1,153
Sanji knows about his delicate reputation. Is the three prince of Germa, but doesn't have the character of a king, is not strong, cunning, tenacious or powerful enough like his brothers. He would never become a ruler worthy of Germa. Sanji is is too kind, too sensitive, too pure, too weak, like his father say every day. But Sanji doesn't care the power, he don't want to be part of the royal family. Since was little, only longed for one thing: reach hearts through a delicious dish. Sanji loved cooking. Cooking was everything to he.
Until the early age of ten, the prince managed to develop his natural talent thanks to the kindness and protection of his mother, but when she died of a fast and fatal illness, his little garden of happiness ends.
Cooking was banned and replaced by long days of physical training and lessons on war politics with the rest of his brothers. Brothers had a bitter taste in the young prince's mouth, his three brothers, two older and one younger, were the exact copy of their father. However, that didn't stop Sanji from continuing to cultivate his passion even in secret. Every time he was discovered, the punishment for it continued to increase in ferocity. But, again, he didn't give up. His determination was so great that his inappropriate personality and disdain for his duty reached the ears of the entire kingdom, thus earning him the title of the Weak Prince. Germa's disgrace.
Be the target of ridicule led, at some point, to being a victim of physical abuse by his brothers and superiors. His father, completely disappointed, began to ignore him, addressing him only when strictly necessary. Since her mother's death, the only person who seemed to care was Reiju, Germa's firstborn. After each brutal punishment he managed to sneak until he reached him, and silently heal each wound.
Entering adulthood, Sanji was no longer recognized as a prince except for moments like that. The Dance of the Kingdoms was an excuse for different sovereigns to negotiate their next power moves. On that occasion, the big deal was the ruler of a small island rich in a strange nutrient, an object of desire for King Judge, essential to improve the nutrition of his generically created soldiers. Then, whoever managed to conquer the heir of such an island would be the owner of all that. However, the heir was a bastard. Reject each of the suitors before they could even open their mouths.
Sanji, with no intention of competing with his brothers, took advantage of his family's moment of distraction and managed to infiltrate the kitchens of the great palace. He was amazed at the extent of it, the number of cooks running from one side to the other, the heat of the fire and the tension of the air filled his body with adrenaline. His hands itched, eager to be able to cook with the absurd amount of foods and spices that delighted his senses. No one seemed to notice his presence, so he took off his heavy coat and other royal ornaments, fixing his shirt, and washed his hands. He managed to find a corner far away, but not so far away as to seem suspicious, and he didn't hesitate to take the sea king meat in front of him and start working.
From time to time a chef would shout something near him, lowering his head he would simply shout "yes, chef!" before continuing his work. It was such a happy atmosphere that he even joke with other cooks. The adrenaline and happiness in his body led him to prepare more than one dish, some of his own and others at the chef's orders. When dinner time arrived, he disappeared from the masterful kitchen as quickly as he entered.
The Germa family took their place at the main table next to a representative of the Charlotte family and the host family. His father scolded him for his tardiness with a crude look before returning to the conversation.
Beside him, he felt a strange movement. A young woman with long blue hair seemed to be sniffing his person. He tried hard, praying she wouldn't recognize the smell of the kitchens on him, wanting to avoid another harsh punishment. Luckily for him, on the other side of the young woman his brother seemed less demanding of her attention. When the main course arrived, Sanji tried to hide his excitement as he noticed that some of his dishes were resting on the table, ready to be devoured. His father and Reiju enjoyed the sauce he had seasoned, while the hosts and his older brother, Niji, sampled the soft sea king meat he had specially prepared. His chest swelled with pride as he heard the small moan of pleasure escape from the young woman next to him.
Dinner was followed by coffee, a time when the senior rulers and their direct heirs moved to the meeting room, leaving the rest of the guests to enjoy the dancing. During dessert Reiju had pointed out that one of his badges seemed to have fallen off. Taking advantage of the moment of distraction, he cautiously returned to the kitchen, hoping to find it there.
"I'll ask just one more time" the firm voice made him stop halfway and hide behind the large oven. The blue-haired girl looked like she was about to cry or break something. "Who prepared the sea king?"
"I'm sorry, miss, I repeat again that I don't know who prepared your dish," the head chef explained with a trembling voice. The rest of the cooks nodded frantically. "It wasn't on the menu."
Sanji's stomach twisted anxiously. Because of him, innocent people would be punished, he had to do something. He bravely emerged from his hiding place, coming up behind her. I notice the cooks turn pale when they recognize him, this time dressed as a prince.
"It was me, miss," he confessed, making her exalt, accompanied his words with a bow. "I apologize, don't punish your employees, they have nothing to do with my actions."
The face of the infamous heiress wore a look of confusion. "Punish?" she asked, "I wanted to know who it was to congratulate you. It's the most delicious dish I've ever tasted."
Sanji's entire body froze. He couldn't remember the last time he had been congratulated, perhaps by his mother.
"Are you Sanji, from Germa?" she asked to which Sanji simply nodded once. "The weak prince?" Sanji nodded still without processing the information "And do you know how to cook?" he nodded again "Good, I want you to be the one in charge of the menu for our wedding"
The prince was dragged to the room where the elders are talking, but not before feeling something pushed on his chest. It's the insignia.
"Come on, we must tell my father that I found a husband."
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swflyth · 6 months
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Taylor Swift
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these memories follow me around - A Jily Modern AU
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I was not supposed to publish this tonight and not to leave it unfinished either. I wanted to gift all Jily fans who like to read fanfiction as much as I do a finished 3-part fic which I had been working on whenever I felt like it in the past couple of weeks. However, I just realized tonight that my AO3 draft will be deleted tomorrow and I didn't want this to happen for the very obvious reason that I didn't want my work to get lost.
So, if you'd like to read it... Part One is up. Part Two and Three to follow as soon as possible!
The first time she ever saw him, he was stumbling out of Emmeline’s room; half-naked, rubbing sleep from his eyes, hair an absolute mess – a perpetual state she would later find out – and quite obviously hungover.
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lovrsm · 5 months
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ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
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Inspired by Taylor Swift songs...
ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ
ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ-"you should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk"
ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ ɪɪ- "Alone, unless you wanna come along?"
ᴅᴀʏʟɪɢʜᴛ- "I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you" (coming soon...)
ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ- "I'm wonderstruck blushing all the way home." (coming soon...)
ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ ᴛʀᴇᴇ ꜰᴀʀᴍ- “Just being in your arms takes me back to that little farm”
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ open!
Request open!
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hopelessdelusional · 11 months
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Masterlist .・。.・゜✭・.
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»»-----------► y/n is a professional photographer, though she’s been out of the game for a bit due to an unexpected medical issue, she’s back. she got a job ready for a couple days out so why not go to a party with some mutual friends? it was a good idea until she finds herself drunk and kissing one of the most beautiful men she’s ever laid her eyes on. next thing y/n knows her newest client is the same man she was grinding on two nights ago. will something happen with this drunken love? or will it go down the drain just like it normally does?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫
Face Claims📷
☄️Introducing bakusquad☄️
⭐️Introducing y/n gang⭐️
🌌priv accounts for both!🌌
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ SEASON ONE
✦ episode one: I know places
✦ epidode two: gorgeous
✦ episode three: i did something bad
✦ episode four: gold rush ✎
✦ episode five: you need to calm down
✦ episode six: this is why we can’t have nice things…literally ✎
✦ episode seven: sweet nothing ✎
✦ episode eight: enchanted ✎
✦ episode nine: other side of the door
✦ episode ten: if this was a movie ✎
█████▒▒▒▒▒ halfway done!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ SEASON TWO
✦ episode eleven: all of the girls you’ve loved before
✦ episode twelve: today was a fairytale ✎
✦ episode thirteen: begin again
✦ episode fourteen: false god ✎
✦ episode fifteen: call it what you want
✦ episode sixteen: i wish you would ✎
✦ episode seventeen: labyrinth
✦ episode eighteen: soon you’ll get better ✎
✦ episode nineteen: cowboy like me ✎
✦ episode twenty: wildest dreams ✎
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫
taglist is open! just message or comment
。・:*˚:✧。 updates every ✧Sunday✧ and ✧Wednesday✧
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cloudbride · 24 days
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Slut! | CL16 & MV1
pairing: lestappenxsinger!Reader
fc: Taylor Swift <3
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likedby lewishamilton,charles_leclerc,maxverstappen1 and 2,160,465 more
yourusername : Hey guys! I'm so excited to announce that I'll be opening up the F1 race ceremony for the new season. I can't wait to share my music and energy with all of you, and help set the tone for a great new season ❤️💙
Can you guys guess what team I'll be rooting for? I won't tell you just yet, but it’s definitely not mercedes 😆
Lewishamilton : i thought we were bffs!!
-yourusername :@/lewishamilton sorry not sorry
fan13: OMG OMG OMG MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING
f1fann: AAAAAAAAH Y/N X CL16?!!?!???!?!?
userna207: this is gonna be insane can’t wait!!
taylorswift : WOOO GO BESTIE❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
-yourusername : @/taylorswift ilyyyyy<3
scuderiaferrari : we know y/n is in her RED ERA 🧣♥️
-redbullracing : @/scuderiaferrari well don’t get excited theres a 💙 and don’t forget about 1989 🤨
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f1wagsandgossip : sent by anon
Hey guys, You won't believe who showed up early to the Grand Prix, and who she was around with.
Y/N was seen walking into the Ferrari hospitality with Charles Leclerc himself and they looked pretty intimate. Is she really rooting for Ferrari after all? I hear she had her hands on his back as he showed her around, and they were getting pretty close... Could this be a new romance in the making?
-
userno: why is she even there isn’t her concert at night???
-fannn3:@/userno because she wants too???
user122: i literally cannot believe this is happening!!!!!!!
ynfanff : lol so y/n choose ferrari after all 🤣
mvxclstan : y/n bestie what about max and rb i was rooting for them ))))):
ussserrr9090: charles is way too fine y/n i understand haha
someone274: max is currently in his rep era
haterhater: watch out for the break up songs
————
note : sorry for disappearing med school is kicking my ass anyway this is something rushed hope u like it !
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dating the batboys... and their Taylor Swift songs | (1.5/2)
pairings: Jason Todd x GN!Reader
warnings: angst, mention of death, arguing
requested?: kind of! @igotanidea asked to be tagged for a part for Jason so here you go!
a/n: THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THE FIRST PART!! it truly means a lot to me! I’m also sorry it took SO long, I’ve been testing. I decided to split this into parts just so I could get something out for y’all. It also is a bit longer than others so I hope y’all like it!
its so hard only choosing two songs but if I didn’t this post would be going on foreverrrrr.
Jason Todd
i'd like to establish this by saying Jason Todd is NOT the angry Robin
but like with all of the boys, he is traumatized
like extremely traumatized
if he was to get with you, he'd have to know you for a long time
even then it's iffy
he has a lot of trust issues
and abandonment issues
issues in general
if he knew you before his death, I feel like you’d have a higher chance of him trusting you
(the angst potential here…)
but don't get me wrong
he’s the type who once he loves someone, he loves them with every ounce of fiber he has in his body
I’d like to think of him as a secret hopeless romantic
just has a hard time showing it
he would be the type of boyfriend to tease you about you wanting something badly and then go behind your back and buy it for you
this man would die (again) for you
you ask him to jump and he’ll say how high
in the beginning he would be anxious about doing mundane things with you (not that he would ever admit)
but once he gets used to it, it’s his favorite thing
do not fold laundry with this man because he’ll definitely make into a war and start throwing clothes at you
favorite pass time would be to cook with you
YES I HEADCANON HES A GOOD COOK SHUT UP
being lazy on the couch together, reading books and enjoying each others presence
as much as Jason loves touch, I feel like he would love spending quality time with you more
especially given his busy life style with being Red Hood
would keep you away from that life
he’s like Bruce in that aspect and will not risk getting you involved
especially because being Red Hood is more dangerous and he has a LOOOT of enemies
encouraging him to open up about his emotions
he’s better than Bruce about talking about his feelings, but he still has issues with it
comforting him through nightmares
also comforting him through panic attacks and whatnot
understanding his complicated relationship with his family and trying not push him about it
still developing some what of a relationship with his brothers
if you knew him before his death, definitely having that fear of losing him again
you never recovered from the loss of him and even to this day, it haunts you
having arguments about it because Jason insists he’s careful and you won’t lose him
having arguments in general because he struggles with trusting people and is paranoid
those arguments do not last long because as much as he is stubborn
he doesn’t want to lose you
longest it will last is a couple of days
staying up late waiting for him to get home
LATE NIGHT CUDDLES
I would also like to argue that Jason lives for playful wrestling
he loves making you smile as it’s his favorite feature on you
late night motorcycle rides
he is such a mother hen when it comes to you
“did you eat today? have you had any water? what time did you go to bed?” “okay mom,”
teaching you how to use specific weapons and self defense because duh, it’s Gotham (part two)
at the end of the day, Jason Todd is a traumatized man trying to love you the best he can.
Me being me, I’m going to have to say Afterglow (from Lover) would be my number one choice for Jason. It actually inspired me to even start this! I think Treacherous (from Red (Taylor’s Version)) would be so Jason too.
Bonus: Sparks Fly (from Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)) is also a very Jason Todd song. No I will not elaborate.
“Tell me that you're still mine
Tell me that we'll be just fine
Even when I lose my mind
I need to say
Tell me that it's not my fault
Tell me that I'm all you want
Even when I break your heart”
It didn’t take a genius to realize Jason Todd had messed up. He knew it as soon as the words that had tasted like poison left his mouth. All of the melting hot rage he had felt reached it’s boiling point, and it finally blew up.
“What do you know, you don’t even have a family!”
It seemed to echo throughout your shared apartment. The deafening silence that slowly poured in after made him feel incredibly nauseous. Your face slowly contorted from one of shock to one of a statue. Stoic and cold. The only sound to be heard was the incessant rain pounding against the windows.
You had slowly made your way over to the couch. For fifteen minutes you sat on the soft leather couch. Fifteen fucking agonizing minutes of nothing but Jason trying to somehow make it right. He apologized many times. He tried comforting you. But you just sat there, eyes closed and ignoring everything he had done. His side of the couch seemed to grow heavier and heavier with every attempt.
It made him feel like a child again. When his mother would get upset with him, she would give him the silent treatment. It would go on for days on end, and he would beg and apologize for forgiveness.
He never told you that though.
What you guys were arguing about seemed so small now. Jason was always one to blow things out of proportion. At one point in time, it had been about you going out with Dick and Tim for the third day in a row. He was a bit envious of your relationship with the aforementioned. He just didn’t know if it was Dick and Tim he was jealous of or you.
Instead of trying to talk to you about staying home and spending time with him or hell, even inviting him out with you, he took out his irritation you. It had been a long day, and this had been the cherry on top. He made a snarky comment to try and start a fight. Unfortunately, you were one to try to talk it out. It only added fuel to the fire. It escalated to the current situation. He hadn’t meant for it to end up like this.
Why’d he have to break what he loved so much?
Finally, you made a noise. You took a deep breath in and bore into his eyes. Tears were threatening to spill from them any second. It felt he had been burned, and he had no one to blame but himself.
“Before you say anything, I am incredibly sorry. It was all just me in my head. I should have never said those things, and I don’t want to lose you over this. Please, please, please let me make it up to you.” He has never sounded so desperate before. But then again, he’s never cut you this deep. Your eyes had travelled down away from him. The lump in your throat was hard to swallow.
“Jason. You’re not going to lose me over this. You’re still all I want,” The tears had started to roll down your cheeks by now. Seeing you cry made his heart crush, and he couldn’t stop himself from scooting closer to you.
“But what you said had really hurt my feelings. And if you ever say something like that to me again, I’m going to leave and take some time for myself.” You warned through the tears. Seeing your lip quiver as you spoke was enough for him to engulf you in his arms.
“I promise if I ever say that again, you could smack me as hard as you can. I deserve it.” You let out a tearful laugh and shook your head. However, he was being dead serious. You buried yourself in his embrace.
“I forgive you this time. Just next time communicate with me. We’re partners. It’s me and you against the problem.” Hearing how sincere you were made his heart swell. It made him feel even more guilty for starting the argument with you. But if you could forgive him, then maybe he can forgive himself too.
“You’re right. I’m sorry for everything. I just…” He paused. It was difficult for him to talk about his feelings, but he trusted you. You were his whole world after all. “I just wanted to spend time with you alone. I had a hard today today, and you always manage to make me feel better.” He murmured. His cheeks were a soft pink color. No matter how long you guys had been together for, it was awkward for him to tell you about how he felt.
You pulled away from the embrace to look him in the eyes. A small smile was on your face and your cheeks were tear stained. Your eyes had never had more of a soft look in them as one of your hands cupped the side of his face. Your thumb had slowly grazing his cheek.
“Why didn’t you say so? I don’t mind canceling my plans for you.” The smile on your lips grew, and you leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. The rain had seemed to turn into a soft sprinkle. You got up from the couch and made your way to the kitchen. His eyes followed you, clearly confused on what you were doing.
“Come on, let’s just cook and watch something.” You called. A bright smile spread across his face as he followed your voice. It was simple idea but it meant the world that you had decided to forgive him. He wouldn’t say that arguing with you will never happen again, but he knew that no matter how frustrating the situation was, he’d never utter an insult to you again.
He loved you too much, after all.
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Text
Call It What You Want | Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (singer!reader)
Summary: You lost your reputation, but you gained something so much better.
Warning/s: angst, fluff later on, hostage situation, online bullying, hate comments, stalking, reader has a stalker, famous reader, mentions of guns and knives (light use too), marriage, pregnancy, about babies and birth, in this the song is referred to as Y/N's song (that's not true of course), pet names (pretty boy, gorgeous, love...), also skipped a few parts of the song (sorry)
Author's note: So reader basically entered her Reputation era, but with a happy ending. That's it.
Y/N - your name
Y/L/N - your last name
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My castle crumbled overnight
I brought a knife to a gunfight
They took the crown, but it's alright
All the liars are calling me one
Nobody's heard from me for months
I'm doing better than I ever was
The cold breeze of the night in the middle of the giant city as you walked perhaps wasn't doing doing you any favors at all. The coat that you wore wasn't really doing its job. It was supposed to keep you warm during the nights out like this one, but it was anything but. You felt yourself crossing your arms in hopes to pull your coat tighter to yourself so you could gain some warmth, but sadly it wasn't working.
With a disappointed, quiet sigh you swang the bag you had in front of yourself hunting for your keys as you walked along the secured parking lot. You passed a whole lot of cars as you continued to trash through your bad, but not one of those cars was yours.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally reached your car, the sound of your keychain juggling as you tried to get a hold of the key properly.
The whole time you were walking over to your car you felt an overwhelming sensation of the feeling that something, or rather someone, was following your every step. Panic was drowning you as you tried to get into your car as fast as you possibly could.
However, once you finally managed to put the key in due to your shaking hands, you felt a hand covering your mouth. The last thing you heard was your own terrified scream before you drifted into unconsciousness.
°
The coldness of the uncomfortable chair send a million of shivers down your spine. Your head was pounding so much that it started to be unbearable. At that moment you tried to bring your palm onto the side of your head, but you couldn't move your hands. At that moment you noticed the tight rope with which you were tied up in a chair.
You felt a sense of panic wash over you as you pulled against the ropes, but it was no use. It wasn't working like you hoped it would.
Suddenly, though, you heard a sound that you were sure would haunt you forever if you ever got out of there. The laugh of the person that took you hostage.
"Don't worry, my love," The vile man smiled at you. "Now you can finally be mine forever."
It sickened you.
The way he approached you, the way he slowly reached out to you to place his hand on your cheek as he talked to you. You felt like you could throw up at the sight of it alone.
"How- how did you..." your voice trembled as you spoke, trying to hold your ground, but to no use. "Why did you do this?"
"I've been watching you for a while, gorgeous," He said, rubbing circles against your cheek. "You are simply gorgeous, I just had to have a pretty thing like you."
You were terrified because at that moment you realized that it was over. You were never getting out of this. Your stalker would make your life a living hell just because of the way you looked and the fact that you did what you loved since you were a child.
He slowly let go of your cheek as he stepped back, not once breaking the eye contact with you. You couldn't help but let one tear slide down your cheek. It was over for you.
And just as you began to drown in your own sorrows, the door of the basement in which he held you were broken down.
"FBI!" Someone yelled out, the flash of the lights that filled the room were too bright, you couldn't see the FBI agents that entered. "Don't move!"
The guns were held up, surrounding your stalker who was, thankfully, weaponless.
Your head was hurting you even worse than it did before because of the flashing lights, but you had never felt a bigger sense of relief washing over you than at the moment when they forcefully entered and you felt someone moving to you.
"Are you okay, miss?" You turned your head slowly, in fear that your head was going to ache even more. The last thing that you wanted was to faint now.
"Y-Yes," You barely whispered to the man who was untying you as fast as he possibly could. "Thank you."
"Reid!" You heard another man shout, his voice ringing with authority. "Get her our of here now."
Perhaps you were still frozen from the shock, but you didn't know exactly how you suddenly got outside. You were sat down as the paramedics checked over you. Your head was still spinning and everything was hurting you, but it could've been worse.
At that moment, Spencer stood aside watching over you silently. He couldn't help himself. He simply couldn't help but to admire you as the paramedics did their job.
"What's up with you, pretty boy?" Derek came over to him, his voice hinting that he was really for teasing. "You have a crush on our singer, huh?"
"W-What? No, of course not." Spencer felt himself flush and Derek stared to laugh at the genius.
"Really?" Morgan mockingly put his hand on his chest to express that he didn't believe anything that came out of Spencer's mouth. "Because, if I'm being honest, pretty boy, your staring kind of gave it away."
Spencer was growing more red as the seconds passed. He kept quiet up until Derek stopped laughing and looked at him.
"You should ask her out." He suggested.
"I don't know." Spencer whispered so quietly that Morgan almost didn't catch it.
Before Morgan could say anything else the voice of one of the paramedics announced that you were free to go, and Spencer felt himself suddenly walk over to you without even realizing it as Morgan continued to watch with amusement.
"Hey."
You turned around at the sound of Spencer's voice and Spencer felt like his breath was knocked out of his lungs. Your eyes were sparkling brighter than the stars that covered the cold night sky and he felt himself getting flushed again.
"Am... I- I was wondering i-if you would like me t-to take you home." Spencer stuttered a bit as you made eye contact with him, listening to him speaking."
You smiled at him, he was truly, utterly gorgeous. "That's really sweet, but I don't want to bother you."
"Please, it would be a pleasure to make sure you come home safe."
And so, after a while, you accepted his request and made a promise in front of the door of your apartment to keep in touch with the FBI agent who saved your life and will continue to save your life for as long as there is air in his lungs and the stars in his eyes.
'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream
Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to
So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to
My baby's fly like a jet stream
High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new
So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to
After all that happened to you with your stalker that was now put into prison, you decided to dissappear from the public eye for a while. You yearned for a break that was much needed. But with the break that you publicly announced and a promise to dissappear for a while you had to be more careful.
The trips to the simple places like grocery stores were yet another opportunity to dress up so no one could possibly recognize you. At that time, the number of the baseball caps, and a whole bunch of oversized hoodies, seemed to drastically increase and it continued to do so.
But there was a minor slip-up after 6 months since you disappeared.
It was a surprisingly quiet night. Spencer returned from the case earlier and you decided to take a walk around the town after visiting a local coffee shop.
You were so wrapped up in each other, soaking up every moment you had with each other. Sharing a whole lot of stolen kisses, looks, his hand nested itself on your shoulders, sharing laughter and smiles, eyes spanking. They were full of happiness and utter joy every time you were with him.
What neither of you expected was for Penelope practically tearing down the whole conference room, almost breaking down the door the next day just so she could get to Spencer.
Spencer was sitting at his chair, looking over the files along with everyone else when he found himself being startled as he watched Penelope waving the newest copy of today's newspaper as she practically screamed in excitement.
He was rather confused by her suddenly excitement even though it wasn't unusual for her. But once he saw her slamming the newspaper in the middle of the desk he felt himself getting pale.
Spencer and you made a cover of today's news. The headline, written in overly dramatic big letters with the fine print, read "AFTER 6 MONTH SHE MADE AN APPERCEIVE! FAMOUS SINGER Y/N Y/L/N SEEN WITH A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER!!"
Just below the headline there was a picture of him and you from the night before. His arm was placed over your shoulders, bringing you closer to warm you up and keep you safe. His face was somehow, somewhat, covered by his hair because of the wind that couldn't be contained that night. Your hand was holding his that was slang over your shoulders. Your smile was radiant, your eyes shining as you kept your gaze on him. He couldn't help but smile a little at the photo.
"Explain yourself now, Spencer Reid!" Penelope shrieked, her voice getting higher each second. "What the hell are you doing with freaking Y/N Y/L/N!!"
He started stuttering so much, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation, but his nerves got the best of him. Suddenly, he felt a hand slapping his back sending him forward a bit as Morgan laughed.
"Good for you, pretty boy." Morgan smiled at him, teasingly. "Good for you."
All my flowers grew back as thorns
Windows boarded up after the storm
He built a fire just to keep me warm
All the drama queens taking swings
All the jokers dressin' up as kings
They fade to nothin' when I look at him
Pretty soon a year had passed since the hostage situation which included you being in danger.
A year since you met Spencer, a year of nothing but love and happiness.
Spencer opened the door of his apartment and held it like that so you could get into the apartment before him.
You stepped into the apartment, shaking the snowflakes that stuck to your head on this, quite cold, night in late November. You stood still for a moment, admiring Spencer as he removed his purple scarf before quickly lighting up the fire in the fireplace so that the warmth could spread around your home.
However, you noticed the slight change in his demeanor as you sat yourselfs on the couch near the fireplace. You, however, decided to not say anything because you knew that he would say what he wanted to once he was ready. You didn't want to put more pressure on him, but the plain fact that he was nervous made you extremely so, too.
Finally, Spencer took a deep breath before he turned to you.
"I know that this might seem sudden," Spencer started as he shyly looked into your concerned eyes that watched him talk carefully. "But I feel like I know you for longer than a year. I feel like I've known you my whole life. You complete me in every possible way one person can complete another. You bring immense joy in my life every single day. You show me that life and even people can be good every single day and I believe you despite all of the horrible things I see every day."
You were deeply touched by his confessed, but you were slightly confused because you could quite figure out as to why he was saying all of this to you right now.
"I can't imagine not waking up to you every moment," Spencer confessed, looking longingly into your eyes and you found yourself surprised when the sudden realization that he didn't stutter once drained on you. "I can't imagine seeing you every day, listening to your voice and admiring everything that you do."
Suddenly, he stood up and slowly lowered himself on one knee in front of you. He held out a small box in his hand before he continued to speak. You felt like you couldn't breathe once you realized what was about to happen, what was already happening.
"I simply can not imagine my life without you in it," Spencer continued as tears gathered in your eyes. "Will you make me the happiest man on this planet and marry me?"
"Yes!" You spoke up after you had gotten over your frozen state of shock. "Yes, of course I'll marry you, Spence!" You said, voice full of love as he slipped a beautiful ring onto your finger.
As you sat there by the fire, you knew that you had found the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The snow continued to fall outside, but you knew that nothing could beat the warm feeling in the apartment and in your heart.
And I know I make the same mistakes every time
Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right
I did one thing right
I'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers
Trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right
Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night
Two years flashes by to fast for you to keep up it seemed like.
Spencer and you got married as fast as you possibly could. You love each other more than anything and you were ready so you figured why not do it immediately. The life had been a bliss. And just when it seemed like it couldn't be better you found out that you were pregnant.
Spencer was overjoyed. He always wanted to have children, he always wanted to be a father. And now he could do it with the person he most loved, admired and cared for. He truly felt like passing out the moment he found out. And he did, but would always deny it with a blush glued to his face every time Morgan brought it up to tease him.
The moment your water broke all hell broke loose. Luckily, Spencer was at home so the only thing you had to do was to grab your hospital bag, keys and head to the car. You were 100% prepared for this.
However, you always felt like the moment it happened and it was finally time to go to the hospital you would be the one who would go into a panicked frenzy. So it was safe to say that you were genuinely surprised that once Spencer and you managed to stumble into the car and were on your way, you were the one who had the role of comforting the one who was in panic. Spencer was gripping the wheel so tightly you were scared that he would break it. It would be rather amusing if you weren't in so much pain already.
But after hours of labor and excruciating following hours of birth once you felt limp against the mattress, still holding onto Spencer's hand which you gripped so hard, but he never once complained, bless his heart, everything truly was worth it once you heard the loud yet at the same time soft cries of your baby girl.
Now, as you laid in the bed in another hospital room you couldn't move your eyes away from the sweet sight of Spencer sleeping in the chair right next to your bed with your baby girl in his arms. It was truly the sweetest sight you had ever witnessed. Spencer's messy hair was spread everywhere as his arms tightened around your little bundle of joy, but not to tightly to hurt her. The moment he got her in his arms, he wouldn't let her go. You guessed that he was afraid thay something unexpected would happen even though you gave your best to reassure him.
After hours of sleeping once you woke up, you could fall back asleep for some reason. Not that you complained.
You heard the door open and you turned your head that was still pressed against the pillow on the bed at the direction of the door. It was JJ, trying to enter as quietly as she possibly could while carrying a few cups of coffee.
"How are you, mama?" She whispered softly as he took a seat on another chair on the other side of your bed.
"Still a bit sore, but fine." You gave her a small smile that she softly returned. "I'm just so glad that this happened." You confessed quietly as you looked at JJ.
"I made a lot of mistakes in my life," You said as she listened to your every word. "But having our daughter with him... I know that I did one thing right."
I want to wear his initial
On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck
Not because he owns me
But 'cause he really knows me
Which is more than they can say, I
I recall late November
Holdin' my breath, slowly I said
"You don't need to save me
But would you run away with me?"
Yes (would you run away?)
A few months later another headline was released in many newspapers and magazines. There were a bunch of articles all over internet, too.
The newest addition of the People's magazine was laying on Penelope's dest by her screens. Derek soon enough entered the room with a curious look.
"Hey, baby girl," He greeted as he pressed a kiss on Penelope's cheek, looking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the newest addition of the magazine. "What are you up to?"
"Why hello handsome," she greeted with a smile before she brought the attention back to the magazine. "Look who made the cover."
And sure enough, on the front cover of the magazine, at the very top, there was a headline written with big, capital letters saying: Y/N Y/L/N MARRIED!? THE MUSIC STAR WAS SEEN WITH HER HUSBAND AND HER BABY OUT ON THE WALK FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!!"
Below the dramatic headline there was a picture of Spencer and you holding hands, dressed in warm clothes as you walked around the city on a cold, snowy November night. In front of you there was a stroller in which your daughter, Annie, was in. Your hand was quite visible along with the ring that was clearly a weeding ring. Spencer had his arm around your shoulder, showcasing his ring as well.
On the bottom of the cover there were some other news that were in slightly smaller font. You also released the new song after a long while. The song was called "Call It What You Want" and it said to turn the page 13 for the full lyrics and Derek did just that.
Penelope couldn't help but to let out a screech after she practically showed the magazine in his face. And just as Derek finished reading the lyrics to the song he couldn't help but to smile.
"Good for you, pretty boy," Derek pointed out, happily. "Good for you."
"Give me the magazine back," Penelope excitedly ordered him. "I'm gonna frame this now."
My baby's fit like a daydream
Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to
(Call it what you want, call it what you want, call it)
So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to
My baby's fly like a jet stream
High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new
(Call it what you want, call it what you want, call it)
So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to
Call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want
To
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unseededtoast · 6 months
Text
I Stayed There | Spencer Reid x F! Reader
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Summary: After an eye-opening case, Spencer realizes that his job puts you in too much danger. Loving you too much to put you in harm's way, he does the only thing he can think of that would ensure your safety. Years pass by slowly, and neither you nor Spencer are able to move on. Inspired by "Right Where You Left Me" by Taylor Swift.
Part Two: Take My Hand
Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!
WC:6.8k
Warnings: Angst. So much angst, and pining, and emotional turmoil. Perpetual heartbreak
a/n: So I finally managed to write about Spencer and it not be inspired by a Hozier song, and yes it's a little shorter than my norm but I think it works well. Anyways, this is the first oneshot I've written that has actually made me cry. And once again thank you for reading, you all deserve the world
"Spencer please, don't leave. Please." Your voice sounds foreign in your own ears, and he rests his hands on the handle, looking back to you one last time, an unrecognizable look on his face.
"I'm sorry." Is all he says before leaving for the last time.
You're left on your knees in the middle of the apartment, feet bleeding from the broken glass you stepped over, and heart shattering into a million irreparable pieces.
You anxiously look to the clock every two minutes, leg bouncing up and down as you anticipate your boyfriend, Spencer, walking back into your shared apartment after his assignment. He had texted you earlier in the day to let you know he would be home tonight, and so you took it upon yourself to deep clean the apartment and prepare his favorite meal. Spencer is always mentally and physically exhausted when he returns from a case, and so you want to make him as comfortable as you possibly can. He deserves it and it's the least you can do.
After five extremely long minutes, you hear the door open and stand from the couch with a smile on your face. Spencer looks less happy to be here, and your heart plummets; it must have been one hell of a case. Changing your approach, you calm your nerves and approach him, taking his coat and hanging it on the rack beside the door without a word. He drops his bag down beside the door and turns to you, engulfing you in a warm, tight hug.
"I missed you." You speak into his chest, feeling his lips press a kiss to the crown of your head.
"I missed you more." He says, and you hear the exhaustion and tension in his voice. You pull away from the hug and kiss his cheek, letting your thumb caress his cheekbone.
"I've got dinner ready for you, go get something comfortable on, baby." You rub his back and he nods, walking off to your room. In the meantime, you turn off the overhead light and opt for soft lighting tonight, turning on the tableside lamps and lighting his favorite scented candle on the coffee table. You make sure his dinner is warm, and pour him a glass of wine, so it's one less thing he has to think about tonight.
Moments later, he returns from the room, hair a little disheveled and eyes tired. Without a word, you pull out the seat for him, and he thanks you. You go to pour your own glass of wine and join him at the table, content with just being in his presence for the night. If he needs silence, that's exactly what you'll give him. His job is entirely stressful, and you don't want to add to that stress by asking a million different questions.
He eats dinner quietly, and you think he's almost avoiding your eye. But surely that's not the case, he's probably just tired. And when he's done you clear his plate for him and ask if he wants another glass, instead of looking at you, he just stares down at the tablecloth and shakes his head. Your heart sinks, but you remind yourself that you don't know what he just experienced on the job and deserves some grace.
By the time you two are ready for bed, you blow out the candle and turn off the lights, eager to be held by Spencer tonight after not having him home all week. You quietly enter the room, careful not to disturb his peace and get in next to him. You turn to face him, expecting to see his beautiful gem-colored eyes, but instead are met with the back of his head. Once again, your heart aches, thinking he had to have had one of the worst cases. In an attempt to comfort him, you reach an arm over him and hold him close. You can always be held another night, but tonight he needs this more than you.
While he doesn't wish you a goodnight, or give you a kiss, or even look at you, you drift off to sleep, just happy to have him back even if it's just for a few days.
-----
The next morning, you wake to find Spencer is already gone from the bed. Where he should be is an empty, cold space. You listen for him, but hear nothing, which is odd. Worried about him, you get up and rub your eyes before leaving bed to see where he is. As you go to walk out of the room, you notice that there are two packed bags by the bedroom door that most definitely were not there last night. Usually you two spend some time together in bed, catching up and kissing on each other. Something in the pit of your stomach tells you something is off, but you do your best to ignore it.
You walk out of the bedroom and see Spencer sitting alone at the dining table. He's already dressed for the day. Maybe he got put on another case already? Your mind fights to rationalize what's going on. Spencer looks up when he hears you walking towards him, and you see him swallow before looking back to the table. You feel nauseous, but take a seat next to him, mirroring your positions last night.
You reach out for his hands that are interlaced atop the table, but he pulls his hands away before you can make contact.
"What's going on honey?" Your voice shows your nerves plainly, and you're convinced he can hear your heart thumping out of your chest. He takes a breath and stands from the table. You follow suit and try to busy your mind with something, so you pick up the empty wine glasses to take to the sink, but his voice interrupts you.
"I don't want to be with you anymore." His words hang heavy in the air, and you can't believe what you heard. Surely, you had heard wrong, right?
"What?" You ask, palms getting clammy and eyes growing wide, searching his face for any indication that this is just some weird, twisted joke.
"I don't want to be with you anymore." He repeats, your mouth falls slack.
"I don't-what? Why?" Your mind is working overtime to make sense of all this, and you feel your eyes involuntarily water.
"I-I met someone else." He says and the glasses fall from your shaking hands, shattering all over the white tablecloth, remnants of wine staining the cloth. Your ears are ringing, throat constricting with emotion, chest burning as you start hyperventilating.
"Spencer what? I don't understand." Tears flow down your face and you ignore the glass, stepping towards him, but he backs away. You swear you see tears in his eyes but you can't be for sure, as tears blur your own vision. A pain on the bottom of your foot sends shivers up your spine but you can't be bothered to look at what happened.
"I met someone else, and I don't want to be with you anymore." He says again, hammering the sentiment into your brain. Spencer turns from you and goes to your bedroom, picking up the suitcases you saw.
You practically choke on your sobs, unable to grasp that this is reality. Never in a hundred years would you have imagined your Spencer would find someone else. There had been no signs, nothing even slightly out of the ordinary. How could this have happened? How could it have happened and you noticed nothing?
With red eyes and a steady stream of tears running down your face, you try one last time.
"Spencer please, don't leave. Please." Your voice sounds foreign in your own ears, and he rests his hand on the handle, looking back to you one last time, an unrecognizable look on his face.
"I'm sorry." Is all he says before leaving for the last time.
You're left on your knees in the middle of the apartment, feet bleeding from the broken glass you stepped over, and heart shattering into a million irreparable pieces.
-----
Two weeks later you find yourself sitting alone at a dimly lit table. Today would have been your third anniversary with Spencer, and you had made these reservations months in advance. But instead of the two of you sharing a romantic evening full of love, you sit alone.
You're thankful for the low lighting in the restaurant, so that people aren't openly able to see the rogue tears that fall down your face in uneven intervals; emotions come and go like tidal waves. The waitress comes and refills your glass, giving you a sympathetic smile as she leaves.
She probably thinks you're pathetic for sitting here alone, spending hours in this one spot. The same spot where you and Spencer had come together in the first place. Your first date had been here and the two of you had been seated at this very table. The memory is still vivid in your mind, you can see the light reflecting in Spencer's eyes as he reached for your hand across the table, can still remember the cologne he wore. In fact, you're convinced that if you close your eyes you'd be able to reach out and feel him.
Throughout the evening all you can do is sip your wine and stare at the empty seat across from you, oblivious to the world around you. All you can think about is how tonight should be. Spencer should be here with you, sharing an appetizer and picking something from the menu you both like, so that you can share. You should be confessing your undying love to him, thanking him for another amazing year together and reminiscing on how far you two have come.
But instead your mascara is smudged and you're on your fourth glass of wine, alone, in the middle of a busy restaurant that's teeming with life.
You see a couple walk into the restaurant and your throat constructs with emotion. The smiles on their faces makes your heart drop, and you can't help but feel sorrow and jealously in some intricate tangle together. The woman laughs, her eyes crinkling in the corners.
Unable to handle the sight, you down the rest of your wine and leave a sizable amount of cash on the table before leaving, running a finger below your eyes so people can't see your tears. You don't want their sympathy, don't want to hear how they take pity on you.
Your feet carry you through the streets, taking the familiar path to the local park where you sit on a wooden bench. The crisp breeze sends chills up your spine, but you wrap your hands close to your body and stare at the leaves in various stages of color change.
To your right is an empty field, and it's where you and Spencer used to come for spring and summertime picnics. Usually on a weekend after he had a case, the two of you would pack up some snacks and lounge at the park for the afternoon, enjoying the beautiful weather and soaking in the comforts of each other. You never realized just how much those moments meant until they ceased altogether.
Eventually, you make your way back to the apartment. It hasn't changed a bit in two weeks, you've left everything as it was. Spencer's books are still adorning the shelves, his products still lay on the bathroom counter, and his coat still hangs from the rack beside the door. You suspect they'll be gone one day, you know him well enough to understand how he values his books. And when that day comes, you know you'll leave the apartment and give him ample time to pack up, leaving you with a nearly empty apartment. Truthfully, you never want that day to come but you know it's looming over you like an angry storm cloud.
You strip from the dress you had forced yourself to wear to the restaurant and slip one of Spencer's shirts over your head, taking in the scent and committing it to memory, as if you could ever forget it. The dark bedroom invites you to bed and you crawl in, hand lingering on the spot where Spencer should be, kissing you goodnight. But instead, you lay there alone, just like every night since he left and like every night that's to come.
-----
"What's up with you kid?" Derek asks Spencer, who's been staring out of the jet's window, uncharacteristically quiet. Spencer sighs and looks at Derek, who has a quizzical look on his face.
"I'm fine, just thinking about the unsub." Spencer lies right through his teeth, but Derek isn't buying it. Spencer's actions for the past two weeks has been peculiar, and everyone has noticed but nobody's asked. Until now.
"Now don't give me that. I know something is wrong." Derek's voice is quiet, as to not put Spencer on the spot in front of the whole team. A silence passes between them before Spencer leans forward in his seat. His eyes are tired, dark circles adorn his under eyes.
"We broke up." Is all Spencer says. Truthfully, he'd rather not get into everything, the wound is still fresh and Spencer's still trying to come to terms with the decision he made.
"What do you mean you broke up?" Derek is surprised, his voice raising ever so slightly. Spencer rubs his hands together.
"After the last case I realized that my job puts her in more danger than I thought. When the unsub had pictures of her hanging in his room alongside us, I couldn't let her be a target anymore." Spencer's voice breaks and a tear runs down his cheek. This is the first time he's admitted to someone what had happened, and it brings all of the emotions to the forefront of his mind again. Derek rests a hand on Spencer's knee and gives him a heartfelt look, eyes soft and full of understanding.
"And when I left I had told her I met someone else. I knew if I told her the truth that she'd be able to talk me out of leaving. But if she thought I had found someone else I knew she'd be too kind and wouldn't interfere. She loves me so much that she would sacrifice her own happiness for mine. And the worst part is that she bought it all so easily, she really thinks I could ever replace her." Tears fall down Spencer's face and he chokes on his own breath as he spills it all to Derek, whose own heart breaks at the confession.
Without another word, Derek brings Spencer in for a hug, and for once Spencer doesn't mind the contact. In fact, he's grateful for it.
-----
The ground is now covered in a thick blanket of snow. Frost decorates the corners of the windows, and the apartment that should be full of comforting warmth is only full of coldness and despair.
Christmas is two days away and you hadn't even bothered to put up the tree this year. There's no reason to celebrate or get excited. Everything you had loved and cherished about the season is gone, vanished into thin air. The past two years you and Spencer had hosted a dinner party for all of your friends. It was always a good time, a time where everyone came together with hearts full of love and generous spirits.
But this year you're sat at the dining room table, staring at a limited edition copy of The Hobbit you had found from an antiques dealer six months ago. It's one of the early prints and is in great condition for its age. You knew Spencer would love it and so you bought it without regard of the price. Seeing the happiness on his face would've been worth every penny and more.
After staring at it for hours, you grab the fragile book and slide it in one of the bookshelves. Your heart constricts but you're unable to produce tears anymore. It's like your insides have frozen over, and while you still feel, you never react to it anymore. The dull ache in your chest is a permanent fixture in your life now. One day you woke up and couldn't even cry anymore. It's like you've become a shell of your former self, a statue sentenced to life.
The lights are off in the apartment, the overcast light seeping in through the curtains, giving you all the light you need. You end up on the couch, curling up in Spencer's favorite blanket and stare outside at the people passing by. They're all holding gifts and dishes of food with smiles on their faces, likely heading to visit family.
Your phone rings in the bedroom, but you can't be bothered to go get it. There's nobody you're in a particular mood to talk to anyways, except for one man, but you know he'll never call you again. After a few minutes, the ringing ceases, but begins again only seconds after it stops. Like last time, you let it continue ringing. You've no family left, and the friends you do have all gradually began distancing themselves after Spencer left. They told you that they were there to support you, but eventually they were unable to handle your solemn mood and just quit trying.
As the limited sunlight begins disappearing for the night, you drag yourself off the couch and begin getting ready for bed. You brush your teeth and stare at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes are dull and sunken, dark circles painting your undereyes. Your cheekbones have become more pronounced, your overall expression sullen. At this point you can't even recognize yourself.
Before you can pull the covers over top of you, there's a knock at the door. Your heart hammers in your chest and you begin running through every possible scenario, a mix of emotions flurrying through your system. Curious, you get out of bed and answer the front door, seeing Derek Morgan on the other side with a box in his hands. His signature smile is on his face, and you lean against the doorframe, confused about why he's here. You haven't talked to Derek since before Spencer left, and surely Spencer made it known that he's with someone else now.
"Derek?" You ask, studying his appearance. Nothing about him has changed, really.
"Can I come in?" He asks, and you glance over your shoulder, suddenly self conscious about the state of the apartment. It's not that it's unclean, it's just that Spencer's things are still everywhere. But maybe that's why he's here, maybe Spencer wants his things back and Derek is just here to tell you.
"Of course." Your voice is quiet and you open the door for him to step through. He looks around, and you move to turn on a lamp so he can see without tripping over a rug. Derek places the box on the counter and turns to face you.
"No Christmas tree?" He asks. You should've expected nothing less from a profiler. Cracking the faintest of smiles, you shake your head.
"Not this year. And um, not sure if you heard but there's no party this year." You hate how defeated you sound, but it's a true reflection of your physical and mental state. Just dejected and numb. Nervously, you start playing with the skin around your fingers.
"I know. I just wanted to come by and see you." Derek says, nothing but kindness in his eyes. Your heart swells at the sentiment. Derek and you had always gotten along together quite well, and you considered him the BAU member, besides Spencer, that you connected with the best.
"That's very kind of you Derek." Your voice cracks from emotion, but you try to play it off as you clearing your throat. "Can I get you some water?" You follow up, feeling rude for not having offered him anything.
"Water would be great, thank you." He takes you up on your offer and moves to sit at the kitchen island. You set the glass in front of him and lean on the other side of the island, waiting for him to tell you that Spencer wants his belongings back. You knew this day would come, but you never wanted it to.
"Why did you really come here?" You find the nerve to just ask him, growing tired of beating around the bush. Derek takes a sip of water before sighing,
"I hadn't heard from you in a long time, and it's Christmas. I missed you. Oh, and I got you this." He says and slides the small box across the counter to you. Feeling blood rush to your face, you fiddle with the ribbon on top.
"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything, I really wasn't expecting anyone." You're embarrassed that you have nothing to give back, but he shakes his head, dismissing your sentiment and urging you to open the box.
Untying the ribbon and lifting the top of the box, you see a beautifully crafted bookmark inside. It's a clear bookmark with colorful pressed flowers preserved within the thin layers of resin. You turn the bookmark around in your fingers and smile up at Derek.
"Thank you, this is beautiful." You place the bookmark back in the box and walk around the island to give Derek a hug. The words on the tip of his tongue die; there's no good reason to tell you that the gift was from Spencer, and that he asked Derek to give it to you as if it were from him.
His arms wrap around you, and it's the first physical contact you've felt since Spencer. While it's just a friendly gesture, it evokes something within you, and you can't help but start crying in Derek's arms.
"Hey hey hey, what's going on?" Derek holds you at arms length and looks worriedly at you. You feel pathetic to have to admit to him what's going on, but you trust Derek enough to know that he won't patronize you for this.
"I miss him so much. He should be here with me." Is all you can say before sobs wrack your body once more. It seems you can still cry after all.
Derek is patient with you, and he stays for hours, giving you some much needed company. You tell him about the day Spencer left through broken cries, and you tell him that you're not able to move out of this apartment; this is the only thing you have left to hold onto. If you lose this apartment, and everything in it, you fear that eventually the memories of Spencer will fade from your mind, and the thought of that is enough to send you spiraling. You don't want to forget Spencer. No matter how badly he hurt you, he's the one true love of your life. And you're not interested in finding someone else or moving on, because you know you could never love that deeply again.
-----
"You coming with us?" Emily asks Spencer, packing up her belongings for the end of the day. The rest of the team is going out for celebratory drinks, but Spencer doesn't want to join, knowing he will likely bring down the mood. And besides, he would rather get back to his place and read a book or something to distract himself from reality.
"No thanks, I'll uh, I'll come next time." He declines, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.
"Oh no you don't, you said that last time." Penelope says, coming out from her office to join in on the Friday night activities. The air is still cold outside, but the snow is basically gone for the season, or so everyone hopes.
Knowing he's already lost this argument, Spencer gives in and joins the group at the bar for drinks to celebrate another case closed. He sits at the end of the table, swirling his straw around in the glass, watching as the ice cubes slowly melt away. The rest of the team goes on and on about their weekend plans, but he tunes them all out.
"Hey you with us?" Someone waves a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance. Spencer blinks a few times before giving JJ an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, just kinda lost in my own head." He says and she claps a hand on his shoulder and forces Spencer to look at the bar.
"See those girls over there? Pick one and go talk to them. It'll be good for you." She says, and while Spencer knows she's only trying to help, the thought of talking to any woman in a remotely romantic sense makes him feel nauseous. Spencer shakes his head,
"I'm good." He says, but JJ won't give it up. Derek tries to tell her to knock it off, but she's determined for some reason to get Spencer back out into the dating scene. After a few more attempts from JJ, Spencer finally stands from his chair.
"I'm sorry, I can't do this. I don't want any of them. I'll see you all on Monday." His words are rushed and he's already moving towards the door before anyone can stop him. The fresh air on his face is refreshing, and he starts walking aimlessly, trying to distract himself from anything but thoughts of you.
Since he had left you, Spencer had rented out a small apartment, only a few streets away. He was unable to move any farther than that, still feeling the need to keep some sort of tabs on you, just to be sure that you're safe. Sometimes he'd purposely walk past and try to see up into the window, hoping to get just a glimpse of you, but you always had the curtains closed. And he had been vigilant in making sure you hadn't moved out. He asked Penelope to monitor the rental status. While he misses his belongings, he knows that everything is well taken care of with you, and if you ever decided to sell or get rid of his things, he's already made arrangements to anonymously get them.
Spencer glances down at his watch as he walks in the brisk early spring air and decides to take a detour before returning to his new apartment. He finds himself at the park where he remembers the shared picnics, simpler and happier times. He makes his way to the bench the two of you always sat at, and he feels like the air has been kicked out of his lungs. There on the bench, you sit, oblivious to his presence behind you.
He should've known that you might be here. After all, it is your birthday, and the two of you always came here on your birthday. You always insisted that you make the first trip of the year to the park on your birthday. He watches as your hair blows in the breeze and he wants nothing more than to go to you, to feel your soft hair in his hands once again, to have your arms embrace him, to have your sweet kisses lingering on his lips.
But he knows that things are better this way, with him out of your life. You're safer this way, he reminds himself. If you're alive and safe, that is good enough for him. He figures that eventually you'll find someone else and live a happy and fulfilling life with them, and he wants that for you. While he wishes he could share that life with you, he understands that his lifestyle is not conducive with that happening.
Spencer turns and walks away, leaving you at the bench by yourself.
-----
Another year has passed, and you find yourself in a familiar seat, drinking a familiar wine, wearing a familiar dress. Today would have been your fourth anniversary with Spencer. You had made the reservation, needing to cling to something. You understand that this is pathetic and sad, but you can't help it.
Just like last year, you can remember Spencer's hand reaching for yours, but this time you have a hard time remembering how soft his hand was in yours. You can't quite recall the multitude of colors in his eyes. The realization that you own memory is betraying you sends chills throughout your body. First it was his scent fading from the bedsheets, then it was not being able to recall how raspy his voice sounded in the mornings, and now you can barely remember the feel of him.
You feel hollow inside with the new development, and down the rest of the wine in your glass. The seat across from you is empty, but you force your mind to remember what he was wearing the first time you two had a date here. His shirt was white and he was wearing a purple tie, the sleeves were pushed to his elbows and his hair was just every so slightly messy, but in an endearing way.
Content with the memory, you drink one more glass of wine before leaving a generous amount of cash on the table and going back to the apartment. When you step outside, the rain is coming down at a steady pace, but you can't seem to care that you'll be soaking wet by the time you get back to the apartment. In fact, the cold water droplets remind you that you can still feel something. For so long you've forgotten what it feels like to have emotion other than numbness.
When you get back to the apartment, you lock the door behind you and go through the motions. The wet dress takes residence on the bathroom floor and you figure you'll get around to picking it up later. Your mind is occupied on recalling as much as you can, the realization that things are fading sends you into a mild panic.
You move from room to room, making yourself remember at least one thing about each room. In the bathroom you remember watching Spencer get ready for work in the mornings through sleepy eyes and admiring how handsome he looked in his work attire. You always told him that he was the most beautiful man on Earth, and he was quick to tell you that you were the most gorgeous woman on Earth, kissing the tip of your nose before he left for the day.
The bedroom reminds you of the times Spencer's hands caressed every curve of your body. How he would kiss every square inch of you, how it felt like you two were made for each other. His fingers would always entwine themselves with yours as he kissed on your neck, the two of you moving your bodies in heated tandem.
In the living room you remember curling up together, cuddling underneath the blankets in the soft light, each reading and quietly enjoying the presence of the other. Of course, Spencer would always finish his book before you got to chapter three of yours, but once he was done, he would always lay his head in your lap and you would play with his curls as you took your time. His eyes would always flutter shut and eventually he'd fall asleep. You never had the heart to wake him up, so you would end up spending an uncomfortable night on the couch, but beyond happy to be tangled up with him.
The kitchen reminds you of the time he accidentally burnt toast. You were never quite sure how he managed to do it, but you thought it was sweet he was trying to make you breakfast in bed for Valentine's Day. Spencer had planned an elaborate day full of romance and he was determined to let you be taken care of for once. He had given you a full body massage, created a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and taken you to your favorite ice cream shop.
The front entryway of the apartment reminds you of all the mornings you saw Spencer off to work, fixing his perpetually crooked ties before giving him a kiss on the cheek and telling him to save the day. His face would always blush when you kissed him goodbye, and he would always tell you that he'd be back soon and not to miss him too much.
When the memories fade, you find yourself standing alone in the middle of the apartment, just like it's been for over a year now. Your eyes are trained on the dining room table, specifically at the pink stain that soaked into the white cloth, reminding you when time stopped.
You wonder about the other woman he found, if they're happy, if he's happy. You wonder what she's like, how she's similar and different from you. You hope she's making him the happiest man alive, it's what he deserves. You know he's taking the best care of her, giving her his undivided attention and sweet gestures. Does she know his favorite dessert? His favorite sock combination? You wonder if she's found the sensitive spot on his neck, just below his ear.
-----
Spencer sits at his desk, staring at the incident report that lays in front of him. Usually he would have this complete in less than twenty minutes, but this particular report is causing him some issues. It was no secret to anyone on the team that this case had struck a nerve with Spencer, it was obvious from his treatment of the unsub and in the way he tirelessly worked this case.
Sure, since the break up Spencer had thrown himself into his work, but not like this. Hotch, Morgan, and Emily all noticed a spark of light come back into his eye, like he had real purpose again. He was always attentive to each case, but this one hit particularly close to home. The victims looked eerily similar to you. In a way, Spencer felt like he was protecting you from the unsub.
Breaking him out of his thoughts, Morgan sits on the edge of his desk and closes the file so Spencer has no choice but to give him undivided attention. Derek had been keeping in contact with you all this time, unbeknownst to Spencer, and he knows just how much each of you are suffering without each other. At first he had hope that they would both take their time to mourn and then move on, but neither of you have.
"I met this girl the other day, she invited me on a double date with her friend. The only catch is that I have to bring a friend as well. What do you say?" Derek proposes, hoping that by some miracle, Spencer will agree. If you and Spencer aren't going to reconcile, then he's going to take matters into his own hands and help each of you move on with life. Spencer shakes his head.
"I'm good, thank you though." Derek bites the inside of his cheek, feeling frustration bubble within him. If only he could open Spencer's eyes to see the situation the way he does.
"Come on man, it's been almost two years now and you haven't even looked at someone with even a tiny bit of interest." Derek recalls that this conversation with you went the same way. You had shot him down immediately, pulling out every possible excuse as to why you couldn't go with him.
"I'm just not interested, sorry." Spencer says, trying to open the file once again, but Derek stops him from doing so.
"I'm saying this as your friend. You either need to move on or go get her back. If you don't you're going to be stuck like this forever." Spencer's eyebrows furrow and his jaw sets tensely, his eyes move slowly to meet Derek's.
"She can never be replaced. And like I've told you before, she's safer without me in the picture." Spencer feels his throat tighten as he imagines what it would be like to have you back in his arms. Derek shakes his head, and tries to keep his cool.
"And who's to say she's not suffering just as bad as you are?" With that, Derek gets off of Spencer's desk and leaves him alone with his thoughts.
Spencer always thought that you would eventually move on. In fact, he assumed that you had because it's been close to a year since Penelope or Morgan brought you up. He had taken their silence as an indicator that you've been doing better. Spencer knows you're still in the apartment, he knows Penelope would've told him that much.
The thought of you sharing intimate moments with another man in the same apartment the two of you shared makes Spencer sick to his stomach. Imagining another man's hands on your body, his lips on yours, your love showering him, makes Spencer's heart contort in pain. But Derek's words contradict everything Spencer had assumed. Is it true, could you possibly be living in as much pain as he is?
After work, Spencer takes the long way back to his apartment, detouring to go past your apartment. He stands where he can see the window, and this time you have the curtains pulled open to let in some natural light. He stands there for hours, hoping to see you walk past. And eventually, his patience pays off. As the sun begins to set he sees you walk to the window to close the curtains.
Spencer can see even from this distance that you're not yourself. Your hair looks like it's gone without its usual care, your clothes look like they've been picked out with no care. And you always took pride in your appearance, you always wanted to look good and you loved expressing yourself through fashion.
You close the curtains without spotting him across the street, and his heart sinks when he can no longer see you. That tiny glimpse was enough to show him that Derek wasn't lying. There isn't anyone new in your life, if there were, he would be able to tell from the way you carried yourself.
Emotions wage a battle inside of Spencer, feeling confliction he hasn't felt since the day he left you. On one hand, he misses you dearly. In fact, there's nothing more he wants from life than to be able to feel your touch one more time. But on the other hand, he remembers the twisted unsub that had targeted you alongside the rest of the team. And he knows that it's possible for something like that to happen again.
Spencer reminds himself that he would never be able to live if something had happened to you. That if some sick individual targeted you again, and was successful in carrying out their plan, that he would not be able to go on. He knows that if he stays out of your life, then you have the best odds of living a happy life. He knows that his job put a strain on you, though you would hide it well. He knows you missed him terribly, worried about him constantly; and you endured all of it because you loved him more than anything. And he loves you too much to make you continue that lifestyle.
He convinces himself that one day you will move on and that you will be happy. With one last fleeting look towards the window, he turns and goes back to his apartment, where he's sure he will dream of nothing but memories of you.
-----
Your eyes are glued to the television in front of you, not believing what you're seeing. A press conference is being replayed on the news about some case the FBI is working. They're calling out to the public for any helpful information. And you feel bad for the victim, but you can't focus as you stare at a familiar face to the side.
Spencer stands straight, face serious as the blonde on the screen goes over important facts. You notice he's grown his hair out, that he's filled out a little more, but his tie is still crooked. Your teeth bite the skin of your lip to keep it from trembling. This is the first you've seen him since he left four years ago.
You know it's pathetic, that you've devolved into something you don't recognize, but you don't seem to care. After the night Spencer left, your life had lost its light and you never were able to find a reason to try moving on. Derek tried to help in the beginning, but after a while he stopped trying; he still comes around every once in a while to keep you company but you see the pity in his eyes.
Your fingertips graze the screen, as if you'd be able to feel Spencer through the television. His eyes flicker towards the camera as your fingers ghost over his face and it's enough to send a tear down your cheek. The television switches to another story and you get yourself off the couch and you pour yourself a healthy glass of wine.
Sitting at the dining room table, your mind replays that fateful morning again and again. After all this time you still hold nothing but absolute love for him and you wish that any day he would knock on the door.
But until that day comes, if it ever does, you'll stay here, right where it all happened, right where he left you.
Part Two: Take My Hand
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