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gubsbuubs · 4 months

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Trophy wife

Pt. 2 is out - It´s Mutual

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4.5K

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kissing and petting, enemies to lovers, a set up for a smut. Summary: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. As they navigate a high-stakes operation, tensions escalate, blurring the lines between their professional and personal animosity.

Preview: "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction. I initially wanted to write smut, but to add depth, I decided to craft this background story. English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

“Are those poker chips?” Derek asked as the images from the most recent crime scene appeared on the screen behind Garcia.

"Bingo, my lucky charm! Those are poker chips, and you've hit the jackpot," Garcia continued. “This is the second woman to be found in a motel room stabbed and extremely beaten in the last two weeks.”

“The Vegas police have requested our help,” Hotch informed as he analyzed the pictures.

Ross quirked up his eyebrows as an amused smile played on his lips. "Well, either he really likes poker, or he's on a mission to prove that crime can be a high-stakes game…"

"Well, he's certainly raising the stakes in our investigation," I added, my remark eliciting another round of chuckles.

"Children, behave, please," JJ attempted to redirect the team's focus to the situation at hand.

As I scanned the pictures, my index finger reached above the image on the table. "The persistent appearance of poker chips as a signature strongly suggests a connection to the unsub’s personal experiences, perhaps indicating a deep involvement with poker, possibly even as a player. Maybe…”

“While symbolism is intriguing, we should prioritize empirical evidence. Jumping to conclusions based on perceived patterns might lead us astray." My brows furrowed in annoyance as I turned my head, hearing him cut off my train of thought. His tone carried a subtle bitterness, as if questioning the validity of my analysis.

And there he fucking was again, Dr. Spencer Reid, incessantly questioning my every move, as if my mere presence irked him to no end.

Our "relationship," if you could really call it that, was basically just a constant back-and-forth of arguing, interruptions, and tension you could practically cut with a knife. We tried to keep it professional for the team's sake, but it was obvious we weren't exactly best buds.

And what kept his skepticism going wasn't just about work competition; it was personal. He had this lingering grudge because I had stepped in after his buddy, Alex Blake, bailed on the BAU, leaving him behind.

To be honest, his animosity seemed mostly one-sided. At first, I admired Spencer's intellect and respected his dedication to the job. Plus, let's be real, I wasn't blind—I definitely noticed he was a good-looking guy. But his hostility kind of pushed me to throw up walls and respond with a guarded attitude. And then, well, naturally, I found some twisted enjoyment in getting under his skin and making him lose his cool.

"How can you have an IQ of 182 and yet be so clueless?" I scoffed, laughing. "Sure, you're intelligent, but common sense seems to elude you at times."

Reid stared for a moment, a mix of shock and rage flickering across his otherwise monotone, expressionless face. His eyes narrowed, and he responded curtly, "It's 187, and (Y/N), I would advise you to mind your manners when addressing me. My intelligence surpasses yours by far more than a number could explain." As he stood there, staring into my eyes, arms crossed by the presentation board, a surge of irritation pulsed through me. I was poised to respond, the words itching at the tip of my tongue, but before I could unleash them, Derek intervened. With a subtle shift in his posture, he leaned in towards the table, effectively redirecting our focus. A deliberate clearing of his throat signaled the shift in conversation. "The sheer brutality of these killings unmistakably points to an unsub fueled by intense rage. The way the victims were forcefully and repeatedly stabbed suggests a perpetrator with considerable physical strength and stamina.”

"The messy and disorganized scene adds another layer to the unsub's profile. Women just tend to be cleaner, so we are definitely dealing with a man,” JJ added.

“They are waiting for us, we can discuss the rest of the preliminary profile on the jet, wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said as he stood up, the team following right after.

--x--

As I focused on the files spread out in front of me, the sound of the door swinging open abruptly pulled my attention away. "We've got another body," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the silence that lingered in the small meeting room lent to us by the Las Vegas police.

By now, we had successfully linked the unsub to the world of poker. Our victims, all married, had been last seen with their partners at casinos during poker nights, forming a clear pattern. Despite our breakthroughs, the mystery surrounding his identity and motive remained unsolved.

"Rebecca Miller, 29 years old, was last seen with her husband at Riverside Casino," Hotch added, his tone steady as he placed the picture of the victim on the board. "Witnesses report they were very affectionate. Her husband mentioned she went to get them drinks before she disappeared," he continued, his gaze scanning the room, inviting any additional insights or comments from the team.

"She definitely fits the victimology—young, beautiful, and married to an avid poker player," JJ remarked casually as she got up to take a closer look at the picture.

Rossi gazed into the distance, lost in thought. "They must be raking in serious cash playing poker. Why else would these stunners be tying the knot with someone clearly out of their league?" he mused aloud.

As I scanned the pictures of the victims, a realization began to form in my mind. Each photograph depicted a strikingly beautiful woman, always beside her husband, who often appeared much older or less attractive in comparison. "They're trophy wives," I exclaimed, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

I glanced to my left, where Reid stood, scoffing and shaking his head. "Trophy wives?" he immediately questioned, his focus remaining fixed on the board as he continued drawing lines for the geographical profile.

"Well, think about it," I elaborated, gesturing toward the pictures of the women. "These women, young and beautiful, carefully curated for a certain image, accompanying their husbands to the poker games, spending the entire night all over them. How had we not seen this glaring pattern before?"

"That's a rather simplistic and uninformed view, (Y/LN)," he countered. "These women had successful careers. Assuming they're merely trophy wives diminishes their individuality."

"Just because they have successful careers doesn't negate the potential of being used as accessories," I countered, locking eyes with Reid as he turned to face me. "It's not about undermining their achievements but acknowledging the potential for a specific dynamic in their relationships. We need to explore all possibilities, not just those that fit neatly into your rational worldview."

"Acknowledging possibilities is one thing, but chasing baseless theories is another," Reid retorted, his tone measured. "We can't afford to indulge in wild conjectures without solid evidence."

"Sometimes you're so buried in your 'facts' that you miss the human element of the cases," I remarked, chuckling dismissively as I shook my head to the side.

"It's called objectivity, (Y/LN)," he asserted, stepping closer until he stood before me, his hands slipping into his pockets in a gesture of dominance. "Something you might want to consider before letting personal biases cloud your judgment."

"I'm the one who lets personal biases cloud my judgment?!" I retorted, my voice rising as frustration bubbled up within me.

He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"You've got to be kidding me," I continued, my tone escalating gradually. "You're the one who's been acting like a little bitch to me since I joined the team, so don't lecture me about taking things personally here."

Still, he said nothing, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.

"You've had a problem with me from day one," I pressed on, "and it's about damn time you admit it instead of acting like such a child about it."

"This is about doing our job objectively," Reid retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "Your presence doesn't change the standards we uphold in the BAU, but clearly you don’t meet them."

"That's enough!" Hotch's voice boomed, commanding attention as he intervened. His gaze shifted from Reid to me, a subtle warning in his eyes. "I think we should explore that possibility," he acknowledged, nodding towards my earlier suggestion. "It seems reasonable. Apart from that, are there any more leads we need to consider?"

Spencer turned on his feet, his movements purposeful as he approached the board. "Actually, I've been working on the geographical profile," he began "And it seems that, looking at the last victim’s place of abduction, he is moving in a straight line." With a marker in hand, he started drawing on the board, "Look at this: the first victim was last seen at the Lotus Casino Central, the second victim at the Charlaton, and now Rebecca at the Riverside. It's a straight line, which means..."

"He's heading for the Bellagio next," JJ chimed in, seamlessly connecting the dots of Spencer's thoughts. Spencer nodded in confirmation, acknowledging her insight.

Rossi rose from his seat and joined Spencer by the board. "Now that we know where he's likely to strike next, perhaps we can set up an operation to catch him; he’s been striking on poker nights."

Hotch leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considered the strategy. After a moment of contemplation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the team. "Yes, an undercover op might be our next chance." His gaze fell on me, lingering for a moment as he addressed me directly. "Y/n," he began,"You have experience as an undercover agent, and you actually resemble the victims," he observed, "Would you mind going in?" The room fell silent as the weight of the proposition settled among us.

"Yeah… sure," I responded quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Derek immediately sensed my apprehension and offered reassurance with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going in alone. It has to be a couple, so you'll have someone to have your back."

"Can you come with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

"Actually," Hotch interrupted, straightening in his chair, "I want Reid to go with you." My head fell into my hands as I sighed, dreading the complications that might arise. The weight of Hotch's decision settled heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of partnering with Reid for this undercover operation.

"Sir, with due respect," Spencer began, but Hotch raised his hand to stop him from continuing.

"(Y/N) needs a poker player husband; you’re the only one who could actually pass as an avid poker player," Hotch explained simply, as if it were that straightforward. "I trust you can both behave professionally and put your differences aside?" His tone sounded more like an order than a question.

"Let's get to work then," Rossi said, his tone decisive, as I let my head rest on the table. It dawned on me that this was the only option to ever catch this guy.

--x--

JJ pulled out all the strings, ensuring we had everything necessary to play our roles seamlessly. With meticulous attention to detail, she provided a stunning black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, matching pumps that elongated my legs, and exquisite jewelry that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Among the glittering gems, she placed an engagement ring and wedding band, enhancing the authenticity of our charade.

As I admired my reflection in the mirror, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. The thought of spending the upcoming night with Spencer made my heart race, a strange feeling stirring within me.

My mind constantly drifted towards the way we were supposed to behave, thoughts swirling with anticipation. I imagined his touch, knowing that as a couple, he would have to be close, his hands possibly lingering on my body. How would it feel? Would I be able to maintain eye contact as he stared me down during our conversations?

I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Despite this being an undercover mission, it felt strangely intimate, as if I was gearing up for a date with him. The prospect of going out and spending time with Spencer was something I'd never experienced before, and it left me feeling nervous, even though I couldn't quite admit it to myself.

Maybe if things hadn't unfolded as they did, Spencer and I could've found common ground. Perhaps we could've forged a genuine connection, evolving into friends, or even something more meaningful. But fate had a different plan for us.

From the moment we crossed paths, our destinies seemed entwined in conflict rather than harmony, and I remember the day I met him all too well. We had just finished the tour, and Derek was now showing me to my desk.The ding of the elevator caught my attention, and there he stood. I've heard of Dr. Reid, everyone talked about him – his genius IQ of 187, his remarkable accomplishments at such a young age. But amidst all the praise for his intellect, no one ever mentioned how good-looking he actually was.

"Pretty boy," Derek exclaimed with a grin as he welcomed him. I couldn't help but agree silently. It was indeed a fitting nickname, Spencer was undeniably attractive. "Come meet our new member, Y/n Y/Ln."

With a smile I reached out my hand instinctively, ready to greet him, but to my surprise, he took a light step back. "Sorry, I don't shake hands," he said dismissively, his tone somewhat curt. "Did you know that the average person carries about 4,000 bacteria on their hands? It's a breeding ground for germs. It's actually safer to touch a toilet seat."

I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Did he genuinely suggest that touching a toilet seat is cleaner than shaking my hand? "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Agent Reid," I retorted, rolling my eyes as Derek chuckled at the situation.

"It's Doctor, not Agent," he corrected, his tone matter-of-fact as he swiftly made his way to his desk. My mind raced, attempting to conjure a response, but he had already moved on, leaving me standing there, still processing what had just happend.

"Are you ready, or should I tell the unsub to wait because you need to keep fixing your lipstick?" a voice spoke from the darkness of my room.

“Jesus fucking Christ Reid, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I jumped from my place, surprised to see him standing there, leaning on the frame of my bathroom door. "No one ever taught you how to knock on a door?" I muttered under my breath.

"First of all, your door was unlocked, and second of all," he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a very foul mouth you have, you should really watch your tongue," he chided. I felt his gaze lingering appreciatively on how the dress hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts.

From the corner of my eye, I lightly took in his appearance. The tailored suit fit him like a glove, different from what he wore every day. He looked more relaxed, better, hotter.

I was taken aback when I saw him move and enter the bathroom. My heart started racing as he stood by my side, exchanging a glance with me in the mirror.

"Honestly?I don't think he'd mind waiting for me” I straightened up, finally satisfied with my lipstick.

"Too bad he won't get to see it," he said, chuckling. His left hand met my hip, swiftly turning me around, and I gasped as the small of my back hit the bathroom counter. His own body caged me in, his intense gaze never leaving mine as I looked at him, confused yet strangely drawn to him. His right hand reached for a wipe, and he gently cleared any remnants of the red lipstick. I felt the cold, wet cloth on my lips, erasing any traces of the vivid stain. "If we're going to act like a couple, I don't want your lipstick all over me," Spencer remarked dryly, his expression unamused. "It's not my fault you don't know how to kiss a girl with lipstick, Doctor," I retorted, my annoyance evident in my tone.

"You look good enough," Spencer remarked with a smirk. "I'll be waiting for you in the car." With that, he turned and headed out, leaving me to gather my thoughts before joining him. "Well, this is going to be a long night," I sighed.

--x--

As Spencer drove us to the casino, we found ourselves going over the details of the plan. It was simple; our initial objective was to seamlessly integrate into the casino's scene, mirroring the couples we were emulating.

The plan dictated that Spencer and I had to project the image of a couple deeply in love, sharing glances, engaging in affectionate gestures, and creating an atmosphere that would draw the unsub's attention. Spencer would transition to the poker tables, just as the husbands of the previous victims had, all while showcasing his "trophy wife."

As the night progressed, I would strategically separate from Spencer to lure the unsub into action.

Inside the casino, Rossi and Morgan were playing their part as players, keeping an eye out. The rest of the team was in a van, ready to jump in if things went south.

The objective was clear – act like a couple. How hard could that be?

The tension in the car was palpable, and we exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the complexity of our roles. The success of the operation hinged on our ability to draw the unsub's attention, making him believe we were just another couple enjoying a night out.

The atmosphere in the casino buzzed with energy as Spencer and I entered. The dim lights, the soft murmur of conversations, and the distant chiming of slot machines created a captivating ambiance.

As we made our way to the bar, I reached for Spencer's hand and intertwined my fingers with his.

His eyebrows immediately shot up, a silent question evident in his expression as he glanced at me, perhaps surprised by the sudden display of affection.

"The more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention," I replied, my voice hushed but determined.

His gaze flickerd between our intertwined hands and my face. "Yeah," a small grin playing on his lips. "Just make sure you don't take it too far and end up falling for me."

"That's a good one, Dr. Reid," I chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "I'll try to contain myself."

We approached the bar, and Spencer took a seat on a stool. As I moved to stand by his side, he surprised me by pulling me closer, guiding me between his legs. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me snug against him. I was taken aback, but I didn't say a word. Acting like a couple—that was the plan. It was just all part of the plan.

"So what should I call you?" Spencer cut through our silence, his gaze focused on mine. "What should you call me?" I echoed, my voice filled with confusion as I furrowed my brows.

"I'm not going to address you by your real name," Spencer said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need undercover names. So, what's it going to be?"

His eyes scanned my features, awaiting my response, while I took a moment to ponder. "How about pretty girl?" he proposed with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me. My expression must have betrayed my surprise, but before I could respond, he continued, "Or how about Angel?" The endearing term rolled off his tongue, and I felt a flutter in my chest at the sound.

"Angel seems to resonate with you," he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he awaited my reaction. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me momentarily speechless.

I closed my eyes, disbelief washing over me. Was this real? Was Spencer really saying these things to me? And during a mission, no less?

"You seem awfully quiet for someone who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up," he said, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "If I'd known all I had to do was call you angel, I would've done it sooner."

"Sweet names will only get you so far," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Despite the warmth spreading through me at his words, I couldn't shake off the sense of disbelief at the way he was acting. "Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, his tone amused, as I felt his breath tickling my neck before his lips brushed against my skin, leaving a small kiss on my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest as he slowly moved his hands along my waist and lower back. I couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of his body pressed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.

"Doctor Reid, this is highly inappropriate," I managed to utter.

“On the contrary, my sweet Angel," he spoke softly as his small kisses traveled up my neck. "See, this mission requires us to act like a couple, so I'm simply enjoying my time with my wife,” he lightly chuckled as he reached my jawline. “As you said, the more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention”

Suddenly, Hotch's voice disrupted the moment as he barked over the wire in my ear, "Guys, great job. We've got a male in his late 30s to early 40s staring at you; he's moved closer since you arrived. He could be our unsub."

I heard Hotch's words, but my brain struggled to process them as I was too focused on Spencer's eyes, his gaze fixed on mine while his hands lightly pressed me closer.

"Come on, Angel, let's give him a show," Spencer pleaded, his voice laced with a confidence that both shocked and intrigued me. It was unexpected to witness this side of him, but there was something undeniably exciting about it. Perhaps it was his confidence and assertiveness, or maybe it was the way he was taking control and leading the interaction. "Yeah.... let´s.... let´s do it" I lightly nodded my head, I swear he could feel the pounding of my heart against my chest from how close he stood to me.

His right hand reached my face, his touch gentle against my skin. "Angel," he spoke quietly against my lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll only keep going if you give me permission."

His eyes were dark, his lips plump, inviting, calling for my attention. I couldn't even form a "yes," but he knew what I wanted. I pulled him closer by his tie, and our lips collided in a hot, messy kiss. I was taken aback by his skill and technique, completely unable to resist him as the heat between us intensified.

Spencer pulled away and wrapped his arms around my body, embracing me in a hug. His warmth was comforting, and I felt a sense of security in his embrace. "He's standing right behind you, gray suit, red tie, black hair," he whispered in my ear, his voice low enough not to be noticed by anyone standing nearby. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. The mission. The unsub. He was standing right behind me

"Should we join them?" I asked softly, glancing over toward the tables of poker and motioning for Spencer to start playing, continuing with the plan. He was supposed to hit the games, and I needed to find a way to get myself alone.

"Absolutely, my love," Spencer said with a smile as he rose from his seat.

Still a little dazed from that kiss, my mind was on fire, and my panties were ruined. How was I supposed to continue my life after knowing the effect Spencer had on me? My racing thoughts were only interrupted by the sight of the suspect following us to the tables. Instinctively, my body reacted, and I found myself clinging to Spencer's arm, seeking comfort and reassurance in his presence.

As planned, Spencer sat down at the closest table and began playing, our actions subtly conveying intimacy to onlookers. I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting kisses occasionally, making it clear to everyone that I was his prize, and he was proudly showing me off as his trophy wife.

As he played, I showered him with praise and encouragement. "You're doing so well, baby," I whispered, my words laced with admiration. It was evident that he was enjoying the attention, his gameplay slightly faltering under the distraction of my praise. Despite being a skilled and experienced player, known for his prowess and banned from multiple casinos, he seemed momentarily thrown off his rhythm by my words of encouragement. It was a small victory, a slight advantage gained in my favour.

Feeling the need to draw the unsub away, I leaned in close to Spencer and murmured, "I'm going to step out for some fresh air on the balcony, honey. I'll be back soon."

Spencer nodded, his attention still on the cards. "Okay, sweetheart," he replied with a smile, not once lifting his gaze.

Before I turned to leave, I couldn't resist the urge to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just as part of the plan, playing my role as the devoted wife. After all, that's what a wife would do, right?

The fresh air hit my face, sending shivers down my arms. I didn't need to turn to know he had followed me outside; I could feel his presence on my right side. When I glanced over, he gestured to a drink in his hand, offering it to me. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.

My heart raced, and my breathing quickened as he got closer, but I kept a cool, confident attitude, determined not to let him see my nerves.

"(Y/N), don't drink that. It's laced," Morgan's urgent voice snapped through the wire, jolting me into alertness. "Just keep him talking so Garcia can check him."

My blood ran cold as I registered Morgan's warning. Without missing a beat, I forced a smile and nodded, "Thank you, handsome, but I've had enough tonight," I replied smoothly, declining the drink with a casual wave of my hand.

"That's a big rock on your finger," he pointed out, glancing at my, unknowingly, fake engagement ring. "Why are you here all alone? Where's your husband?" he continued, raising an eyebrow and asking the question directly, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Well…" I laughed, injecting a flirtatious edge into my voice. "I could ask the same thing," I continued, "Where is Mrs…?"

"Mrs. Desmond? She stayed at home; she doesn't really like poker," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm Steve, by the way," he added, reaching out to shake my hand.

I shook his hand, my heart quickening as I heard Garcia speak from my wire: "Steve Desmond, a 39-year-old banker, is divorced; according to court files, his wife left him after he lost all of their money on poker.” The sound of clicking keyboards could be heard in the background. "The divorce dates coincide with the killings,” Garcia added.

“That sounds like a trigger,” Hotch's voice chimed in.

"Holy moly, he also assaulted a prostitute a couple of years ago, but the charges were dropped and he was never convicted," Garcia spoke nervously.

"That's our guy, (Y/N). Keep him talking; we're on our way,” Hotch said, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Is everything okay?" Steve spoke, his tone taking on a hint of aggression as he grabbed my attention. "Maybe you should take that drink."

“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” I replied firmly, stepping back in an attempt to keep my distance. However, he refused, reaching out and gripping my arm to keep me from moving.

"I'm telling you," he said angrily, his grip tightening. "You're clearly nervous. Just a tiny sip won't hurt." I tried to break free of his grasp, but he was stronger than me and refused to let go

"FBI!" Suddenly, I saw Spencer coming up behind him, his fist connecting with the guy's face with a solid punch, knocking him back into the wall. He was strong and quick; the unsub didn't stand a chance against him. Spencer swiftly pulled out his handcuffs, cuffing him without even breaking a sweat.

"Steve Desmond, you're under arrest for the killings of Amanda Crane, Juliet Sand, and Rebecca Miller,” Spencer announced, his voice firm and authoritative.

Morgan and Rossi soon appeared, Morgan helping the unsub up from the ground and carrying him out as he spoke, "Steve Desmond, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford it…” His voice faded as they left, escorting the suspect away from the scene.

Once they were out of sight, Spencer came up to me and reached for my arm, his expression filled with concern. I winced as he touched the red marks left behind by the unsub's grip.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern and care, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.

"Um, yeah…" I replied softly, my voice shaky. "I just need a moment to process this." My heart was still racing from the encounter, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Why did he step in like that? I thought to myself, a mixture of gratitude and confusion washed over me. I could've handled the situation on my own—I was trained for this, after all. Yet, there he was, interfering in my work.

After the quiet ride back to the motel, Spencer led me to the door of my room. As we stood there, I realized I could no longer contain the annoyance for how he had handled the situation. The tension of the evening had been building inside me, and I needed to let it out. "Spencer," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "I appreciate that you were trying to help, but I had it under control. I didn't need you to intervene so quickly," the frustration bubbled inside me, I couldn't help but wonder why Spencer felt the need to intervene. I felt like I had done a great job handling the situation, and his actions made me feel as though he had robbed me of an opportunity to take down the unsub myself.

Spencer's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, really?" he said incredulously. "I didn't realize you had everything under control. I just figured that the guy having his hands all over you and aggressively grabbing your arm was cause for concern. But clearly, you didn't need any help."

"Oh, right, because clearly, I was in so much danger," I snapped sarcastically.

"I'm not going to sit around and watch some creepy-as-hell psychopath put his hands all over you," Spencer said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows furrowed in concern, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "I won't let him put you at risk of being hurt … or worse." His tone was sharp "Get it through your head; I'm not going to let that happen."

"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. Crossing my arms defensively, I met his gaze head-on. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"

"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back, his frustration evident in his tone.

"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit," I shot back, my voice rising with indignation. "Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now? Hun?"

And then, suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, his body pressing mine firmly against the door with a resounding thud. I felt the heat of his body press on mine, the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant.

His kiss was messy and sloppy, but damn, it was hot. There was an urgency in the way our lips crashed together, fueled by a raw desire that couldn't be tamed. As the kiss deepened, the air grew thin, and I felt myself getting breathless. With a gasp, I had to pull away,

“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.

"When I kissed you at the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

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violetrainbow412-blog · 5 months

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hii, I wish to request a Willy Wonka x reader 😭🙏 where reader doesn’t like chocolate at all because it’s too cloying, so Wonka tries to make the right candy (or chocolate) to give it to the reader at Christmas Eve (he wanted to gave reader a small gift before Christmas day, like a form of confessing his feelings to the reader). And reader also prepares a small gift to Wonka bc they also want to confess their feelings to him

Reader can be gender neutral, or however you want

English isn’t my first language so sorry any grammar mistakes, also sorry if I didn’t explain myself well

have a good day and thanks for reading 😭🫶💐

The Bittersweet Gift of Love [W. W]

Willy Wonka x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

note: don't worry! English is not my first language either. I have to admit that writing with neutral readers is always a challenge for me because I translate my texts directly, but I think this time it's a decent thing. I hope you like it!!

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

What could a chocolatier give to a person who didn't like chocolate? That was the question Willy had been asking himself for the past few weeks.

You hadn't specifically said that you didn't like chocolate, rather it was a matter of not liking the excessively sweet or sticky taste that some had. That is, most of the chocolates he made.

“Maybe it's just that you haven't found the right flavor,” he had told you once, while the two of you were talking.

And he was quite convinced of that, even thinking that if he managed to make something special for you maybe he would earn some affection from you. It would be as if he gave you a certain part of himself, so that you could make it yours.

So it was that Wonka, after reflecting a lot, decided to try all kinds of combinations until he found one good enough to satisfy you. Christmas was approaching and he believed that the occasion would be perfect not only to give you the present, but also to take an important step for which he had not yet had the courage: he wanted to confess his feelings for you.

The man didn't know much about love, however, he knew that he liked you a lot and he wanted you to know it. It was just that he was pretty nervous about it and he hoped everything would turn out as perfect as possible, after all, you deserved it.

Christmas Eve came when he was least expecting it and then it was time to dress in shades of green and red to attend the party that the Smith family would throw, as a thank-you to everyone after Dorothy had heard what the entire group did for help Noodle when she needed it most.

Willy put a lot of effort into buying, with some of the few coins he had left, a cute outfit appropriate to the occasion that he combined with his characteristic coat. When he was in front of the library door he felt the little purple box in his hands extremely heavy and he thought it would be a better idea to put it in his pocket, or else you would realize ahead of time the surprise he had for you.

“Mr. Wonka,” Dorothy greeted, as she opened the door “Come in, come in. It's freezing outside”

“Good night, Mrs. Smith,” he murmured cordially, removing his hat and placing it on a rack in the entryway. Apparently he was the last to arrive, since everyone else was already talking happily in the room.

Of course his eyes went directly to you, who was wearing a green sweater that highlighted your beautiful skin tone and you already had a huge smile on your pink lips from the cold.

“It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka,” said Abacus, being the first to speak “Sit over here.”

He smiled internally at the good fortune that the place the man had left him was right next to you and when you gave him a look, he felt himself blush.

“Hi,” he murmured shyly.

"Hello! I'm so glad you could come."

“I would never miss it,” he responded smilingly. His knees collided with yours and suddenly your warmth seemed to invade him as well, perhaps because of the closeness, but also because of the overflowing love he felt for you “How are you?”

With this question you began a pleasant and private conversation, which developed between close whispers and giggles that made him increasingly nervous. The others didn't mind too much that you didn't participate in the general talks, as they knew that certain unresolved matters probably needed time.

You ate the delicious dinner that the family had prepared, you drank punch, you sang some Christmas carols and when the night had advanced enough you returned to your previous place, although now with fewer people around.

“This is so nice, I love Christmas. The atmosphere is always so homely and warm” you said, with your eyes resting on the simple tree that adorned the room.

It was almost midnight and the others were in the kitchen sorting through some of the cookies that Noodle had put there an hour ago, which only left you and the chocolatier in the living room.

“I guess I believe you, your eyes are literally shining now,” he said happily. He felt like sliding his hand into yours and this time, steeling himself, he didn't hold back. You flinched slightly when you felt that.

“What are you doing?”

“I have something for you,” he breathed, feeling strangely excited by what he was about to do “It's a gift.”

“Oh, Willy,” you responded, a bit incredulously, as you bent down to grab something from your bag on the floor. “I have something for you, too.”

He chuckled when he saw the box lined with bright red and a purple bow decorating it, since it was a pleasant coincidence that you had also prepared something for him.

“But don't tell anyone, because he didn't bring gifts for the others,” you added, quietly, and then he helped you up, still holding onto your hand.

"Come with me"

He led you to an empty room and he closed the door behind you, hoping he only needed enough minutes to not raise suspicions among the rest of the guests. You were nervously holding the gift, with both hands now that he had let go of you.

“Okay, listen. I wanted to do something special for you today,” he began to explain, as he pulled the box out of his pocket. “And I also added, uh… a note. You don't have to read it now or anything, but it says something in it that I want you to know."

“You're starting to scare me,” you stammered, obviously nervous. Willy was going to ask what you meant until he saw you take a small envelope out of your pocket, which you placed on the red paper. “Because I have the same thing for you.”

He stumbled a little at the second coincidence of the night and he wondered what your note could be about. He knew that he had written a little poem confessing how he felt about you, but... what if you were just wishing him a Merry Christmas? He was going to look like a complete fool.

“You can read mine in a more… private place if you feel comfortable. Maybe alone,” he suggested, though he knew it was more for his comfort than yours.

“Huh, how about we just open the gifts and leave the notes for later? I wouldn't want you to read mine now either” you murmured, just as shy as him.

Willy agreed and you extended your gift in his direction, hinting that he would be the first to open. He undid the bow, carefully, and then opened the box, revealing a beautiful scarf.

“Wow, I…”

"Do you like it? I made it myself”

“I don't believe you,” he said immediately, looking even more surprised. “It's beautiful, I really love it. Thank you so much"

He wasted no time and placed the garment around his neck. Curiously, it matched the rest of his outfit.

"It looks pretty"

“Mine is also a gift made by me. Feel free to tell me if you don’t like it, I… I’ll understand, okay?” you looked a little confused at that and then he took out the piece of chocolate, carefully placed inside the box “I know you don't like chocolate, but I don't think anyone should live without consuming such a great delicacy. So I made you this, because it doesn't have those things that you don't like. It's... different, but I hope you like it”

With some shyness he offered you the sweet and you put it in your mouth, under his watchful eye during the process. You tasted what he had offered you: it was a little bitter, but not in that way that makes your head hurt or leaves a bad taste on your palate, but with just the right touch. It was firm and didn't melt in your mouth, but decent enough to chew on. And finally, it had a touch of something indecipherable to you, but that gave it a certain exotic flavor that was pleasant to your senses.

He, without knowing everything you were experiencing, kept looking at you because he wanted to analyze your reaction to know what you really thought, and luckily your reaction showed agreement with what your chocolate lips said:

“It is the best chocolate I have ever tasted”

Willy felt that like the greatest compliment in the world and he couldn't help a smile crossing his face, satisfied with himself for having achieved his goal, but above all for seeing the happy expression on your face.

“You will never have to eat chocolates you don't like again, I have a jar full of these just for you. They will even bear your name."

It was inevitable not to take a step towards him to hug him and the boy, although at first he seemed surprised, soon responded to you.

“No one had ever done anything like this for me. I appreciate it a lot"

“Well, it's my Christmas gift. I wanted it to be something special,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating in time with yours “Merry Christmas, Y/N”

“Merry Christmas, Willy,” you said. The note in his hand felt extremely heavy and he was eager to read it, but he knew he would have to wait a while.

Suddenly you heard Noodle calling your names and you got out of there before anyone else noticed your absence, which worked because the girl was walking around the hallway when you were closing the door.

“It's going to be midnight, come here,” she said and you obeyed.

Dorothy revealed that she had a small present for each person and you began to look under the tree, eager to find out what would be in those little boxes. It wasn't something very ostentatious, but you were grateful anyway.

So, when no one was looking, you ran to the bathroom to finally read whatever he had written to you, hoping it wasn't as embarrassing as the confession you had made. You were stunned to learn the content and for a moment you feared you were dreaming, but you weren't.

When you left you knew well what your intentions were and your heart stopped for a moment when you noticed that Willy was nowhere to be seen, until Lottie told you that she had seen him heading to the kitchen. You rushed over and when you opened the door you noticed that he was about to do the same, with a bright expression on his face.

A second later he had already pulled you inside and without saying another word, he kissed you.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #willy wonka x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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joelsgoldrush · 10 months

Text

swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that

joel miller x f!reader / 5,8k words

summary: you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.

warnings: smut 18+ let’s pretend joel never left jackson, porn with plot, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel is 56), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, pet names, unprotected p in v (don't try this at home ok), dirty talk, soft!dom joel (sort of???), a bit of angst/feelings, joel gets all babygirl around reader, ellie appears for like a minute, mediocre attempt at recreating joel's southern accent (sorry in advance)

a/n: hello??? well this is my first fic ever so bear with me, i'm still new to all this. also english isn't my first language so i'm afraid there may be mistakes (mostly when it comes to collocations bc i hate them and they confuse me), buuuut i'm learning obviously and if you find anything that should be corrected PLEASE TELL ME thank you :) i'd appreciate if you told whether you liked this story (idk what to call it tbh) but if you don't it's more than fine! anyways thank you so much for reading if you come across this fic, i hope you like it! i've spent a week writing it bc finals season is killing me <///3

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

"Oh, my drunken southern star / How you tried to hide in darkness / Slipped from orbit / Now you’re dangerously close / Come out, come out from all your hiding out / We’ll dig in our heels, salute the battlefields / Where our broken hearts were born."

What is it that he has?

You used to ask yourself that question every night as you went to bed. On some occasions, you couldn't manage to come up with an exact answer. There were too many reasons that disclosed why a man like him lingered on your mind, even in those moments that were supposed to be for you and only you. Sleeping more than three hours a day was definitely something you needed tremendously, but still, the not-so-rational voice inside your head kept on bringing his name up without fail, disturbing your rest.

Joel Miller. Was it possible to feel like this? Like you knew somebody without having exchanged more than five words with them? Sure, there wasn't a single person in Jackson who wasn't aware of his existence. From whispered rumors in the streets to stories that intended to give his reserved personality an explanation, Joel became a real talking-point among those in the commune. Years ago, when the world was still just a floating ball in space, he would’ve frightened you, being the kind of person your parents used to warn you about as you started to grow older.

He walked a certain way, as if he were holding the suffering of many lives in his hands. Always on guard, prepared to fight those who defied him. Hidden knives in his pockets, a gun between his fingers, the trigger too tempting to be pulled at any time given. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray, and you swore that the latter was only becoming more prominent as days went by.

Suddenly, your pillow felt too uncomfortable, your hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt while you kicked the blanket resting on top of your bare feet. A sigh escaped your lips, the taste of something you couldn't even distinguish on your tongue, your unsteady breath being the only sound to be heard in that noiseless night.

You were having a hard time figuring out how you felt about Joel (if there was anything to feel in the first place, since he barely remembered your face and there you were, fantasizing about him instead of sleeping.) Maybe you liked how he presented himself, how bossy and persistent he looked the times you caught him patrolling around the zone. Or perhaps it was his character what charmed you in the first place, and the fact that, deep down, a different side from him remained completely unseen.

He was handsome, too. Tall, broad shoulders, aquiline nose. His arms looked majestic in every single piece of clothing he wore, his tanned skin shiny enough to reflect the very same sun. And his legs… you were sure they were muscular like the rest of his body, because of all the physical effort he did. You had heard that he worked as a contractor before the pandemic, which made a lot of sense. Once or twice you had paid attention to his hands and–

Then, a familiar feeling sinked in. Warm began spreading through your belly, your thighs involuntary clenching together. “Fuck,” you muttered in a low tone, keeping your hands glued to your sides. Another motive not to think about Joel: he made you feel… things. Certain things that you hadn't felt for anyone in a very long time. You preferred to think that it was probably due to the fact that you were touch-starved, and not because you found yourself deeply attracted to him. Never had you ever been a sexually active person, so why now? Why did the mere image of Joel in your mind turn you on?

He’s strong. I’m alone. I feel the need to find someone who’s willing to protect me. That’s it. No other reason.

Your internal monologue was lacking in arguments, but it was definitely something you could work with. As if on cue, you found it hard to keep your eyes open, your limbs not feeling as if they were yours anymore. Next thing you knew, you were asleep.

That night, you dreamt with Joel.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a small cabin, you taught children how to paint and draw. Maria believed it to be helpful for their psychological development or something like that, and you had agreed to do it. A good way to spend your free time– that’s what it was. Plus, you liked children; some would even choose to include you in their drawings, and that small gesture just warmed your heart.

There, you met Ellie, a teenager whose basic vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities.

And boy, you loved Ellie.

It was hard not to, actually. She was like a breath of fresh air, with her jokes and instant charm. You two became attached in a short time, and she reminded you of a younger version of you, just a lot braver. Although in this world it brought her benefits, you sometimes wished she wouldn’t have gone through all that shit. Those eyes, which squinted as she laughed if you tickled her sides, were the cemetery of many buried memories. You wondered how she managed to put a smile on her face despite her past and the horrible things she had seen, hoping it was genuine and not a mask.

“Look!” her voice brought you back to reality. Blinking in her direction, you realized the amount of paint you had dropped onto the floor, a red stain already forming on the carpet. “Are you okay? You seem off.”

“I’m fine! Just a bit sleepy today, that's all,” you got closer to where she was lying down, her fingers moving the brush you had gifted her in different directions. Squatting a bit, you placed a strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail behind her ear. “So, what are you painting?”

She smiled warmly, and her teeth catched her lower lip momentarily. “It’s not finished, okay? Don’t freak out. I know you’re a perfectionist.”

“I’m not…” you tried to explain yourself, but ended up choosing to be defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, may I see it?”

The canvas was in your hands a few moments later. Ellie spoke beside you, her words mixing together in a sign of embarrassment. “It’s for Joel. Figured I could do something nice for him, you know? I don’t– I think I need to start over. His eyes look kind of strange, don’t they? They’re so close he looks like a cyclops.”

“Don’t say that, kiddo. This is… it’s beautiful,” your index finger traced the lines framing his jaw, the shades of his skin perfectly achieved. You held the painting even tighter, afraid of breaking it for a second. He wasn’t frowning like he normally did; Ellie had painted him smiling, and the crinkles by his eyes matched his age. Surely you must have spent more time than necessary staring at it, ‘cause then Ellie continued talking.

“Well, you know what they say: The student has become the teacher.”

You handed the canvas to her, a smirk taking place on your face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stop teaching you if that’s the case.”

An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. As both of your hands were occupied (a more formal way to say that they were dirty with paint), you screamed “Come in!”, and Ellie covered her painting with an old, muddy curtain you used to clean the tables in which the children worked. You were about to ask her why she had reacted in that way, until you turned around and saw him.

Joel was there, as every other Wednesday. In your cabin, standing right in front of you. And you didn’t even look presentable. His hair looked messy, a couple of locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Hi,” he said shortly, meeting your gaze and attempting to shake your hand, but you avoided contact.

Showing him your hands, you held your palms in the air as an indication of the still fresh paint on your skin. “Sorry. If I were to accept the gesture, I’d leave you a stain.”

He retrieved a bit, adjusting his glove. “It’s okay. Safety first.”

That was supposed to be a joke, you noticed tardily. The silence in the room persisted until Ellie appeared from behind your back, already putting her coat on.

“You were supposed to pick me up in half an hour, asshole.”

His mouth snapped shut for an instant. “I missed you too. How was the class?”

Ellie lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, looking in your direction and proceeding to jerk her thumb toward Joel. She didn’t want him to see the painting. “Fine as usual.”

“Can I see what you’re–”

“No fucking way!” she accentuated the word fucking, drawing him closer to the door.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not done.”

“But–”

“No more questions, Joel. Let’s go! Say bye!” Ellie handled him like a baby, which made you giggle.

Though you saw Joel raising his eyebrows, so you stopped laughing.

Soon, they left and the cabin returned to its familiar quietness. A sigh erupted from your chest, and you allowed yourself to fall on top of a chair.

At least you could say you had actually talked to Joel for once.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

It didn’t surprise you that you wanted to see him again.

Not in the “you-turn-me-on” way, but in the “you-seem-interesting-and-i-need-to-find-out-why” one.

He had something. Something so magnetic and indecipherable that kept pulling you towards him. Something that made you look for his presence in every crew, and not sensing what it was only made your wishes to dissect him grow bigger. There was a tiny probability that he was an idiot with a pretty face. Who knew? You definitely didn’t, and that needed to change. You deserved to know if pining over that man was worth it or not.

That chain of thoughts led you to look for him the next day, almost trembling with eagerness as you asked him the most stupid and unexpected question you could have imagined.

“Would you teach me how to ride a horse?”

He looked at you as if you were out of your mind, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it before he actually replied to you. “You’re tellin' me you don’t know how to ride a horse?”

“Tried it a few times, but failed and now I really want to learn to do it properly,” you swore his eyes were trying to decipher if you were saying the truth or not. “Ellie told me that you could probably make some time to teach me?”

“So Ellie's in charge of my schedule, I suppose?” you froze on the spot, and he must have noticed it because then his expression dulled. “Sorry, sweetheart. It was a joke. I've been told I'm not the best humorist.”

Sweetheart. You could’ve died a happy girl.

“Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow after lunch? I'm sure it won’t take us much time. Not a difficult task, y’know?” he stroked his beard, apparently thinking you understood what he was talking about.

“Sure. Thank you, Joel. My name’s–“

He didn’t let you finish. “I do know your name,” and before leaving, he repeated: “I’ll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me.”

To say that you slept without interruptions that night was an understatement. Each hour seemed to become longer the more you glimpsed your watch. Your heart drummed inside your chest violently, and you feared that someone else would be able to hear it if they got close enough to you.

After having lunch in the same spot as every other mundane day, your legs took you to the stable. You took a shaky breath, expecting him to appear out of thin air, but fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Joel. Pressing your forehead against the wooden door, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “What was I even thinking?”

“Hey.”

You looked to your side and– there he was, already getting inside the stable and inviting you to follow him. Joel petted one of the horses, clicking his tongue. His fingers caressed the animal’s back, and when he shot a glance at you, he didn’t ignore your disturbed expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of horses.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” you laughed awkwardly, eyeing the horse, which stared at you with those big and strange eyes. You raised your hand to mimic Joel, but that just made the animal move further away from you. “I guess it’s mutual. We don’t like each other.”

Joel smirked, guiding you outside. “It’s a damn horse. I don’t think you can tell whether he likes you or not. You gotta change that attitude of yours,” he murmured as he got on top of the horse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Treat him well and he’ll be nice.”

At first, Joel taught you the basics: how to position yourself for balance, get your legs in the right position, hold the reins properly. A little bit of help coming from him was needed for you to mount the horse. He got down on one knee, patting it as if it were a mounting block. “Come on. Step on it.”

No need to ask me twice, you thought as you did what you were told, and once you were grabbing on those reins for dear life, you observed him with curious eyes. “Now what?”

“Now…” he pressed his hand into one of the horse’s sides, and afterwards, the horse began to fucking trot and you cried out, a high-pitched shriek slipping from your mouth. Joel laughed maliciously, almost hypnotized by the scene. “Now is when you learn how to ride a horse!”

“This isn't funny!” you screamed, the horse still very much entertained with the way you were jerking on top of him. “Stop!”

You couldn't believe how he kept… cracking up. Joel touched his stomach, shaking with laughter. “You’re a natural, can’t you see it? I’m havin' the time of my life here.”

“What I can see is that you’re an idiot! Cut the cackle and help me!”

But he didn’t move a single muscle. Instead, he remained still, that smug look never abandoning his features.

The bastard. “You’re gonna make me beg? In this situation?”

Crossing his arms while teasingly grinning at you, he added: “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Joel Miller, will you help me? Pretty please?” your hair was getting in the way, and you could taste it as you insisted. “Is that enough for you?”

It was, actually. He helped you get down from the horse, his thick fingers digging into the mushy skin of your waist. It shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did. You were supposed to be angry at him for setting you up and still, by touching you for a microsecond, he had transformed you into something malleable.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last much longer. “Didn’t know you were a man of manners. Should’ve told me beforehand.”

“Didn't know you could scream like that. I hope you didn’t freak anyone out.”

The two of you continued to practice until nightfall. A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man. Everytime you tried to quit, he stopped you, making it impossible for you to rest. You stared at him, rubbing the back of your sore neck with a grimace. “I’m tired. Can we go back?”

“One more time.”

“Joel–”

“Trot a couple of meters just one more time, and that’s it for today. Can you do that for me?”

You tried not to pay too much attention to his choice of words, although it was basically non-viable. He looked sinful, and you longed to shut him up with a bruising kiss. Again, a hopeless option. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his stubble, rough and coarse under your thumbs. How could you stay focused when the man you had been daydreaming with for the last couple of months was bossing you around?

Despite your inability to clear your head of any of those thoughts, you managed to accomplish what he had asked you to do. “Well done,” he offered you his hand to dismount the horse and you accepted it, sighing as you stretched out your arms. “We should take him back to the stable,” Joel suggested, giving you the impression of being pleased as you told him you were coming with him.

Inside the stable, he relocated the horse into one of the many stalls. Unbelievably, the place didn’t smell like absolute shit, which was what you were expecting from a barn. “Thank you for the lesson,” you told Joel once he was done with the horse.

“Anytime,” he scratched his jaw, the dim light making his dark eyes look, if possible, even darker. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No. You were right,” your heart thrummed with every word that he blurted. His presence was addictive. You were never the one to have any bad habits, but deep down, you recognized that he easily could develop one. “I thought you were less talkative.”

“So did I,” for an instant, he pressed his lips together, forming a tight line, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have in the first place. “I think I didn’t ask you this before: but why now? I mean, why did you wait so much time to learn how to ride a horse? Everyone in Jackson seems to know how.”

You cleared your throat, his piercing eyes peering at your movements. “I guess I thought it wasn't necessary back then, before all this. It's one of those things that you don't even consider until it becomes inevitable. I used to believe I had a lot of time left when I was younger,” you had never talked about this with anyone else. There was something so intimate about this conversation, how Joel stood seemingly tongue-tied in front of you, as if he were taking notes of what you were confessing to him. “I remember being a kid and not wanting to use my toys sometimes because I kept waiting for the right moment. But then…”

“You realize there’s no such thing as the right moment,” he finished the sentence for you, and you bowed your head. “Life can end at any moment, especially in a world like ours. That’s why you always gotta do what you wish to. We never know what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“Live for today, hope for tomorrow? That’s your creed?” you tried to mock him, the tension in the stable far from evident, but he didn’t move.

“It’s the way I try to live my own life. I don’t like being left with the desire to do somethin’ I could’ve done earlier. Too old for that.”

Maybe you were gradually losing it. Perhaps just a little. It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Had he noticed how you acted around him? Were you that obvious?

“So, you would advise me to just…”

“Do whatever you feel right, sweetheart.”

That raspy sweetheart made you give in.

His eyes. His penetrating, gleaming eyes scrutinized your face at the same time you closed the distance between your bodies. From there, you were able to see every freckle, every small detail that you hadn’t previously acknowledged. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words other than your name came out. One of your hands made its way up to his cheek, cupping it, feeling the warmth his skin radiated. His head immediately leaned into your touch, like a moth into a flame.

You kissed him, unable to keep waiting. It took him what felt like ages to kiss you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He absorbed your whimpers, pressing your back against the nearest wall. Maddening– it was the perfect word to describe how being kissed by Joel felt like. When you thought he was going to draw away from you, he just held you tighter until your lungs implored for some air. Your knees had never felt this weak, and you found yourself grabbing onto his shoulders, already feeling the places where his stubble had left its trace in flames.

“Joel…” you mumbled against his lips, detaching your mouth from his. Your erratic breaths seemed to sync together like a melody, and you tugged at the collar of his jacket.

He knew, could see it on your features. “Wanna go to yours?”

Joel took you home. The moment you set foot in the cabin, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the handle as he contemplated you from a distance. You took your coat off first, starting to unzip your pants. There was silence long enough to hear crickets in, the moon up in the sky being the only bystander of your meeting. His eyes roamed the newly exposed skin of your legs and you observed him gulp.

“Did something happen?” you asked him, a flush crepting up your face. Taking a step forward, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours.

“No, it’s just that– Are you sure you want this?”

Crinkling your nose, you uttered: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just too old for you,” he warned you, running a knuckle down your cheek. “You should be with guys your age, y’know? Not with an old man like me.”

“I want you,” reassuring him, you got rid of your t-shirt, and the fact he was still dressed up from neck to toes lit some kind of fire inside you. His calloused fingers fiddled with the strap of your bra until it slipped off your shoulder. “This is what I want. Please, Joel.”

It turned out that Joel Miller certainly was a man of manners.

You couldn't help but moan as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you to the couch by the window and straddling his lap, his hard-on finding its place beneath you, pulsing and in need of more. His tongue brushed yours ever so often, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his teeth latched onto the skin of your throat. Joel groaned, the sound, low and primal, having its desired effect on you, your hips involuntarily grinding against his in a delicious but tormenting rhythm that already had you on the verge of tears.

“Joel, please,” you managed to plead, not knowing precisely what you were asking for. His hands cupped your ass, imprinting his fingerprints on the soft flesh, forcing your hips to go harder and harder. The harsh fabric of his pants was definitely going to leave a mark on your cheeks, and thinking that helped you realize that you were the only one –almost– naked. You reached for the buttons of his denim shirt, your lips hovering over his. “Take your clothes off?”

He did the rest himself, throwing his jacket to the floor. When he got to his jeans, he cocked his head. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, if you’re so goddamn needy?” The few guys you had been with had never been very talkative during sex; there was even this one specific boy who had asked you to not make a sound while he fucked you.

But Joel wasn’t like them. It was just starting and you had already realized that he had a dirty mouth, an expectant look on his face every time he waited for your reaction to his words. “Now you’re quiet, huh? Thought you wanted me to fuck you, darlin',” one of his fingers pressed down on your clit, stimulating it through your underwear. He sighed, stopping his movements and pressing the damp pad of it against your lower lip, urging you to taste yourself. “You’re wet, baby. So fuckin’ wet. Have you been like this all day? Bet you would’ve let me take you right there in the forest.”

“Oh my God,” you whined next to his ear, your whole body trembling with desire. “Take me to bed,” you begged him, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you as if you weighed nothing and heading towards your room.

Not knowing how, you kept your hands to yourself until he placed you on top of the bed. Joel shoved his jeans down and you didn’t think twice– you stroked his length, the fabric of his boxers only making the slow drag of your hand more satisfying. His long fingers circled your throat, and you moaned as you kept eliciting exquisite noises from him. “Let me take care of you,” his dilated pupils carved holes in your being, his grip doing nothing to cease the ache between your legs. “Please, baby. I need to make you feel good. Been thinkin’ about this for so long.”

“What?” you slowed down your pace, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You wanted me?”

“Why do you think I began to pick Ellie up from your classes, huh? Because I’m a good, generous man?” Joel parted your knees, getting closer to where you required him the most. “I’m sorry to ruin this, but I’m far from good. Just wanted to see you and your pretty face. Didn’t know if we were on the same page until you came lookin' for me, askin' me to teach you how to ride a damn horse,” you hadn’t noticed your bra was missing till he cupped one of your breasts, flicking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m sure there were many other people you could’ve asked to teach you, but you chose me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t want anybody else,” your lips chased his, a drop of sweat already rolling down your temple. “I didn’t– didn’t know you noticed me.”

“How could I not? If you could only look at yourself like I’m doing right now… You’re a sight, sweetheart, all spread out for me,” removing your panties, he kissed the skin where your inner thighs met, his tongue darting out to draw imaginary figures on your flesh. His mouth was just inches away from your cunt, and you had to tell him.

“Joel?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never– nobody has ever done that for me.”

He seemed to understand what you were referring to. It made you tense a bit, despite the fact that you were completely naked in front of him, basically begging him to tear you apart. Still, the realization that you weren't as expert as him hit you out of nowhere. Yeah, it was all fun and games, kissing and touching probably the hottest man you had seen in your almost three decades of life. But said man was a lot older than you, and he had lived his best years in the real world, not this fucked up version you grew up in. You were sure he had been with many different women, which wasn’t a problem– you two were nothing.

“Nobody has ever tasted ya’? That’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” you nodded quickly, shoving a strand of his graying hair back away from his eyes. Joel chuckled languidly, squeezing your hips. “Do you want me to? It’s okay if you don’t. We can try somethin’ else.”

“Please,” you’d have time to embarrass yourself later, thinking about the amount of times you had repeated that word. But certain moments were to be lived only once, and though you hoped it wasn't the case, you had to take the chance. “I want you to.”

Four words. It took Joel four words to disappear between your legs, licking a hot stripe up your folds. You nibbled on your bottom lip, a loud moan filling the void of your dorm. He drew sweet patterns in your cunt, discovering a part of you that no one else ever had, and you couldn’t help but to grind against his face as he dipped the tip of his tongue into your entrance. Breathing wasn’t a necessity anymore. You felt as if all the air in the world was being punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter the more Joel spent his precious time keeping you entertained.

At some point, he focused his attention on your clit, circling it over and over again, making you shudder. Suddenly, the pad of his middle finger tested the waters, and he slowly slid it into your cunt, earning a strangled whine from you. Burying your hands in his hair, your glossy eyes looked for him for a second. You shouldn’t have done that, because as you took in the sight of Joel with his own eyes closed, browns knitted, your nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was even possible to want somebody that much.

“Joel, wait, I’m– fuck,” your jaw went slack and you scrunched up your face, two of his thick fingers nudging that spot that made you see stars. “I’m close.”

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. Don’t know why you say it in such a dry tone,” his mouth curved into a smile, his chin and stubble shining with your slick.

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“But you will.”

A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man.

“Joel–“

“I’ll make you come with my mouth, and then with my cock,” dizziness was starting to blur your vision, your eyelashes fluttering with every hard thrust of his fingers. You glanced up to the ceiling, tears filling your eyes. “Think you can do that for me, be my good girl and come twice?”

You bobbed your head. It was official: he was going to make you come.

Drawing in a long breath, you could feel the unbearable pressure in your core. His name sounded like a prayer on your lips, chanting it in the same way some people expressed their devotion to a certain God. You had your own personal deity, whose tongue accomplished to push you to the limit, licking every drop of your release as if it were a special kind of forbidden elixir.

Your shoulders sagged and you relaxed under him. Joel kissed you, an open mouthed and filthy kiss crowning that moment as you panted. Through the cotton fabric of his boxers, you felt his hard-on poking your thigh. Shoving his underwear down, you took him in your hand, hot and just big, stroking him for real this time. You twisted your wrist at the tip, and he slumped forward, almost crushing you with his entire body weight, his breath dampening your neck. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he croaked, his hips chasing your touch.

Out of all the scenarios you had ever imagined, none of them included being split open by Joel. You had a very vivid imagination, but no amount of creativity would’ve prepared you for what his cock would feel like inside of you. He bottomed out, his arms shaking where they rested on each side of your head. Joel’s breath quickened as he pulled out, just letting the tip, and then thrusting into you again.

“Fuck,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was even hard to decipher if you were still alive or dead from how magnificent he felt.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re so good, such a good girl,” he groaned, fucking deeper into you. His cock pulsed inside you, your cunt squeezing him. “Can’t believe how– how tight you are. You’re gonna make me lose my f–fucking mind.”

It was just too much. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm before Joel started pounding into you like his life depended on it, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin ringing out in the room.

“You gonna come, huh? Gonna make a mess?” you could sense he was also close, his pace faltering as seconds went by, words slurring together. He pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists and taking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

Come inside, you wished to tell him, to feel his seed dripping out of your greedy hole, painting your walls. But you weren't on the pill; it was also the first time you were sleeping with Joel, and you didn’t know how he would take the… suggestion. “Close,” you yelped instead, tears shimmering in your eyes as Joel’s body hovered over you like the most perfect eclipse.

His thrusts became more frenzied, if possible. “That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” your gaze fixated upon him, his eyes flickering with hunger. “Wanna see you when you soak my cock.”

Your body went limp, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Soreness took place in your throat as you moaned his name through the aftershocks, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Going rigid, you let go of Joel’s shoulders. He pulled out, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch. You fisted his cock, trying to give him the release he so yearned for. Joel kissed you, messy teeth and saliva taking part of it. Heavy on your hand, his dick twitched as you squeezed the base, roped of his warm cum splattering your belly. The scene reminded you of a painting; he was the talented painter, and you his blank canvas, waiting to be signed with his name.

It was the turn of silence now. None of you said anything for a while, until Joel used his boxers to clean up his cum from your stomach, smiling apologetically at you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” your fingers delicately traced the contours of his chest as he reclined, enveloping you in the embrace of his strong arms. “Will you stay?”

Please say yes.

“Only if you want me to.”

Moral of the story: learning how to ride a horse can actually be nice if your teacher happens to be Joel Miller.

3K notes · View notes

mirohlayo · 4 months

Text

HATE YOU LOVINGLY | LN4 (pt2)

( you hate him just as he hates you. but maybe it's just his way to show he fell hard for you. )

warning : jealousy, slight angst, fluff

note : i spent my whole evening writing this but it's worth it. also wrote once again more than 5k words i surprised myself because even in french i don't write that much

word count : 5.1k

↳ part 1

!! english is not my first language !!

this season's debut is tough for you. being a new f1 presenter is not as amazing as it looks. of course it's a wonderful job, you couldn't have dreamed better because it's the job you so wanted. you're very passionate about it, but it requires a lot of work and to be honest you're feeling a bit tired since some weeks now.

but the thing that disturbs you and makes you really tense is when you interview lando. actually just lando. of course you still don't like him, but you're sure you don't hate him anymore. you thought you would never say this but you definitely started to appreciate him. because of the post race interviews.

you mostly interview the mclaren drivers. it means that you can share some time with your best friend oscar but it also means you have to face lando. and when it happens it's the most stressful and strained moment. because you can't fully concentrate yourself on the questions.

it's the way he looks at you with this intense gaze, which makes you burn inside of your body. his distracting look always finish to fall on your lips at one point of the interview. it makes you go crazy. he would stare a bit at them before looking you in the eyes like nothing happened.

but to revenge on him you would ask him the most tough questions. about the race, about qualifying. you somehow always manage to prick his weaknesses by asking questions whose answers are almost impossible to find. and he always scoff, he lets a laugh out because he perfectly understands what you always try to do.

and fans notice it. they notice the way you two interact on camera. they'd say both of you look like are going to murder each other with the difficult questions from you and the sassy comments and answers from lando. but if they really analyze the situations, they can caught and feel a link between you. a special link which connects you. they notice lando's wandering eyes on your lips and the way you look at him. and laugh at his jokes.

it seems like you try so hard to show everyone you hate each other but it ends up watching two fools being secretly in love.

but you're still sure lando hates you and he's thinking the same for you.

now the australian grand prix will take place this sunday, and today it is thursday. which means conferences and media duties. the mclaren media team has planned a new sort of video. they want to try different types of content for both the drivers this year. and they organized a video with lando and you as guests. the idea of the video is to make lando choose an outfit for you and you'll try it. it can be a good way to show mclaren's fans your relationship and also lando's style and taste.

"y/n will arrive in a few minutes" stephanie, who oversees media and PR functions for mclaren, informs lando that you'll be here soon. the curly haired just nods and fixes his hoodie's sleeve. his expression is impassive, nobody can't tell what emotion he's feeling right now. however, some of the members are aware of the complex relationship between you and lando so they profoundly hope the video will not be a mess.

you guys just need to cooperate and fake it, fake your emotions only for the video. because it is your jobs.

lando laughs with the makeup artist who is adjusting his makeup. he lifts up his eyes and then he sees you walk in the room. you smile and greet the staff, waving your hand to some acquaintances. and in this moment he daydreams. he stops himself on you. your smile, the way you act with people around you with the kindest words and purest actions. he's mesmerized by you. and he hates it.

you make everything so difficult for him. why do he constantly have this problem ? this need to keep an eye on you, to lay eyes on you at least once a day. to be sure you're present and if you're not then he's always questioning himself, he thinks about you. why he's so attracted by you ? he thinks that he always hated you, that he was sure that this curiosity he had for you at the beginning had turned into hatred. but ultimately maybe he was lying to himself.

he only wanted to protect himself from his lack of self-confidence from trying to approach you without any result, and he decided to bury his true feelings under a shell. he created this false illusion of hatred so as not to hurt his ego, not to remind him that he is completely in love with you. because deep down he always saw you as an inaccessible woman and he always wondered how a guy like him could say a word to a woman like you.

he was too insecure and you seemed to avoid and ignore him, so it hurt him because he wanted to exist in your eyes. and that's why he started to hate you. but this feeling of hatred is simply wrong. it's an excuse to hide his feelings towards you. but he realizes that. he doesn't deny it anymore, he knows how fucking bad he's in love with you.

"lando ? you're still with us ?" your voice rings in lando's ears and he comes back to reality. you're standing next to him, and the staff is ready to start the video. "yeah sorry. i'm ready" he says and gives you a decided look. stephanie checks everything. she adjusts the little details to make everything look perfect. but she frowns when her eyes fall on you. "can you please try to be more relaxed and act like you're actually like each other ?"

she walks quickly over you and put her hands on your shoulders "you need to be closer to him, the framing looks horrible on the camera" she says while moving your position. your feet walk by themselves and you're so close to lando now, your shoulders almost touch together. you have never been so close to him. you can even smell his cologne.

he looks a bit uncomfortable now, he shifts his position and clear his throat. he can also smell your perfume too and he's completely hypnotized by it. and by the closeness of your body. stephanie take a look on the camera and she thumbs up. "perfect !! now we can start the recording. please no noise!" she sits on her chair and gives you the signal.

you inhale deeply. it's going to be funny right ?

"hello everyone !! today we are here with the driver lando norris and we're going to play a little game together" you smile to the camera and then turn around to talk to the driver next to you. he does the same and when your looks meet, his heart starts to beat faster. you continue to speak and explain the game but he doesn't listen, he's stuck on your hand on his shoulder. you have never touch him before, because if you dare brush him you know he'll be so pissed off. and you either don't want to graze his skin.

but it's all for the work, so you have to do it and to obviously fake it.

lando doesn't want to show you and people that he's surprised by the touch and that he actually likes it. so to shield himself he keeps a straight face and glare at your hand before taking a step back. you would be lying if you said he hurts you with this sudden move. but what, you also need to fake your hatred towards him. so you react like nothing happened despite the way your heart pangs.

"so are you ready to choose me an outfit ?" you ask to the driver and he doesn't ever bother to look you in the eyes. "yes, i think i'll do a great job". you try to hold back a roll eyes and you smile while nodding. but stephanie claps and sighs "no it's so bad. i know you two can't barely stand each other but you guys need to grow up and understand that you need to work together. it looks like you're going to fight. please be serious and mature and make an effort to show that you are at least close"

you sigh and nod to agree with her because you know she's right. you can't act like this in front of the camera and millions of people. "we're sorry. we're going to fix this problem and do our best" "who "we"?" lando says and shoot a black look to you. you bite your cheek from the inside and roll your eyes. now you're getting annoyed. "shut your mouth and stop being stupid. do your job." you murmur to him with frowning brows.

"don't talk to me like that. we're not friends and we'll never be" he adds. he says that to look pissed off, but the truth is that he hopes you'll never be friends. because instead he hopes you'll be his girlfriend. "i ask no more" you scoff and you sound genuinely honest and sincere. which twist his heart and feelings. wouldn’t he have said that ? now he starts regretting what he have said. do you really want him to remain your enemy?

he can't argue back because the recording is taking up again. the recording is going pleasantly well and it surprises the staff as much as you two. lando seems to choose with precision and care your outfit. he does his best to match the clothes and he picks up the best items. and it feels like he's doing it not on purpose, but sincerely. it feels like he truly wants to see you well dressed and it kinda disturbs you.

you go change yourself into the outfit. and it's really beautiful. the clothes match perfectly and you can't lie, he did a good job. you found yourself admiring your reflection in the mirror. you're wearing an outfit chosen by your enemy - no wait by the man you secretly love, and you like it a bit too much.

it's time for the outfit reveals. the camera still records and you're hidden behind a curtain. "okay lando are you ready to see the final result ?" you ask a bit excited about it. "yes show me" he only replies. you pull the curtain and lando's eyes immediately land on you. ohh.

wow. he stopped to breathe. he stopped to talk. is it legal to be this pretty? no because you're taking his breath away and it's not good at all. the outfit fits you perfectly, and he's even more proud because he was the one to choose it. but seriously, he sincerely thinks you look gorgeous that he doesn't even realize you were talking to him. "so how do i look ?" you ask with a smile.

he's flustered. he starts to blush so hard and he rapidly looks away. he tries to say something but he stutters so much over his words. you're making him loose all his senses. he doesn't even know how to talk anymore. "y-you look... i mean it looks good". he pulls himself together and names the outfit rather than you because he doesn't want to admit that you are incredibly beautiful.

"yes i agree with you, it definitely looks good" you reply and smile to him. but not a fake smile like you'd usually do. no, it's a sincere smile, the one smile he loves seeing. he blushes even more and he clear his throat. some staff members notice how lando looks destabilized by you and they laugh. he is unmasked. but you see he's starting to get embarrassed and you decide to end the video now.

"you were perfect, thanks for your hard work" stephanie says and the others members thanks you too. the record stops and you rush to go get changed. you don't even glance at lando, you just look like you can't wait to leave the room and the driver. and the curly haired feels a little disappointed. for the first time he really wanted to talk to you and say a few words to you.

he hesitates to follow you. it would be weird if he suddenly come and talk to you when you can't even look at each other properly.

but he doesn't care. he wants to be confident. he rushes to follow you and before you could walk away from him he grabs your wrist. your second touch. it gives him shivers. and you too because he notices how your skin reacted to the sudden touch. wait, do you feel the same as him ?

"what ?" your frown and glare at him. he removes his hand from your wrist and looks away. he wants to speak but his words are running away. why he's like that around you ? "huh... i just wanted to say that you are actually... really pretty in this outfit" he says and blushes so so hard. you stop yourself. are you dreaming ? is this even real ?

is it really lando ? it's not a false lando norris right ? you blink, and he can clearly tell you're surprised. like very surprised. which is stressful because he starts to regret what he have said. he is sure that you will take his compliment badly and that he will be able to go fuck himself. but no. it's not your reaction. "oh... thank you lando. i guess ?" you stutter a bit, you don't even know how to react at this point.

your reaction make him laugh softly and for the first time since you met, a positive interaction took place between you. it's like a dream, it can't be real. you thought you couldn't have a good talk with him. you genuinely thought you and him couldn't make it together. but it seems for once that you are able to do it.

"let me change myself now please" you say because you're too flustered to stay with him right now. it's kinda awkward though. "oh yes sorry" he only replies and walk away without anything else.

now this one was truly surprising. first you managed to work perfectly well together and then he complimented you ? something is off. he couldn't have change in a day no ? it's just so strange. but yet you don't complain. you're happy about your interactions today. because it finally seems that you both can now try to be more friends and to know how each other.

two months passed since that day. and surprisingly everything was getting better with lando. now you great each other every day, the post race interviews are definitely entertaining and you both enjoy them now. he's making jokes sometimes when he's around you and he's always excited to record new content with you. your relationship really improved these past months.

and lando is still so fucking in love with you. he fell even harder for you since you started to interact more with him. now he only has eyes for you, you're the only girl he thinks about, the only girl he wants so bad. and you feel the same too. your love for lando doubled and the only thing you wish for is to be with him. to be his girlfriend. just as he wants to be your boyfriend.

today you need to attend a gala. most of the drivers will be there and lot of your colleagues and others presenters will be there too. it's an important event so you need to dress well and of course you must attend it. you finish your hairstyle and spray perfume on your neck. you're ready.

you make it to the place and you're welcomed by a huge crowd of people and fans. a lot of them try to reach out the drivers. every drivers and presenters are on the huge red carpet. there are many cameras and journalists too. it is very vibrant, very lively. flash come from everywhere and you try to find faces you know. and then you find your best friend.

you rush to oscar. he spots you too and he walks towards you. "y/n ! you took a long time to come" he says and hugs you. you wrap your arms around him too and pull back after. "sorry, there was traffic" you reply. he looks good. he wears a suit with a tie and it looks perfect on him. because he's not the kind of man to pull out costume. so seeing the boy you grew up with in this outfit is shocking. it makes you wonder if his teammate is wearing the same as him ?

lando finishes his interview. he gives a small smile to the journalist and joins carlos and charles over there. he's scanning the crowd. he's looking around. he recognizes some f1 presenters and he wonders if you are here too. he wants to see you. he wants to talk to you. but the only person he sees is his old teammate daniel walking to the group of drivers.

"hello guys. how you all feeling ?" he asks and shows his best smile. "good. though i'm tired of these infinite interviews" charles jokes but the boys all know there's some kind of honesty about it. "long time not see" daniel says as he pats lando's shoulder. "c'mon man you played games with me this morning" he rolls his eyes but grin. daniel laughs and wink at him.

a gap settles between the two but it is filled by the voices of the ferrari drivers. and then daniel speak again. "she's pretty" he only says. lando frowns and turns his head to look at his friend. "what ?" "the woman there. she's really pretty. i think she's a presenter. i often see her the paddock" daniel says and a silly smile take place on his face. lando follows daniel's gaze and his look falls on the one only girl he hoped his friend wasn't talking about.

you.

you're laughing so hard with his teammate that you almost trip and you have to hang on to oscar to avoid falling. and yes, indeed you are beautiful tonight. not that you aren't every day because he could literally spend the whole day admiring you but this long black dress which perfectly highlights your body has a lot of effect on him. but he knows he's not the only one you have an effect on. his jaw clench. no, his friend can't be interested in you. he does not have the right. lando was here first, he's the one for you not daniel. he needs to do something. he needs to keep daniel away from you.

"hah, there's much better mate... like this one girl over here, she's prettier by far." lando says in a nonchalant tone, and he points to a brunette who is also one of your colleagues. lie. it's a lie but he needs to do it. "really ? i prefer my girl. but i didn't know you had your eye on this brunette. good to know boy" daniel gives a wink to lando.

my girl ? did he really called you my girl ? jealousy fills lando now. daniel can't allow himself to call you like that. he does not have the right. only lando can call you my girl. you're his girl. well not really actually but still in his eyes you're his precious and favorite girl. he needs to try something else. "no that's not what i meant" "don't worry lando i'll try to get her number for you" he adds with an implicit smile.

the situation gets worse. it's not good at all. "no but i know her and i already know you won't like her. her name is y/n. you know she's horrible and she is like super super annoying. plus she has a terrible sense of humor. doesn't match with you." he ramble about you like you are the most mean person on earth. daniel looks confused but his eyes suddenly sparks. "oh it's the one girl you hate right ?" he asks.

lando hates his behavior now but he needs to save his opportunity. "yes that's her. i wish she could stop existing" he jokes but he's genuinely shocked by his own words. he wants to slap himself. how he hates himself for talking about you like that. he doesn't deserve you at all. "you know what i'm gonna talk to her"

and without realizing it, he sees daniel walking to you. lando's heart skipped a beat. no no no. it can't happen. you're his girl. you don't need daniel. jealousy is running in his blood and he swears he have never been this jealous over someone. he doesn't want to see you talk to an other man than him. he doesn't want to see you laugh with his old teammate because he perfectly knows you love his humor. no you can't give your attention to daniel. it is lando first.

"hello y/n !" daniel greets you with his white teeth smile. you stop talking with oscar and mirror his smile. lando rushes over and joins you. now there are three boys surrounding you. "hello daniel. hi lando !" you say and your smile widen when you look at the mclaren driver. his heart melt from your reaction, he notices how your eyes sparks when you look at him. "you look beautiful" daniel says then he adds "but lando thinks this woman over here his prettier than you. i think he might have a crush on her. but don't worry i'm here for you y/n".

lando sees red now. why daniel said that ? it's fucking bullshit, you're the absolutely only woman he has eyes for. he almost yells at his friend but he pulls himself together. he just hopes you won't listen to his bullshit. he's really pissed of now. you feel strange. like your heart painfully pangs. because you think now that lando already has an other girl in his mind. and it hurts. you thought you were somehow different for him. but you guess not. you try to change the topic because you're getting upset and sad. "wait how do you know my name ?" you frown confused and daniel laughs softly. "lando told me about you" he replies.

your gaze shift on lando. he talked about you to daniel ? it must have been positive then. you show your best smile to him and you can't help but giggle a little. but lando looks impassive, he doesn't even smile to you back. no, he's glaring at you. just like before. just like two months ago when he was hating on you. you don't understand. "oh and what did he say about me ?" you ask curiously.

daniel pats his friend's shoulder with a desolate look. of course it is part of the joke. "well he told me you're the most horrible and annoying person to ever exist. oh he actually said he wish you could stop existing but he was joking about that." daniel laughs but you are not. what ? is that true ? "excuse me... he really said that ? did he actually mean it ?" you ask to be sure.

lando knows he's in shit. he fucked up. he wants to say something but daniel cuts him off. "i think so because he literally said he hates you. but i think you already know that don't you ?"

daniel wasn't doing it on purpose at all. he knows that you both hate each other, which is why he allows himself to joke about your relationship. but he doesn't know that you've gotten a lot closer lately. lando didn't tell him about his feelings for you because he didn't want to show that he loves you. he kept pretending to hate you when he was with daniel and now this is what shit he's in.

"i... sorry i thought we got along well? that our relationship was better..." you look at the driver you love. he shows no expression.

so is he really like that? a big asshole to the end. you felt that he had changed, that he was starting to like you but in the end he is still the same idiot as before. he played with your feelings. and your whole being hurts. your heart pang so hard. "well if you believed it then maybe i should become an actor then" he scoffs and look at you up and down.

what is he doing? his behavior is truly shit and pathetic. he is losing the girl of his dreams because of himself. he is destroying the only person important to him. the only woman he wants to chase. he's so fucking bad he can't even take off this hateful role in front of daniel because he doesn't want to show that he fell in love with the girl he was supposed to hate. he's such a terrible asshole.

oscar doesn't understand either. because unlike daniel he knows lando's feelings towards you. he knows that his teammate is madly in love with you. so why this behavior? why is he doing all this? why is he hurting his best friend ? he looks at lando with a confused and angry gaze. "i'm sorry i need to get some water" you're about to cry in pain. you disappear quickly because you don't want to stay another second next to him. you have never felt like this before. you feel shit for believing in him. now he broke you in pieces.

daniel doesn't understand either what is happening. but some journalists are calling him for an interview and he excuses himself, saying he'll be back soon. now there's lando and oscar who remain together. "fuck" the curly haired curses. "fuck fuck fuck. shit. fucking shit. i fucked up everything" he curses more. oscar sigh and runs a hand in his hair. "indeed you did yes". his teammate looks like he's about to burst into tears. he knows he really did you wrong and shitty.

"see what you have lost" oscar says and shrugs. but him too is pissed off, he's mad at lando because this guy literally hurts in the most painful way his best friend. "why did you do that ? why did you mess up everything? i thought you really loved her!!” "because i do !! i do love her, she's my everything. she's the only person i care about. she's the only one i think about and she's making me loose my mind and i don't see my life without her oscar. for fuck sake i'm so in love with her and i know i don't deserve her"

lando goes around in circles. he's getting tired of it. "you really disappointed me you know. but it makes me feel sorry to see you in this state, so even if i don't like it, go chase after her" oscar pushes his teammate in your direction. he doesn't want to see lando desperate like this. he knows you love him and that lando loves you too. he can't stand seeing you two suffer when you're literally fighting for each other.

lando finds you in a hidden spot. you let a sob out of your mouth and it breaks his heart. his whole being even. he sees tears falling down on your cheeks and he curses at himself for being the reason of them. he carefully approaches you but you notice him. you're about to walk away but he grabs your wrist before you could run. "y/n"

"no. go away. i don't want to be near you" you bluntly pull back your hand from his grab. "no please y/n listen to me" he tries once again. you scoff and roll your eyes. he thinks it works like that ? "what ? i don't want to listen to you." you struggle to not yell at him. "i didn't intend to say theses things you have to trust me"

he digs himself in deeper. "oh what, now i need to trust you like i used to trust you when i thought you liked me ? you're shit lando" you start to walk away but he stops you once again. "leave me. i don't want to hear your excuses" you try to release his hand from your arm but he doesn't let you go. "no. listen to me. i don't even know why i acted like that and you don't realize how much i hate myself right now. this is not what i wanted to do. this is not what i want"

new tears fall on your face but you don't care at this point. you don't even have the energy to argue back. you can't stop crying. "so what do you want then ?"

"you" he answers without hesitation.

oh. you didn't expect this answer. his other hand grab gently your arm and he takes advantage of your lack of reaction to pull you into his arms. "now really listen" he starts and wipe a tear from your cheek. "i know i'm a piece of shit that don't deserve you. i don't even deserve to talk to you. i'm really a dick because i hurt you so bad and trust me it truly breaks my heart because i'm the man who broke your heart when i was supposed to take care of it"

"i never hated you. never. i was always attracted to you and i know i fell in love with you since the first time i laid eyes on you. every single day i begged to have a chance to talk to you. but i wasn't confident enough and i preferred to act like i hated you when all i wanted was to beg you to give me just a chance" he feels your body relaxes and he pulls you even closer. you can fell his breath on your neck.

"you're not even a little annoying. you are the complete opposite of horrible, you are the kindest and most caring person i know. i want to slap myself for saying i wish you didn't exist. because it's a fucking lie. i can't live without your existence. i can't imagine my future without you. you're taking my breath away and you never leave my mind and thoughts. i know you're the love of my life and i waited for you this long. and i'll never let you go now that i found you." he finishes in a sob and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

"lando..." you hum. "shhh don't talk. it'll be alright baby" he murmurs against your ear. he strokes your hair with one hand and your back with the other. he places a soft kiss on your head. "i fell very hard for you baby. i'm so in love with you. i'll never stop loving you i promise" he says and you just nod. "i love you so much too lan" you simply answer.

"and that one brunette girl daniel talked about ?" you ask with watery eyes. he laughs softly and cup your face "oh babe i don't even remember who she is. but don't worry love i only have eyes for you" he says and you simply smile widely. "i hope so".

he smiles too and look at your lips. "now kiss baby" he says in a whisper and leans in to kiss you tenderly. the kiss is so sweet and gentle, his lips moving perfectly against yours. he's delighted and he softly bites your bottom lip. you pull back and peck his nose. "so do you love me or do you hate me ?" you ask as he wipes away your last tears. he smiles bright and think before speaking again. "i think i hate you lovingly".

and his lips meet once again yours in a passionate kiss...

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 fic #lando norris fluff

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ur-local-anti-hero · 26 days

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Speak now (Marauders' version) Masterlist

Hi! this is the first time I'm posting in the Marauders fandom, and as my formal application I decided to write a series of different one-shots and drabbles based on Speak now :)

Therefore I present to you: Speak now (Marauders' version), in which each song has its own piece of writing for a diffent marauders era character.

Here is the masterlist, I'll be uploading it weekly, (at least once a week). First piece of writing will be up tomorrow.

Some clarifications: reader is fem! unless stated differently. English is not my first lenguage, so some mistakes are bound to happen, if you spot any don't hesitate to politely reach out.

If you want to be added to the taglist send me a message or ask!

Mine - Remus x reader

Remus swears he's never been more in love. "Flash forwards and we're takin' on the word together, and there's a drawer of my thing at your place" "You are the best thing, That's ever been mine" Domestic fluff

Sparks fly - Sirius x Pure blood Slytherin!reader + What happened after.

Dating a Black was not the problem, the problem was that is Sirius, a known bloodtraitor. “I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild. Just keep on keeping your eyes on me, it's just wrong enough to make it feel right” Hurt/comfort

Back to december - Remus x reader

Remus feels like he will regret that night the rest of his life, the marauders convince him to do something about it. “So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you, Saying I'm sorry for that night" It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine” Hurt comfort, second chance romance

Speak now - James x Malfoy!reader

If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion. “So don't say yes, run away now, I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door. Don't wait, or say a single vow, You need to hear me out” Hurt/comfort, Fluff, arranged marriage

Dear John - Regulus x reader

Maybe you should have listened to your best friend's warning about Regulus, you didn't. Now you just have to deal with the consequences. “Maybe it's you and your sick need To give love then take it away. And you'll add my name to your long list of traitors, Who don't understand" "And I'll look back and regret. I ignored when they said, "Run as fast as you can" Angst

Mean - Lily x reader

You had some words you'd like to say to Snape after he insulted the kindest girl you've ever met "All you are is mean. And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life" Hurt/comfort

The story of us - Sirius x reader

Sometimes your relationship with Sirius looked like a contest of who could be more prideful, but this time it's gone too far and all you want is to have him back. "This is looking like a contest, of who can act like they care less. But I liked it more when you were on my side, the battle's in your hands now." Angst, fluff

Never grow up - Wolfstar x daughther!reader (No voldy au)

Remus and Sirius watch their daughter grow up and wish she could stay as their little girl forever. “Don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple. I won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart. And no one will desert you, Just try to never grow up, never grow up” Fluff

Enchanted - Remus x reader (Soulmate au)

As soon as you saw him walking through the door you knew you'd love him forever. His first words only verified it. Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?". Across the room, your silhouette, Starts to make its way to me The playful conversation starts, Counter all your quick remarks Like passing notes in secrecy. And it was enchanting to meet you” Fluff

Better than revenge - James Potter x reader

Maybe fake dating your ex's best friend wasn't the best way of getting revenge "The story starts when it was hot and it was summer, and I had it all, I had him right there where I wanted him She came along, got him alone, and let's hear the applause She took him faster than you can say"Sabotage"" Fake dating

Innocent - Regulus x reader

After he realized what his parents have done Regulus can't help but breakdown, good thing you are there for him. “Did some things you can't speak of, But at night you live it all again. You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now, If only you had seen what you know now then" Hurt/comfort

Haunted - Remus x reader

Remus' worlds shifts entirely when his worst nightmare becomes true and he isn't sure if he is ever going to be able to look at you again when he is sure he has destroyed your life. “Something's gone terribly wrong, You're all I wanted.Come on, come on, don't leave me like this, I thought I had you figured out Can't breathe whenever you're gone, Can't turn back now, I'm haunted” angst hurt/comfort

Last Kiss - Sirius x reader

Breaking up with sirius was the hardest thing you've ever done. You can't help but miss the way his lips felt against yours. "I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets. How you'd kiss me when I was in the middle of saying something, There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions” Angst

Long live - poly!Marauders x reader (Band!Au)

All your hard work as a band has led you and the boys to this moment, nominated as the best new artist and attending one of the most prestigius galas in the music industry. “I passed the pictures around, Of all the years that we stood there, On the sidelines wishing for right now When they gave us our trophies, And we held them up for our town, and The Cynics were outragedScreaming, "This is absurd!"” Fluff

Ours - James x reader (Band!Au)

When people start to comment on James' personality is your job to make sure he knows how much he means to everyone, but specifically how much he means to you. “So don't you worry your pretty, little mind. People throw rocks at things that shine And life makes love look hard, The stakes are high, the water's rough. But this love is ours” Hurt/comfort

Superman - Remus x reader (Spiderman!Au)

Remus worries that his girlfriend will leave him when she learns the truth. You worry he is too oblivious to realize you already know. "I'll be right here on the ground, When you come back down. Tall, dark and beautiful. He's complicated, he's irrational, But I hope someday he'll take me away, And save the day fluff

From the vault tracks

Electric touch - Sirius x reader (College!Au)

Your friends are tired of telling you that he is going to break your heart. You'd let Sirius gamble with your heart as long as the chance of hapiness is there. “All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life. Got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life And I want you now, wanna need you forever. In the heat of your electric touch”

When Emma falls in love - James x reader

You navigate what's like to be in love with James 'Cause when Emma falls in love, she's in it for keeps She won't walk away unless she knows she absolutely has to leave” fluff Hurt/comfort

I can see you - Remus x reader

As much as you hated him, you couldn't deny his natural charm and the way he seemed to have a magnetic field around him that made you gravitate towards him, once and once again. “Passed me a note sayin’, "Meet me tonight", Then we kiss and you know I won't ever tell. And I could see you being my addiction, You can see me as a secret mission. Hide away and I will start behaving myself" Rivals to lover

Castles crumbling - Regulus x reader (Royal Au)

You loved him more than anything, you were the best thing that ever happened to him. But your love is impossible and forbidden. When he doesn't have anything left he runs to you, wondering if you'll love him now. “And I feel like my castle's crumbling down And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down You don't wanna know me now” Hurt/comfort, forbidden romace, fluff

Foolish one - Peter x reader

Peter is used to being the second chance, but he can't help but feel betrayed when his bestfriend and crush starts to get closer to Sirius. "Foolish one, Stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love That ain't never gonna come You will learn the hard way instead of just walkin' out" Hurt/comfort

Timeless - James x reader (Soulmate!Au)

James and you are fated to find each other in every life you live. "Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this, So even in a different life You still would've been mine. We would've been timeless" Fluff

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 2 months

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When you were gone

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol x GN! Reader

Description: You disappeared one month ago...

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

_____

You felt so sleepy. You go to your room, yawning. Tonight, you won't have a cuddle buddy. You tried to offer some cuddles to Kolya. But he refused.

"Sorry, Birdy, but I can't cuddle with you tonight. I will practice all night for the magic show."

You just nodded and left for your room.

"Okay. Goodnight, Kolya."

Your room's door closed behind you. Gogol feels a pang of guilt. You looked so lonely. Maybe, he should go to you and cuddle?

Nikolai shook his head.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will bring you coffee in bed and you two will cuddle.

You will be there tomorrow.

_____

Day 1

_____

You were late for breakfast.

Too late.

Everyone already were in the dining room, eating.

Nikolai smirked at himself. Were you waiting for him to arrive with your coffee? Well, give him a minute.

He was brewing coffee. Two cups. One cup was made to be perfect for your taste.

After preparations were done, Nikolai Gogol took the tray with coffee mugs, creamer and bowl of sugar and went to your room.

He will wake you up (by starting a tickle fight). Then you two will drink coffee.

Nikolai let out a small laugh. Maybe, he will plant a kiss on your nose after coffee will be drank.

He knocked on your door. You didn't answer.

Nikolai Gogol opened the door.

You weren't in your room.

He didn't hear the sounds of running water.

And your bed was made. And cold.

Did you go on a run? Or to the market?

How long were you gone?

When you will return?

Nikolai's eyes shrank, when he noticed your phone on the bedside table.

You left it.

You always bring your phone with you.

Nikolai had a bad feeling about it.

*****

It's been hours.

And you haven't returned yet.

It's been hours.

And all of them were searching everywhere.

It's been hours.

And you were nowhere to be found.

________

Day 7

________

Week...

It has been a week since you disappeared.

Everyone were devastated.

Nikolai fell down on his bed.

He didn't care, that the blood on his clothes will dirty the covers.

Today, he was searching for you.

He was 'nicely asking' some crooks, if they dared to kidnap you.

Ougiri have never used his ability as much as before.

And he will use it even more.

You still were missing.

You still were nowhere to be found.

________

Day 14

________

Two weeks.

They have been searching for two weeks.

For two weeks they were looking under every bush, every rock.

Trying to find just one clue. One little clue.

They gathered in the dinning room.

Sitting at the table.

Your chair looked dreadfully empty.

The table was quiet.

They can't say anything.

There were no news.

No good. No bad.

Nothing.

Oda's voice broke the silence.

"Q... Are you... Do you want to say something?"

Nikolai gazed at the teen.

They were silent. But the look on their face were empty. Q opened their mouth.

"I... Nikolai-san, two weeks ago... You were the last one, who saw [Y/N], right?"

Nikolai nodded, not understanding, where Q were going to.

Q nodded and bit their lip, hugging their doll closer. Toy's colorful clothes (your present for Q) looked out of place in this situation.

"I see... Why... Why didn't you stay with them? You were always talking about wanting to stay with Guiding Light forever. What happened with that?"

Nikolai's voice were a little bit louder, that of a whisper.

"I were practicing... For a magic show..."

"Were the practice necessary? Could you practice only that day?"

That he cancelled. Because he can't waste time on anything else, beside the search.

Q's unique eyes stared directly in Nikolai's mismatched eyes.

Nikolai stay silent. He could. He could practice in the morning. He could stay with you.

Nikolai's silence were enough to answer Q's question.

They stand up, put their doll on the table and walked towards Nikolai's chair.

Q took their own chair with them.

Q put their chair near Nikolai's chair.

Q stood up on their chair. Now they were looking at sitting Nikolai from above.

Q clenched their fists.

"If you stayed with [Y/N]… No one would be able to kidnap them..."

Q screamed.

"It was your fault!" Q's fist was small, but, the hit was painful. Nikolai covered his bruised nose.

Q were yelling, while Dazai was dragging them away. It was hard, because Q tried to get away from his hold and hit Nikolai again.

"If you stayed with [Y/N] they won't disappear! Don't you dare to say, that you cared about them! You never cared about them! You will never care about anyone! You will kill anyone, who came close to you! That was your plan, right? To get rid of [Y/N]? Did their love disgust you that much?!"

Dazai, with Chuuya's help, finally managed to drag Q to their room, locking the door.

And Nikolai was standing here. Unmoving.

"Коля... Как ты?"¹ Fyodor's voice sounded soft.

Nikolai swallowed and shook his head.

"I... I need to go..."

Before Nikolai could go away, Fyodor grabbed his shoulder.

"Коля, ты не виноват. В ситуации виноват только тот ублюдок, который похитил [Т/И]. Все мы знаем, что ты бы никогда и пальчем не тронул [Т/И]. Не вини себя."²

Nikolai didn't say anything.

Without looking at Fyodor, Nikolai returned to his room.

It wasn't true! He could never hate you! He likes you! You are his Birdy.

And you were still missing.

He loves loving you!

He didn't want to hurt you.

He missed you.

But, what if... Q were right?

What if he was the reason, why you were gone?

______

Day 21

_____

Nikolai's body was shaking. He was crying. There was no hope. There was no you. There was no clue.

Ever since Q accused him, everyone were checking on him. Everyone were worried about each other. And about you.

Nikolai tears start flowing again.

Maybe, it really was his fault that you were gone? If he stayed with you... No one could take you away...

Another cry filled the room.

"Пташка... Пташка моя... Мені так шкода... Будь ласка... Повернися... Я люблю тебе..."³

Nikolai whispered.

"Я люблю тебе..."⁴

And no one answered his call.

_________

Day 30

_____

Chew. Swallow.

Bite again.

Chew. Swallow.

Bite.

Chew.

Swallow.

Bite.

Nikolai blinked as he pulled his fingers from his mouth.

The teacup.

Nikolai took it.

Blow.

Sip.

Blow.

Sip.

Go through the motions.

Nikolai closed his eyes.

For now, that's all he needed to do.

Go through the motions.

Breakfast is over.

Put dishes into the sink.

Go to the living room.

Learn, where to go today.

Search for you.

Repeat and repeat.

_________

Earlier that day, the portal appeared in the barn.

And you finally returned home.

________

Two weeks later

________

Nikolai was sitting near your bed, holding your hand. You were shaking. You had another nightmare.

He squeezed your hand, trying to make you feel better.

"It's okay, [Y/N]. It's okay. You are home." whispered Nikolai. You swallow your tears. Nikolai carefully brushed your tears away.

"I was so scared... I missed you..." whimpered you. You wanted a hug, you wanted to be near someone.

Like he was reading your mind, Nikolai hugged you. He whispered into the tip of your head.

"Nothing will ever hurt you, Birdy. I will never leave you ever again. I promise."

You stay silent, resting your head on Nikolai's chest.

Kolya carefully pet your head.

'Ніщо тобі не зашкодить, Пташко. Я обіцяю. І я подбаю про те, щоб вони заплатили за кожну сльозу, за кожну краплю крові. Я їм покажу.'⁵ thought Nikolai Gogol, hugging you closer.

Maybe, that way, he will have the smallest chance to be forgiven. For being the reason why you were kidnapped.

________

¹Russian. "Kolya, are you alright?"

²Russian. "Kolya, it's not your fault. The bastard, who kidnapped [Y/N] are the only one to blame. All of us know, that you would lay a finger on [Y/N]. Don't blame yourself."

³Ukrainian. "Birdy... My Birdy... I am so sorry... Please... Come back... I love you..."

⁴ Ukrainian. "I love you..."

⁵ Ukrainian. 'Nothing will hurt you, Birdy. I promise. And I will make sure, that they will pay for every tear, for every drop of blood. I will show them.'

_____

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters

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e-dollly · 3 months

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◦○•~A New Addition~•○◦

Pairing: Dad! Azriel x Mom! Reader, Children(OCS)x Dad! AzrielxMom! Reader

Resume: Your kids come home to meet the new addition of the family.

Word count:1.1k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Grown-up children and a newborn maybe ?

A/N: So this is what happen when you combine running on four hours of sleep and extreme baby fever that has been going on for way too long. Please be nice as English is not my first language, nor as I don't write that often. I also took way too long to write this, but I really wanted to post it, so you guys are getting scraps eheh

Azriel always wanted a large family. He wanted to make sure his kids would never feel how he did during his childhood. Whenever he felt insecure about his ability to be a father, you always reassured him.

Now that your five children left the familial household, the house felt empty, and soon enough, you got pregnant again. 53 years after your last kid was born, your mate and you welcomed a new baby inside your heart, Nislae. She was born without any problem, as quiet as her father. She looked a lot like him too, inheriting his wings but also his hazel eyes.

About a week after you gave birth, you finally felt ready to introduce your little girl to the world, so you invited your five kids over. Your fourth kid, Valas, was the first one to arrive, as calm as ever.

Azriel was the one who answered the door and greeted him with a long hug before he led him to your private chamber. When they both entered, you were sitting up on the large bed, holding the small newborn in your arms while staring at her lovingly. As you heard the door open, you looked up and smiled widely at the sight.

"Hey there sweetheart", you said softly, "It's been a while. How are your studies going with Madja ?" you asked as he approached the bed. He was wearing a broad smile and sat next to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder in a side hug.

“Hello Mom. It’s been fine, she’s a bit rough on the edges but she’s really great” He said in a calm voice, looking down at his little sister. “She’s beautiful…What did you name her ?” “Nislae” You told him, looking back down at her

“Do you want to hold her ?” You proposed. He nodded and sat more comfortably on the bed, holding his hands out. You pressed a tender kiss on your daughter's soft forehead and placed her in Valas' waiting arms.

You leaned back against the bed and smiled softly at Azriel, who had slipped next to you into the plush bed. He wrapped an arm around you and extended his wing to cover you both. You watched as Valas grinned and caressed her head gently, whispering sweet words to the newborn.

The four of you stayed like this for a little while, until the bedroom door opened wide, and two of your kids walked in. Eleyana, your oldest daughter and Orian, your youngest son. Orian gasped at the sight and let out a little squeal.

“Mama, she’s literally so little and so cute !” He exclaimed, his large wings fluttering in excitement as he rushed next to you. He kneeled next to the bed and took your arm, holding it tightly against him. He had always been a Mama’s boy, contrary to the second oldest who strolled in with his arms full of presents. Aideron took a lot from Rhysand somehow, always imitating his uncle when he was younger. You sighed and shook your head at the sight of the pile of gifts he put down.

“I did tell you not to bring more than two things” You declared, greeting Orian and your first son with a tender kiss on their head. “You did Mama, but I thought that two gifts were not enough to show her how much we already love her” He answered, kissing the top of your head and hugging his dad tightly. You sighed again and chuckled softly.

Azriel knew someone was missing from the family scene. was pretty sure he had 5 kids before Nislae, and that made 6, right ? He wasn’t so sure anymore, going through the stress of having another kid and you going through hell and back to give him another child to love on. Yes, he was definitely missing a child. Eleyana was sitting next to Valas, who was holding Nislae, and Orian was snuggling with you while Aideron was sitting next to you. The only person missing was your third child. Your mate stretched his wings a little as he sat up.

“Do you guys know where Lyren is ?” Azriel asked, looking over the five kids here, surrounding you. His shadows were swarming around the room, mostly around the door to keep unwanted visitors away. Valas’ shadows were slinking on his wings but some of them slipped away and seemed to be playing with Azriel’s.

Orian shook his head as Aideron piped up “I think he might be with Nyx, they were together last night. They went to Rita’s to celebrate Nislae” He told the winged male. Azriel hummed quietly and looked back at his youngest, who was now in Eleyana’s arms.

You yawned and pulled Azriel down, wanting to snuggle with your mate. Nislae started crying after being passed around in everyone’s arms, making you sit up instinctively, reaching for her immediately. Aideron gave her to you carefully, just as Lyren burst in, making you all jump, which caused the youngest to cry even louder.

You grabbed her quickly, shushing her as her cries made Azriel glare at your latest son to arrive. Nislae kept on screaming her head off, pushing her little legs and arms out, kicking up a storm in your arms. You were used to calming a newborn down, you did have five children before. But it also has been 53 years since you’ve had a newborn.

After a few minutes, you managed to calm her down and get her to nurse. Azriel smiled softly, leaning back into the numerous pillows. He pulled you onto his side while your kids fell back into place. Orian snuggled into your side while Eleyana laid next to your mate, Lyren settling down on her side. Valas squeezed himself between Aideron and Orian, smiling up at you after a little while.

“Hey Ma ?”

You hummed back in answer, glancing at Lyren, already sensing a stupid question. “I didn’t know dad still had it in him to make you pregnant” He teased. Azriel, whose wings were wrapped around your large family, twitched as he answered

“I think I might show you that I do have some things in me when I beat you in training” He taunted, swating his head lightly. Your kids kept poking fun at each other for a little while, until you fell asleep quietly, your daughter laying in your arms, fast asleep too. Soon enough, your whole family was asleep, gently caressed by your mate, daughter and son’s shadows, just like 53 years ago, but with another little head to love.

Tags : @caroline-books

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acomaf #acotar x reader

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iwritesinsnottragedieshoney · 9 months

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litty swimsuit (spencer reid)

paring: spencer reid x reader

summary: the team vacations at rossi's summer residence while spencer reid deals with insecurities, emotions beyond his control, and a y/n litty swimsuit.

genre: i guess fluff, but towards the end it changes into the beginning of smut, but nothing serious, actually.

warnings: spencer being a little insecure; one or two curses; some sexually tinged comments; maybe some spicy scenes at the end, but, like i said before, nothing hard; a lot of use of the phrase "frown".

word count: 11, 631

notes: this is the first time i post anything here and the first time i write something about spencer so i hope i didn't screw things up. english is also not my first language, some words may be used incorrectly just because the translator thinks it's a synonym and i believe him, so… have fun :) (every pic is from pinterest, i don't own them).

spencer walked out through rossi's glass door, his nostrils filled with the unmistakable smell of chlorine, mixed with a hint of summer afternoon and sunscreen.

the sun was in its full stage and he frowned slightly at the thought of the impact of sunlight on the human body and the consequences of the time spent outside then — he focused mainly on the negative ones, because they came to his mind the fastest. but he immediately pushed them away, frowning even harder. aside from forgetting his sunglasses from his room, he remembered what morgan had told him when they arrived at rossi's summer house: you need to chill out a bit, man. look, a whole week off work and a whole week with y/n in a swimsuit! she told emily it's litty.

spencer didn't understand a few things at the time, and unfortunately for him, they were all centered around y/n.

first of all, he had no desire to chill out a bit and didn't look like he was going to be able to do that anytime soon. two weeks ago there was a chance for a vacation for the whole team. someone (emily) discreetly remarked (gathered everyone in the check-in room thanks to garcia who sent everyone a flashing, unlockable message to the work computers) that it would be nice to spend time at rossi's summer residence at that time, which he readily agreed to (not really, but everyone had time to nod their heads appreciatively over garcia's presentation, where she presented the arguments for and rossi was bribed with the idea of themed Italian evenings).

spencer obviously didn't mind spending time with the team. apart from them, he didn't really have any other friends, and his mother was going to be involved in activities that would conflict with his possible visit, so he had no plans. he even lifted the corners of his mouth for a brief moment. that subsided, however, when the travel talks began a few days later, and y/n elbowed him lightly in the ribs and said she had a bunch of light and silly romances ready so she could read one a day, which is pretty much like as if they were reading at the same pace. then he realized that if he spent a whole week with the team, he'd spend it with y/n as well, and his stress-adrenaline spiked so high he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying to his desk at the time.

it's not like he didn't like y/n. because he liked. actually, very much so. derek said he's totally head over heels.

and guess that was the problem.

when y/n joined the team, which happened exactly six months, eight days, twenty-one hours and thirty-two minutes ago, she totally turned his head, as penelope said. she was the most beautiful girl he had ever met, and her smiles were either very wide or delightfully stretchy (these were spencer's favourites, because then there were tiny wrinkles around her eyes and her cheeks were slightly pink), and when she greeted meeting him for the first time, she raised her hand in an awkward greeting at the same time he did, then laughed out loud before finally saying her name with the smile still on her face.

he wasn't sure if he was just imagining it, and he didn't even want to check if it was, but he felt that y/n had become a very good friend to him. someone who listened to what he had read last time in a new science article that appeared in a kiosk outside his block and didn't roll his eyes; someone who showed up with coffee and a donut when he was having a bad day; someone who used to come to his hotel room when things were done with chinese takeout to watch documentaries on TV; someone who played cards with him (even if y/n made up her own rules that were often meant to win only her); someone who eventually became more than just a good friend to him.

he couldn't even tell when he wished they were more. all he knew was that there was no chance of any change in that direction between them. girls like y/n weren't interested in guys like spencer, he knew it. he didn't want his stupid feelings to end. he liked the fact that y/n was somehow close, and if only she knew how he felt about her, he wouldn't have survived the humiliation of rejection.

anyway, when spencer realized that y/n would also be joining them on the trip, he panicked slightly. since she'd joined the team, they'd only spent time together at work and on field case, and that made their relationship somewhat limited (reason infinite why spencer thought maybe even their friendship was a bit forced). spencer would never have dared to offer her anything else because she might think he was asking her out (he hadn't asked derek yet, but he was pretty sure going to a museum to see the remains of a newly found tomb didn't count as a date, but he preferred not risk), and then she would surely refuse, which is why they did not meet outside of work. unless it was about going out to bars with the team.

y/n never proposed anything either (derek said it was because spencer wasn't giving her enough indication of his interest in such a proposal, but spencer thought being neutral about everything about y/n was safe and a chance to be too pushy), so spencer only confirmed his conviction. he was destined to be friend.

however, he began to have merciless thoughts about the possible end of their relationship, precisely because of the vacation trip to rossi's summer estate. eventually y/n will have to realize that spencer is actually incredibly boring, and his habits, behaviors, and interests are not at all caused by the situations that another case puts in their way. he will understand that spencer watches TV documentaries not because there is nothing more interesting on the hotel TV, but because he likes to do it. after all, no one willingly watches television documentaries! everyone knows it!

and on the one hand he knew that these thoughts were irrational rather than worth considering, but on the other hand he watched his surroundings for any signs that might prepare him for an imminent farewell to the warm feeling he felt inside when y/n appeared on the horizon.

spencer was sure that there were plenty of other things that y/n could find out about him during the trip and lose interest in him even at the level of work colleagues, so from the beginning of the trip he tried not to drive the stress reel and didn't think about it anymore, and it was either better or worse.

the other thing he didn't understand about derek was the y/n litty swimsuit. to be honest, spencer wasn't very interested in the y/n swimsuit until derek mentioned it. he didn't even combine the trip with swimsuits. but now he was definitely interested in it, and he was horrified that he was beginning to think of his co-worker and best friend in that context. he tried not to imagine it too often, but his thoughts involuntarily wandered in that direction when they were filling out reports at the office a day or two before, when he was in the shower, when he was going to bed, and when they were on the plane here. so, well, he wasn't doing very well.

but back to when he left rossi's house for his backyard swimming pool — derek was right, he needed to chill out a bit.

the swimming pool was rectangular in shape and was crossed by a volleyball net; on one side were hotch and morgan, and on the other side, emily and jj, who were clearly already engaged in the game for good, as the cheers directed at the men indicated victory and their considerable excitement. reid remembered derek's words again and refrained from telling them about the dangers of exerting himself in a place that was so exposed to the sun's rays. chill out a bit.

he descended the small steps to the stone path that flanked the pool, only guessing how hot the slabs of stone could get under his slipper-protected feet. he noticed that rossi, who was doing a crossword puzzle, was sitting at a table covered with a red umbrella, and probably wouldn't look up even if an african elephant ran in front of him. morgan's words rang again in spencer's ears, and he didn't stop to look over the man's shoulder and solve a few passwords. chill out a bit.

so reid walked on, toward white, comfortable-looking loungers. they were tucked away in the shade, far enough away that the noises coming from the pool wouldn't be annoying and that their distance wouldn't seem exaggerated. on one of them was penelope, holding a glass of iced coffee in one hand and a kindle in the other, which she was staring at intently.

spencer looked around discreetly, but saw no y/n anywhere. he knew she was the first to leave the house — at six o'clock in the morning he wasn't awake enough to get up, but he heard her soft footsteps down the hall and the slam of the front door. he didn't know where she was, but when he opened his eyes again, the whole team was downstairs, discussing something quite loudly. it was early afternoon now, and spencer was angry with himself for not being able to get up early enough. he felt as if he didn't know as much as the others. as if he missed something.

he sat down precariously on one of the deckchairs, the one closest to penelope's, and gripped the leather-bound book he'd brought with him a little tighter. he ordered it from his local bookstore a month ago, and the delivery difficulties only made him want to devour it whole, but now, when y/n wasn't around, he somehow didn't feel like opening it. he involuntarily looked towards the garden, remembering that when they arrived three days ago, y/n had disappeared there for a good hour. maybe she went to see that little pond she'd been telling him about...

"what are you looking for?" garcia's suspicious voice reached his ears, and he immediately felt a treacherous blush rise to his cheeks. "or rather, for whom."

she added the last one with a noticeable smirk in her voice, as if she knew the answer to her question all along, and spencer wouldn't be surprised if she really did.

he looked at her, still slightly surprised by her unexpected remark; the blonde lifted her sunglasses so that they rested on top of her head, her fingers gently, almost soundlessly, tapping the kindle's surface.

he noticed that her nails were painted a dark blood red. just like emily wore. and jj. probably similar to y/n. apparently it was the result of their ladies' night last night, which had dragged on until one in the morning, which spencer knew because there was a wall between his and emily's room that was thin enough for him to hear music and laughter coming from the room. that was the main reason why he got up later than the others today.

"i don't..." he began, but before he could somehow prevent a minor annoyance that would surely have lasted into the evening, the patio doors slid open and shut just as forcefully.

spencer looked over at them, frowning at the glare of the sun.

y/n trotted hurriedly towards them, her thick-soled flip-flops making a distinctive sound with each step she took. she was wearing a slightly tight, ankle-length skirt of mesh material with a lining and a light green tank top with thin straps. in her hand was a shopping bag, which she placed between spencer's and garcia's sun loungers. her chest was rising and falling at a rhythmic but not too fast pace, which indicated she was in a hurry.

“i will never go back there again,” she declared, plopping down on the lounger where spencer was sitting. she was clearly addressing penelope, but a second later she was elbowing him in the shoulder. "where have you been all morning? the vacation book club meeting must have started without you, though i swear i fought like a lioness."

even if she wasn't quite close, he could smell her cherry mist, and when he looked a little closer, he noticed that thin strings of a bikini trailed up from underneath the tank top and tied in a bow shape at the nape of the neck. chill out a bit.

"i overslept," he stammered, wishing he was someone with a better explanation.

"oh no, is it us?" y/n looked genuinely worried. „jj and i tried to turn the music down but emily was adamant. and then we went a bit too far with the alcohol and music was the last thing on our minds."

"no, i... forgot to set my alarm clock." thought up on the spur of the moment, but y/n tilted her head slightly doubtfully.

she didn't comment on it, though, because her attention was drawn to penelope, who until then had been interested mainly in the lines of text on her kindle, now clutched it tightly to her chest and, her lips parted in excitement, leaned towards y/n.

"did it work? does the red nail theory work? answer, woman!" her eyelids were wide open and her pale cheeks flushed a little pink.

"what is the red nail theory?" spencer asked, frowning again, this time in confusion.

he was used to the fact that he didn't know much about currently pop culture and usually had to get information from team members or search the internet himself. he did it a bit more often lately, because y/n would run into the office from time to time and tell him in an emotional voice about the latest happenings in the world of celebrities that he had no idea about. but if y/n was interested, he wanted to, if only so he wouldn't stand there stock-still and nod his head in an attempt to understand.

"oh, it's such a stupid notion that if you paint your nails red, guys will stick to you like flies," she replied, as always without impatience, waving her hand dismissively, which only underlined her attitude towards the matter. spencer, however, saw the red on her fingernails.

“it's widely believed that the color red symbolizes passion, desire and, of course, love. a survey was conducted which revealed that…” spencer began, unable to resist sharing this information with her; he stopped, however, when penelope waved a kindle in front of his nose, as if to chase away a persistent insect.

"y/n! did mark make a move?!”

"who is mark?"

in his defense, it had slipped out faster than he had time to think. the tone in which garcia's question was uttered indicated that mark had already been the subject of conversations and was obviously known to someone other than y/n. that in turn meant (spencer unintentionally connected the assumption with his own suspicions) that y/n was romantically interested in someone, and probably someone — how could not — reciprocated. especially since the woman's cheeks had turned slightly pink.

spencer felt his stomach turn inside out; never thought he had any chance with y/n, but sometimes it was nice to daydream a bit. but now those dreams had become almost utopian, though earlier, he liked to tell himself, they had been possible if he hadn't been such a coward and had perhaps agreed to go to the gym with morgan.

“he's a clerk in that little shop we passed on our way here. remember, the one with the white wooden sign and the blue lettering. anyway, penelope thinks he's a muffin ready to munch, which i guess means he's relatively attractive," y/n replied again, in the same tone as before; this time, however, she didn't wave her hand, but ostentatiously rolled her eyes.

"hello? when will it be time to answer my questions?” the blonde got impatient and slid her legs off the lounger and seemed ready to pin y/n to the ground and force all the answers out of her.

y/n smiled softly (apparently the danger in garcia's eyes was no problem for her) and bent down to reach for the shopping bag at her feet. she was clearly looking for something and was knocking over the rest of her purchases as she did so, but she took her time to answer penelope.

"i'm not sure about that theory, pen. i bought you a couple of canned sodas and some magazines from the display at the back of the store, and mark was mostly looking at my boobs, not my nails. this confirmed what i had always thought of him — that he is quite a jerk. i don't know, girls, maybe you should be interested in someone valuable."

spencer lifted the corner of his mouth, the one that the others couldn't see; he didn't know the whole mark, but enjoyed the way y/n thought of him. he just didn't know who he was. he liked to think he wasn't a jerk, but he wasn't sure he was valuable either. he was curious if there was anything in between.

“this is not some husband contest, y/n. it's our carefully crafted hot girls summer," penelope reminded her, and this time she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

reid refrained from asking another question.

“then i'm afraid our hot girls summers are quite different,” y/n replied, finally pulling a few magazines out of the plastic bag and stacking them neatly on her lap, frowning in concentration. “i bought rossi another crossword puzzle because i saw him finishing the one in the morning paper. jj and emily said they didn't need anything but i bought them a gossip magazine anyway. the only thing i didn't know was what to get hotch... anyway, penelope, i didn't spend a dime on you. it's for those stupid messages you've been sending me all morning! and for your information, my inner tigress didn't pounce on a couple of ribs."

penelope moaned martyrdom, throwing her head back and returning to her previous position, turning on her kindle again. y/n didn't seem too concerned about it, in fact, not at all, and turned around a bit to face spencer. her mouth stretched into that familiar excited smile, and her cheeks seemed to still be tinted with a soft pink as the woman proudly held out to him a sealed magazine with a dvd inside.

"dr. reid, here's the second part of the documentary we started watching during this case in baltimore." her tone was high, but spencer still sensed a hint of laughter in it. “on the way back i also saw a nice restaurant that delivers orders. it's not chinese, but i don't mind indian food. you like indian food, right? i can look for something else, i think i saw something at the end of the pier...

“indian food sounds nice, y/n,” spencer said reassuringly, giving her a small smile.

it all sounded nice. it was nice to think that y/n looked at the popular science section and thought of him; about wanting to watch a nature documentary with him and eat takeout. spencer didn't want to think otherwise, and even thought that maybe all his fears about leaving weren't very rational.

"oh god, i hope you guys gonna fuck while doing this or i'll drown you in the pool..." penelope's totally serious voice broke the smiling silence between them like a knife blade.

spencer made an indistinct noise, blushing to the tips of his ears while y/n seemed extremely angry.

“you know what, pen, i'd rather fuck spencer with a documentary on africa insects running in the background than go out with all that mark. i bet he's an indebted loser who doesn't even own a boat, which would be quite derogatory given the name his shop bears." hissed y/n.

spencer felt like he was shrinking with each passing second; y/n's hand and the magazine it held were digging into his chest, and penelope's eyes shone again with a dangerous glow, which together with the accusing finger was quite a disturbing sight.

"i see! so he invited you after all!” she exclaimed, and y/n dropped the magazine from her hand, which with a rustling sound fell to his lap and arranged her hands in such a way as if she wanted to strangle the blonde.

"yes, penelope!" y/n raised her voice. “he said something like maybe we can go out together or something and i said yeah, rather not, or something and immediately left the place. are you satisfied yet?”

penelope frowned a bit and sank back into the chair with a clearly disconsolate expression. she felt a little silly, just like y/n, who tried to straighten up a bit to give herself some dignity and brushed her skirt off her knee as if there were a few crumbs there, but they weren't.

"are you sure he was looking at your boobs and not your nails?" asked penelope after a moment.

"yes."

“well, then he is indeed a loser without a boat. pity. i liked his chin."

"oh, penelope," sighed y/n and smiled slightly as the blonde did the same.

y/n bent down again to put the magazines back in the plastic bag, and spencer moved his leg slightly, hoping the tense atmosphere had just ended. he didn't quite know what he could do if things got worse. he was also pleased to hear about the reunion of mark and y/n. he hoped he'd gotten away with it and wouldn't try to be interested in her again, but at the same time he wondered what he'd do if he heard the y/n words himself. yeah, rather not, or something. it sounded like his personal hell.

"pretty girl is back!"

they looked towards the pool. morgan was walking toward them in red swimming trunks that went past his knees, arms wide open, the corner of his mouth raised dangerously. apparently the little volleyball match had just ended; hotch was disappearing inside rossi's house as jj and emily were slowly approaching them.

"so what? we are going to play the game?" morgan asked, aiming the words at the y/n.

for a brief moment, the woman's face showed surprise, but then her mouth curved into a mocking grimace.

"if i didn't know you, morgan, i'd think you liked being humiliated. sure we're playing, i just need to get changed." y/n got up from the lounger and, grabbing the shopping bag, headed for the patio doors. as she passed the morgan, she looked over her shoulder at him, whispering, "i'll destroy you."

"you wish, honey." derek snorted, but it was hard to tell if y/n had heard his words because she didn't react to them in any way.

you wish, honey. he wondered what reaction y/n would get if he called her that nickname. he wasn't very good with words and it would probably end up painfully awkward. spencer would like to be like morgan — smooth in conversation, which he was able to combine with his appearance. would like to talk to y/n per honey. or whatever y/n finds attractive.

spencer saw the woman stop by rossi and hand him a crossword puzzle book, and the man patted her hand, giving her a smile. he didn't even notice how it appeared on his face as well. y/n was good, generous and open-minded, and spencer knew he could count on her, and that other people important to him could count on her, too.

"come on reid, get ready." threw derek in his direction, waking him from his lethargy.

spencer looked at him with surprise and maybe a little fear in his eyes. after years of being near derek's desk, he was used to the little teases derek gave him — he understood that they were never intended to hurt him, and he usually brushed them off or tried to respond to them in a similar way. but he also knew that sometimes morgan couldn't keep his mouth shut, and he feared that derek's swashbuckling smirk had something to do with y/n. he didn't know what it was yet, but he sure had it.

at the same time, emily and jj also appeared, sitting together on the deckchair on the other side of penelope and smiling at them, clearly tired.

"morgan, haven't you had enough? i wouldn't mess with y/n, she's pretty good at this stuf," emily muttered, scratching her ankle. "if i were you, i wouldn't pick myself up after a second failure."

"oh yeah, she took extra classes when she was in high school." jj supported her, nodding her head.

"oh please. i gave you a head start. like the gentleman i am." derek leaned forward with his hand on his chest, and they shook their heads in amusement.

spencer was about to ask what exactly it was about when the patio doors slid open again. automatically he looked towards the terrace and involuntarily parted his lips.

for a brief moment he thought he couldn't make any sound, let alone understandable and logical words. he didn't know what made him more emotional — how pretty y/n's face looked in the two braids that were now bouncing gently with her steps, or maybe the fact that her swimsuit was really litty and even spencer's mind wasn't in the mood could prepare him for how amazing she could look in it.

it was a two-piece, bottle green. spencer could see the bindings that held the top of the suit together — the ones at the nape of his neck (which he had seen before) and moments ago when she had her back to him for two seconds, closing the door behind her, also the one on her back. in addition, on both sides of her hips there were similar, but indetachable, decorative strings.

despite his sincere wish not to think too much of her in that particular sinful way, he had to refrain from imagining a moment when he would be allowed to pull either of them.

“i was just telling a pretty boy to get ready to kick his ass,” morgan said as y/n stopped in front of them.

"you didn't mention any kicking my ass and i still don't know what you mean," spencer replied, then frowned as penelope put in something from her kindle about how she liked it when he said ass.

"oh yes." y/n grabbed the end of one of the braids and gave him an apologetic look. “so a month ago morgan saw my volleyball medals while he was helping me redecorate my bedroom and said we absolutely had to go against him because he thinks he’s totally rocking.”

"because i rock."

"anyway, this morning while you were still sleeping, i got a little competitive and got you involved too." she sounded like she was genuinely sorry, but when her gaze met derek, her tone changed completely. "so you better stretch yourself morgan or we're going to crush you completely!"

y/n shot both of her index fingers at derek, and he laughed out loud and walked off towards the pool, where the woman's narrowed eyes led him.

spencer swallowed hard and clenched his hands again on the cover of his book. it was a real disaster unfolding to the cheers of the girls as y/n started her warm-up with feigned zeal.

subconsciously, he knew that he wasn't some important part of this two-man team — y/n clearly had no plans to involve him in the game beforehand, and it probably came about as a result of everyone's familiar scuffles between her and derek. yet he felt his stomach turn inside out again as he thought about the fact that he would have to take part in a game in which he was hopeless in front of everyone else.

"y/n." the woman looked at him, with a determined expression on her face, although a moment ago she had just been training her menacing gaze under the supervision of emily, whose role of focused trainer was not going very well. "can we talk somewhere else?"

"sorry girls, we have to talk about our super tactics"

they walked to the opposite end of the pool, hearing the excited voices of the girls behind them, who were just in the process of coming up with cheering slogans. spencer felt even worse when he thought that apparently most of the team knew about the planned showdown between y/n and derek and were looking forward to it.

"the thing is, i hit in your direction and you take straight to his half and so twenty-five times..."

"y/n, i'm not good at volleyball. actually, i'm not good at any sport that requires physical exertion." he confessed, reluctantly interrupting her.

for a nanosecond, y/n's enthusiasm waned a bit, but then she frowned, confused.

"what are you talking about? i'm sure you're great. besides, you're tall!" she remarked, sending him a smile and shrugging.

"and what about it?"

"all volleyball players are tall." she shrugged again, and spencer sighed softly.

then y/n turned serious and placed her hands on his thin shoulders. even though her hands were only touching him through the gray cotton t-shirt he was wearing, spencer felt the tips of his ears turn red gradually.

the team knew about his reluctance to have close physical contact, and spencer made sure that all new people he met were also informed. he knew penelope had told y/n about it before the woman noticed him sitting at his desk, and he was grateful to her that he had missed this awkward conversation. however, spencer quickly realized that he actually doesn't mind physical contact as long as the person he's having it with is y/n.

her acts of kindness and friendship drew him into his terrible crush with each working day, and made him more and more aware of the need for her touch. he had even unconsciously searched for it, provoking occasions for his fingertips to touch hers, to pass documents, for her arm to brush against his as they walked down the not-too-wide corridor to the briefing room, and for his hand to be within reach, when one day the plugs in the office went out and it became completely dark.

he naively thought he was being discreet about it — but the team quickly noticed his lack of aversion to her touch and made jokes about it. spencer hoped that their remarks didn't reach y/n and that she didn't notice it herself — he was able to make do with whatever physical intimacy she unwittingly gave him.

however, he realized that y/n arranged the touch herself, almost on the same level as she maintained with the rest of the team.

now she was staring deep into his eyes, and reid hoped the red didn't spread to his cheeks as well.

"listen to me, spencer. i won't say it's just for fun because i'm fucking desperate to win and i'm not going to give morgan the satisfaction, but i will say that i believe your volleyball player is deep inside of you and just needs a gentle push to bring him to the surface," she whispered, which made spencer look pained.

"i'm afraid he's already there. he's floating, more precisely. because he's dead."

"you see? it's not so bad if you still have your sense of humor," she laughed, patting his shoulder, but her laughter died away as she crossed arms over her chests, leaning towards him with a worried expression. he tried not to show the disappointment of losing her hand on his body. "spencer, i can tell derek you don't want to play. i know i should have asked you first."

"what's going on there?! y/n, you can give up now!" derek leaned against the wall of his half of the field with a grin and waited for them to arrive.

they looked in his direction, but y/n quickly returned her gaze to spencer's face.

he knew that volleyball was not his strong suit. just as he knew the last thing he wanted was to humiliate himself in front of the team and, of course, in front of y/n because of it. but he noticed how excited she was. and he didn't want her to lose the sparkle in her eyes he saw when she explained their rather unreal tactics to him.

"i'll do it," he decided at last, nodding his head a few times, just in case, to confirm himself in this decision.

y/n opened her mouth in surprise and grabbed his wrist as he started towards the pool, forcing him to meet her eyes again.

"spencer, if you really don't want to, you don't have to."

"yeah, but suddenly i felt like kicking morgan's ass," he replied, though he didn't really know if he wanted to. he wanted to give her what she wanted, of that he was sure.

y/n stared at him intently, probably searching for something to contradict his words, but reid made sure his expression was convincing enough. in the end, the girl lost the fight with a huge smile, and from her chest came an excited sound like a combination of a squeak and a giggle.

"i like it when you say ass too!" she said and stole a kiss on his cheek, immediately turning on her heel and stepping into the pool.

spencer turned crimson and involuntarily raised his hand to touch his fingertips to the place where the muted pink y/n lips touched his skin. chill out a bit.

as he had predicted, he was not doing very well. emily, jj and penelope moved the sunbeds a little closer to the pool for a better view and started cheering for their team right from the start, which only distracted spencer and put even more pressure on him.

in addition, although he had suspected it for a long time, but now he was convinced of it, y/n, despite the whole package of good qualities, also had some worse ones, such as an unhealthy desire to compete and a need to be the best.

things seemed pretty stable at first — y/n let morgan go surfing first, definitely determined to win. she hit the first few throws and then ended them with a strong knockout of the ball that sprayed the water, announcing their first point. actually because of her, but y/n held up her hands for a high five as if it was a joint effort.

then there was a slight complication as derek hit the ball towards him, which spencer didn't expect at all and his bounce was too light for the ball to go over the net. y/n reassured him that everything was fine and kept playing, but spencer felt like the worst person in the world, especially since emily moaned in agony, even though that was only the first point lost (she had already taken another sip of something lemon yellow, but it wasn't lemonade and she was getting a little cranky).

y/n quickly rebounded and gained the upper hand, and spencer even managed to hit the ball a few times without sending it to the net or out of the water court. but eventually the losing streak came back and they lost points again, and a crease appeared between y/n's eyebrows that made spencer nervous.

it was twenty-two to nineteen for morgan, and the man had already indulged in a few snide comments. y/n with obvious impatience somehow made the ball finally hit the water on morgan's side and passed the ball to spencer with a serious expression.

reid liked it a lot better when he wasn't closer to the pool walls, and didn't get a few stressful stares on his shoulders while he was surfing, especially since he'd hit the ball out of court way too often. in addition, now he was sure that if he repeated it, he would hear a martyrdom moan not from emily's lips, but from y/n. then he would allow himself a small humiliating drowning.

he sighed softly, rolling the ball over in his hand. the kids at his school bounced it hard on the floor to give it a better bounce. spencer couldn't do that now, and he wasn't really sure if the tactic worked. every time he was in this place, he thought about how what he was best at would help him. however, there was not enough time to mess with physics.

he hit the ball down, grimacing, just in case.

however, contrary to his expectations, the ball went over the net and began to fall within the pool area, not on the stone path outside it.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw the corner of y/n's mouth twitch slightly upwards. the ends of her braids were wet with chlorinated water and dripping drops; spencer, wanting to preserve what little dignity he had, held back with all his might lest his gaze fall a little lower, where the drops ran down her skin and into the hollow between her breasts. he also judiciously ignored the fact that the soaked fabric of her bikini clung to her body, which seemed to reflect the sun's rays and seemed to glisten slightly. plus, her…

he couldn't say exactly what had happened, but he knew that one moment he was watching the y/n body moving in slow motion, and the next he was bended in half, feeling a dizzying, sharp pain shoot through his head. he remembered holding his hands to his face, feeling his nose twitch as still as a cartoon character who had just rung a big bell, and there was sudden chaos around him; several voices rose in surprise, someone close to him shouted his name, and the water around him surged, pushing him against the pool wall. he also felt something drip onto his fingers.

"god, spencer!" delicate, wet yet warm hands brushed uncertainly over his still veiled face, and spencer recognized the terrified y/n in that voice.

"dude, now you've got nothing left!"

"seriously, derek?!" y/n was furious, but when she turned to him again, her voice was soft but still nervous. "spencer, look at me. everything's all right?! pass the towel! rossi, go get the keys, we're going to the hospital! may be broken!"

the nose wasn't broken. which spencer knew as soon as he managed to get his questions answered from the panic-stricken team. no one noticed the swelling, and no hematomas appeared under his eyes; the profuse bleeding that y/n was trying to stop with more and more tissues, and the pain he felt didn't have to be signs of a fracture, though they could. the team wasn't going to take his word for it anyway, and hotch, though the most composed of the group, was firmly pressing on the accelerator.

spencer, apart from feeling like everything was spinning around him from time to time, he felt a bit overwhelmed; there was too much noise around him — his friends were arguing about who was to blame for his accident, y/n had her hand over his face (although he assured her he could still hold a few tissues) and was squeezing his hand tight, increasing the pressure when she was responding to morgan.

when they got to the hospital, and the doctor finally treated their panicked group, he only confirmed what spencer had suspected all along. he didn't even have a concussion, and this disturbingly profuse hemorrhage was caused by the rupture of a larger vessel. recommended ice packs and rest. something spencer could prescribe for himself.

they back to rossi's house in a slightly less nervous mood, though y/n didn't speak to derek, who had repeatedly apologized not only to spencer but also to her. y/n, however, seemed adamant and still preoccupied with the situation. spencer suspected she felt guilty because she had talked him into it, after all, though he had mentioned to her once or twice that it was nothing and that all symptoms would be gone by tonight.

as they crossed the threshold of the house, three waiting heads appeared from behind the living room wall, and again there was a din of explaining everything to the rest of the team, who had to stay because of emily's tip. spencer finally managed to get out of their company and quickly disappeared into his room before anyone noticed him.

from that moment on, two hours passed, which spencer spent lying motionless with an ice pack against his face. he stared at the ceiling and multiplied every now and then the number of panels on the floor. there was an eerie silence downstairs, and spencer wondered if everything was all right down there.

he was about to decide to get out of bed and go downstairs when there were two single knocks against his door. he called the person inside, and after a while a y/n head appeared.

"i have a bowl for your used ice pack and your book you left on the sun lounger," she said softly, smiling, seemingly slightly confused.

"come in," he replied, just as quietly, though there was no reason for them to communicate that way.

the previously awkward y/n grimace turned into her beautiful smile as she slipped inside, closing the door behind her. she was clutching his book to her chest and in the other hand she was holding the purple plastic bowl spencer had seen in the kitchen cupboard this morning.

he involuntarily smiled as he thought of how y/n reminded him of a small child who had just managed to sneak into a friend's room despite the watchful eyes of his parents — she jumped on his bed, then sat cross-legged and sighed heavily as spencer pulled the compress away from his face, to put it in the bowl.

"is it that bad?" he joked, raising his eyebrows to which y/n snorted mockingly.

"you don't even know how much. you look exactly the same!” she laughed as she placed the bowl with compress on the bedside table by spencer's bed. to do so, she had to lean over him, and this time the scent of her floral shampoo and mango lotion filled his nostrils; she must have taken a shower afterwards because he couldn't smell the chlorine on her. however, when y/n returned to her seat, her expression became a little more serious. "how do you feel? i know everyone asked you this way too many times already, but i'm really worried."

"much better. i think i've stopped feeling that throbbing pain, although that may just be because of the ice," he replied, smiling slightly. "and hey, you don't have to worry so much about it. i already told you it's okay and it's not your fault."

"yeah, but still. i don't know what we'd do if you slashed that pretty face."

spencer frowned as if he disliked her words, but y/n just laughed again. in fact, he had already wondered a few times if the fact that y/n called him pretty boy, like morgan, meant anything at all. a large number of voices in his head said that this was just another habit that the girl had picked up from derek, as she had done in the case of throwing balls of paper into the garbage cans. however, there was a part that made spencer's cheeks a little pink when he heard those words come out of her mouth. sometimes hearing it from her was completely different than hearing it from anyone else.

"yeah, morgan has already pointed that out," he said finally, feeling it had to be done.

it seems like y/n was just waiting for spencer to mention morgan because she suddenly gasped and jumped up on the mattress, frowning.

“you know, i was joking now, but it really pissed me off at the time! i was terrified because i had never seen so much blood while doing anything other than catching serial killers, and i thought it could end up much worse than a broken nose. and derek didn't care at all!" y/n's hands engaged the aggressive gesticulation mode that appeared on the horizon when she was really high. "i was so furious with him! and his irritating taunts on the way to the hospital!”

"what taunts?" he asked, confused.

of course he was aware that y/n and morgan had spent the entire drive to the hospital arguing, with garcia joining in from time to time, now trying to get them to agree, now putting in her two cents as if she couldn't hold back any longer. at the time, however, he was too preoccupied with his bleeding nose and maybe a little y/n touch as well to notice what exactly their heated discussion was about.

"never mind, suitably stupid for his level," y/n grunted, blushing unexpectedly and tucking her hair behind her ear, though not a strand fell to her cheek. “anyway, i had a bit of an argument with him, and now i feel a little guilty about him because, i have to admit, i went a bit too far. but i won't apologize to him so he doesn't think about it too much."

"but you'll reconcile, won't you? it would be a bit awkward if you won't," he murmured, partly to her, partly to himself.

before y/n could answer, however, the door swung open timidly after three hasty knocks. derek morgan's head looked inside, as if the man was well aware that they were talking about him and decided to intervene. however, there was a swashbuckling smile on his lips, the kind you couldn't be angry at.

"hey hey..." he crooned, smiling even wider. "how it's going?"

"how it should?" y/n answered the question with a question, annoyance evident in her voice. "he almost got a concussion."

"not at all," spencer interjected, but he was ignored by each of them.

"i'm sorry mom, it won't happened again," derek replied, making y/n utter an exasperated sigh. morgan walked in even though no one had actually invited him and approached them with a mysterious plastic bag in his hand. “penelope gave me a hint so i could think of a way to finally settle the conflict, and here it is: the chinese you obviously love. appreciate my efforts, pretty girl, they had to bring her from another town.”

"then i guess the thanks go to the supplier, mr. morgan," y/n noticed, and spencer saw that there was an amused sparkle behind the sternness of her gaze. the girl accepted the takeaway, much to morgan's satisfaction, and arranged it beside her. "nice of you. i stopped being mad at you about an hour and a half ago, but it's still cool."

morgan reached out to flick her nose and y/n slapped it, laughing loudly.

spencer, sitting with his legs stretched forward, leaned against the back of his wooden bed, watching their interaction. with displeasure he felt a nasty jealousy sprouting in his stomach; something about the sight of their casual touch, each of them knowing that this quarrel and the words that accompanied it had no meaning, made him almost see the green covering his fingers. and they had done it all right in front of him.

spencer laughed mentally. he was really pathetic — morgan and y/n were friends. and y/n still wasn't going to consider him, even if he got punched in the nose.

"oh, dude. i'd like to get punched in the nose too if it meant y/n would look after me," morgan sighed dreamily, turning to spencer, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"i'll take care of you too, morgan, if that's what you want. but before that, i'll give you a nose so we'll have one reason," y/n replied, causing the man to chuckle in an amused tone as he backed away towards the door.

"okay, i understand, i'm leaving now. have fun, kids," he said, then disappeared through the heavy door.

y/n shook her head, turning her body towards spencer. her silken hair, which had been braided since spencer had first laid eyes on her that afternoon, now fell over her shoulders, which were no longer covered by the t-shirt she had thrown on in a hurry as everyone ran around rossi's living room, occasionally catching spencer's shoulder, as if to reassure themselves that he was still standing there. she was wearing something a lot more elegant now, which belied spencer's idea that she had already showered. in that case, she'd already be wearing her yellow turtleneck pajamas, which spencer raised his eyebrows at the first time they had to share a room during the case.

instead of yellow turtles, reid saw a plain, rather thin, black shirt tucked into denim shorts. and it didn't look like a sleep suit. but actually spencer shouldn't be interested in that.

pushing those tactless thoughts away, he reached out for the plastic bag morgan had brought them.

it was filled with distinctive boxes, the sharp edges of which pushed the plastic bag apart, and the smell that wafted from them despite the paper reminded spencer of all those late nights spent with y/n in hotel rooms, during which the television was told by a weary voice about the life of individual species, and the woman was in the so close to him that her shoulder touched his. he only liked the smell for those memories.

y/n leaned over with interest to look at the bag as well. spencer realized after a short while that the girl's forehead was not far from his, and a little surprised by the sudden closeness, he lifted his head to look at her. y/n did the same, feeling his burning gaze on her and smiled softly without breaking eye contact.

for a brief moment, he felt as if there was absolutely nothing else around them. there were only y/e/c y/n irises, her lightly freckled nose that was to blame for the sun, and her pink lips. lips he would love to kiss. or even brush his own lips.

but before he opened it to say anything that might lead to that, his bedroom door groaned heavily, as it did when it was opened very slowly. they pulled away from each other almost immediately, turning their heads in their direction. spencer, for an irrational moment, even thought that hotch might be behind them, about to lead him out of his own room by the ear like a rascal of the worst kind. jesus, spencer, he reminded himself, you're a grown man. if you want to kiss a woman, you will.

however, it wasn't hotch's head that emerged from behind the door, but emily, who didn't seem as frisky as she had been a few hours ago. she eyed each of them and walked inside to the accompaniment of expectant silence from them.

"are you guys kissing?" she asked after a moment, an excited smile on her face as she tilted her head slightly.

"what? no!" spencer thought y/n seemed pretty flustered considering the fact that their faces were inches apart just moment ago and she was clearly trying to pretend that none of this had happened. well, nothing that spencer wasn't prepared for.

"say what you want. reid looks like a ripe tomato."

spencer choked on his own saliva, drawing the women's attention, and his hand immediately reached for the glass on his nightstand, which was half full of water.

"i-it's a compress." he wanted to somehow explain what his face looked like, but no one, including himself, seemed convinced (and the water had been standing here since last night and tasted bad).

"of course…"

"i thought you were going to look for a club," y/n put in a quick, drawing emily's attention back to her.

"because we're going. i just came to drop it off." emily held out a sealed magazine to her friend, in which reid recognized a nature documentary. "what a shame you're not going. it's always more fun with you."

"you'll be fine without me," she replied y/n, getting out of bed and walking over to the small TV set in the corner of the room. she sat down in front of the cabinet he was standing on and began unpacking the magazine with a concentrated frown. "thanks, emily. just don't overdo it this time, okay? you've already had a drink today."

"boredom!" the dark-haired woman dragged out the first syllable, grabbing the doorknob. "you talking like jj! i'm leaving before you infect me with your innocence!"

emily had indeed disappeared through the bedroom door, and after a while the sound of her heels could be heard as they left the floor in a hurry.

there was a silence in the room, one that y/n would surely describe as safely comfortable; such silences sometimes happened between them when they were filling out paperwork at their desks, sharing dried fruit (y/n loved dried apples, a fact spencer consciously remembered) when they were sitting side by side on the jet, sharing headphones because y/n wanted to show him her current musical obsession, or when they sat on the benches outside the office building during their lunch break and ate their breakfasts. they were good silences. and maybe that silence would be good too if spencer's brain wasn't working at full capacity. all the information he had gathered in the last dozen or so minutes was quite plausible.

"a penny for your thoughts, doctor," hummed y/n as she focused on pressing buttons on the rossi player; it was one of the more expensive ones, because it not only read vhs tapes, but also dvds. "i can hear them even from this distance."

"it's nothing, it's just... i wonder why you don't go out with girls," he replied after a moment's hesitation.

from his seat on the bed, he could see y/n's eyebrows frown a bit, but he wasn't sure if it was because of her ignorance about using the player or because of his words.

"i was about to go, i even let penelope rummage through my suitcase," she confessed. the player finally listened to her and slid out the dvd drive, where a disc with a nature documentary soon landed. “but i thought about the first day of our trip that i spent watching some action movie with morgan, and yesterday i got drunk with the girls. we miss each other a bit, don't you think? and today, when we finally did something together, you ended up in the hospital. so we'll lighten our spirits with some fun-facts about the insects of africa. how about that, doctor?"

spencer smiled weakly as y/n looked over her shoulder at him. now he felt even worse than when morgan had hit him with the volleyball — it all sounded to him as if y/n had decided to sacrifice a girls' night out of guilt and resentment for spending time with him.

“y/n, you should go out with the girls. it will probably be much more interesting than here with me,” he said finally, but as the words hung between them, he didn't feel any easier than he'd expected, and even harder. especially since y/n looked over her shoulder at him again, her brows heavily furrowed.

"you're kidding? i'd much rather eat chinese and watch a nature documentary with you than walk emily home drunk." she shook her head as if he had said the stupidest thing she had heard in a long time; the TV brightened up and showed the output page of the document. "by the way... we haven't watched anything together lately... i missed it."

"you miss it?" he stammered, perhaps a little too surprised in a voice judging by the way y/n was clearly confused, blushing.

“well, yes… i have the impression that this is our little tradition. you know, something that's only ours. i can't imagine morgan watching nature documents with us, because who would you whisper additional information into the ear first?” she asked, involuntarily laughing softly.

she got up off the floor, holding the remote in her right hand as she turned off the light with her left. the room went dark, and spencer swallowed hard, seeing the figure of y/n slowly approaching him, crouching by the nightstand to flick the light switch.

the light, dimmed by the lampshade, was a soft red that spread over the walls of the room. spencer felt like y/n had never looked so beautiful, and at the same time he felt the tension in the air.

"it's cool, i like it," whispered y/n, sitting tentatively on the edge of the mattress, near his hips. "but you've been acting weird lately and we stopped doing that."

"weird?" he repeated, frowning. god, he wanted so badly to place his hands behind her ear at that moment and pull her to him; he wanted the moment before emily came back.

“you stopped talking to me, starting conversations on your own and all. i felt like i was the only one trying. every time i walked into the room you and the team stopped talking and all eyes were on me. i don't need to be a profiler to know you were talking about me. but everyone said it wasn't about me, so i guess i let it go a bit and tried not to think about it too much, but it still wasn't the same between us." as she spoke, y/n kept her head down and didn't seem to want to look up at him. "i thought you'd come to my room when we had a case in chester like always, but you didn't. and not later either. and later too. and you acted like nothing happened. plus, it really annoyed me that you stared at me without saying a word, and when i asked what was going on, you said it was nothing, but then you did it again."

y/n jumped out of bed, crossing her arms over her chest. she also began pacing in a characteristic way, as if in thought. her eyes roamed all the furniture she could find, but finally fixed her gaze on him.

"okay, am i exaggerating? i feel like i kind of did, and now i've said all those things and i feel really stupid…”

"no!" spencer raised his voice a little more than was necessary. he sprang up from the mattress, tired of the thought that the woman might think that the matter they were discussing was not important to him. "i…"

"stay still, the doctor said you might get dizzy," y/n interrupted him as she approached him.

"i'm not dizzy," he replied, but y/n had already reached out to him, as if to gently push him towards the bed.

"lie down," she insisted, but without much thought spencer grabbed her hands and lowered them to the level of their hips.

"no, listen to me. i'm sorry i've been acting this way lately," he said, and when he finally realized he was holding y/n's hands firmly, he let go a bit, but not too much; so that he can still touch her warm skin. “i… i was avoiding you a bit because the whole trip was so stressful and i started thinking too much and it influenced my behavior, but…

"stressful? why?"

"because... it's so stupid." he ran his hand through his hair, but his dark strands fell over his forehead anyway; it made him even angrier. “the thing is, i realized we'd start spending time together outside of work, and then you'd see i'm the same spencer from the office when i'm not at the office. and then you'll realize what a boring person i am and you won't want to hang out with me anymore. and i... i like you, y/n. i like you so much that i'm afraid of losing you because of me."

y/n frowned worriedly, tilting her head slightly. for a brief moment she stared at a point on his shoulder, as if searching for the right words. spencer, on the other hand, was feeling more and more nauseous as it dawned on him that perhaps the words he'd used shouldn't have been spoken to his friends, even though they sneakily sounded appropriate.

"well..." y/n sighed, leading him back to the mattress where they sat next to each other. spencer anticipated the worst and was slowly starting to feel like the biggest fool. he had a big mouth and always talked too much, everyone told him so. "i guess it's good that you're still spencer from the office when you're out of the office, right? because i wouldn't want you to be anyone else."

he looked at her and the woman smiled softly, still holding his hand.

"and you're not boring and i can't believe you think that of yourself! you're the most interesting person i know," she assured. “you are the only person in my circle of friends with whom i can watch all the movies in the world, because there is a 99% chance that you will be able to translate dialogues for me fluently! and the only one who can read and summarize the book i forgot to read for my book club, and i didn't have to be an ignorant who doesn't know anything about "pride and prejudice."

“you got all the threads with mr. darcy mixed up anyway,” he reminded her, smiling at the memory.

"i know and that's why i don't go there anymore!" y/n laughed as well, her shoulders trembling slightly.

even now he could picture in his mind the moment y/n walked into the office, heading without thinking to his desk with an expression of pure horror and embarrassment. half laughing, half almost crying, she related to him a meeting of her book club she had started attending. she told him how she got everything mixed up and made a fool of herself in front of the young women. she also didn't hesitate to mention how she drank wine in large gulps until the end of the meeting, and yet she was the first to run out of katy's apartment.

he felt y/n squeeze his hand a little tighter and looked at it again. the nausea he was feeling subsided a bit and he even started laughing at his panicked fantasies — it was y/n; the kind, always natural, and generous y/n who could never think of him that way.

“look, i know who you are may seem boring to you, but to me, you're the coolest person i've ever met in my life. and the nicest. i still remember how you remembered my birthday when others forgot. and when you brought me soup when i was sick. and i had two soups, because my mother had already brought one. you remember all the little things i tell you. that i prefer coffee with caramel syrup over maple syrup. that in 7th grade i fell out of a tree and have a scar on my knee which i'd rather you forget because derek still teases me." their soft laughs echoed through the room again. "you're the best spencer.

"thanks," he whispered.

so that's what it was supposed to be. misunderstandings and inaccuracies are resolved, y/n will finally choose one of the options that were displayed on the screen of a small TV and spend the next hour side by side eating chilled food from a chinese restaurant. it wasn't something spencer would have hoped for if his earlier speech had been worded better, but something he expected when he said what he had to say. but that was fine. he learned to enjoy the little things.

but suddenly he felt y/n fingers under his chin, directing his gaze back to her face. they were so close it hurt.

"and you'll never lose me, spencer. you can't get rid of me that easily," she said, also in a whisper. "i'm like a venereal disease."

spencer frowned.

"it was a disgusting comparison."

"i know, sorry."

"y/n," he whispered, never taking his eyes off the deep hue of her irises that scanned his face.

"yeah?"

he swallowed once more, hoping that the remnants of courage didn't run down his esophagus as well. he wasn't sure and couldn't be, but maybe this was the moment he should have heeded morgan and penelope and emily and jj and rossi and hotch...

"when i said i like you, i meant that..."

"i know, spencer." y/n smiled softly, and spencer had the impression that her face was a little closer than it had been two seconds before. "and guess what... i like you too."

spencer cursed mentally and, sliding his hand into y/n's hair, pulled her even closer to him.

the kiss was a bit tentative at first, and a terrifying thought crossed his mind that perhaps he had been in too much of a hurry and had misread some of the signals — he had done that all too often, after all, and the y/n words might have had nothing to do with what he was saying, with what spencer thought they had. y/n, however, returned the kiss, giving it a new pace for it, tangling her fingers in his hair. then reid realized he had stopped thinking about anything.

all that mattered at that moment was the taste of y/n cherry lip gloss, her hands on his neck, and soon his arms and chest as she climbed onto his lap. spencer thought it was too much — her scent filled his nostrils, completely befuddled him, her hands craving for closeness tracing every curve of his body, making him dizzy — and at the same time he felt that he needed more.

he lifted the hand he'd been resting on the mattress and ran it over y/n's bare thigh, not sure if he was allowed to do it. her skin was smooth, warm and cool at the same time, and spencer wanted to know how other parts of her body felt. y/n smiled through the kiss, reaching for his wandering hand, which she then placed on her hip.

spencer took it a step further and moved her down her back to pull her closer to him. he wanted to be as close to her as possible, possibly even absorb himself into her, if that meant he would always feel the way he did now.

y/n moved her kisses to his cheek, jaw, and behind his ear, where she sucked his skin. spencer moaned softly, surprised, and the girl with a smile headed towards his neck, biting it with kisses.

"thank god penelope left the house," y/n mumbled into his skin, saying the words in between caresses. “she probably would have said her i knew it! or didn't i tell you?!"

spencer pulled back slightly, mouth parting speechless. he remembered perfectly well what penelope had said when he heard that they were going to watch a nature documentary, and now his mind, despite being completely distracted by this unexpected situation, connected the dots — the movie was on but still not quite and the y/n slowly starting to rubbing his hips — coming to an unequivocal conclusion.

"are we going to…?" the unfinished question hung in the air, making y/n's eyes widen.

"what? no! not if you don't want to!” she assured quickly, blushing furiously. “but we can if you want… but we don't have to do anything! kissing is cool too. we don't even have to kiss…"

"no!" he protested, straightening up a bit, for he had been leaning more on the mattress on his elbows than actually sitting on it. "no, i want to. i want… everything,” he whispered, much quieter now, slightly ashamed of his apparent need. after thinking about it, he added, "please?"

y/n's face stretched into his favorite kind of smile, and the woman leaned toward him once more, causing spencer to return to his previous position. out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hand reach for the TV remote. without breaking eye contact with him, she hit the play button and pulled him into a kiss as the documentary began.

spencer felt like he was about to pass out.

"jesus, you're so cute i could bite your nose if it didn't end well," she said, making him snort in amusement.

"what?" he asked, but y/n just laughed along with him and reached for the buttons on her shirt, slowly unbuttoning it, while kissing him.

spencer never in his wildest dreams would have thought that he could be right here — under the thighs of the most beautiful girl who, he was sure, would never look at him the way y/n was now sizing him up, exposing more and more naked patches of her skin. he breathed heavily, stroking the skin of her thighs as she slid off the black fabric. he didn't know exactly where he had landed, actually, he didn't know much at the moment. his iq didn't matter anymore, he was just a jerk who stared captivated at y/n's swimsuit-covered breasts, his mouth slightly parted and his gaze absent.

"something's wrong?" a soft y/n voice cut through his not very coherent thoughts and distracted him from the dark green fabric where the nipples poked through.

"no," he replied firmly, propping himself up on his elbows a bit to bring his lips closer to hers. "you're just beautiful."

he kissed her hard, feeling y/n lift the corners of his mouth, and his hand, previously resting on her leg, moved up to the woman's back, where the strings of her swimsuit brushed the nape of her neck.

904 notes · View notes

odxrilove · 5 months

Text

☆ SEVENTEEN AS PEOPLE AT SCHOOL

genre: highschool!au/uni!au

warnings: none

a/n: is this my official tumblr comeback ?? 😮

back to masterlist!

☆ SEUNGCHEOL

the leader of the “jocks”. he's the guy you see walking around school with his varsity jacket on– even if it’s in the middle of the summer. he’s the literal definition of the hallway crush, whispers and giggles being a regular thing he hears when he walks through the school hallways, hand swiping through his pretty hair. he often sits on the wooden tables outside instead of the benches whenever he and his friends have their little weekly hangout-meeting. always has a lollipop in his mouth and says it’s for the girls but really, he just likes sweets.

☆ JEONGHAN

the king of debates. if you sign up for debate class, don’t think you’re ever going to win if you’re up against jeonghan. he’s the reason why so many people left debate class mid year but the teacher is so impressed by him that she can’t force herself to kick him out. he’s also widely known for being the mastermind behind his high school’s senior prank. besides his maniac pranks and his broad knowledge of law, he’s actually pretty fun to be around and some girls who have had the pleasure to go on dates with him describe him as an angel– even after getting ghosted.

☆ JOSHUA

the class president. he’s a close friend of jeonghan and thus, winning the class pres’ election was easy peasy. he only presented himself as a joke but started taking it seriously 7 months in when the school planned to cancel the annual pajama day. he acts normal but he’s truly just as insane as his large group of friends. the grumpy math teacher is his next door neighbor and he once gave her leftover cookies and since then, he’s been her favorite student– and the only student she smiles at.

☆ JUN

the cat defender. falls easily asleep in class and is often woken up by his classmates after the bell rang. someone once drew a cat on a wall in the gym hall with a marker a few years back and when jun transferred to the school, his name mysteriously appeared under the cat drawing. in his second year, he got detention for a whole month after bringing a kitten to school and hiding it in his bag every day for two weeks straight– he was only caught because the cat meowed during a test and none of his classmates wanted to fake meow to help the poor guy out.

☆ HOSHI

the school’s dance machine. when the school speakers play music, you’ll always find him bobbing his head to the beat. he gets his notebook confiscated weekly because he prefers to write down possible dance movements and new choreography ideas than math equations and english vocabulary. he has a pretty big following on social media after a video of him freestyling at the school’s talent show blew up. he now uses his popularity to freely make dance covers at school, students avoiding him in the hallways when he’s swinging his legs and arms around.

☆ WONWOO

the school library’s only visitor. ok, maybe that’s a bit exaggerated but he’s definitely the only one going there willingly! the library stinks and there’s no wifi, plus some rumors are going around saying that the room at the back the of the library is the go-to place to fuck, and lastly, the librarian is a bitch– except towards wonwoo, of course. besides him being the librarian’s favorite, he once got asked to prom by a senior when he was a junior and every two months or so, someone brings it up and everyone goes crazy over it again. to be honest, if he wasn't so focused on his video games and books he would see how many people stare at him with heart eyes.

☆ WOOZI

the normal kid. what else can i say, he's just a regular guy. he goes to school wearing his silly baggy outfits and doesn't leave the house without his headphones on. he meets up with his friends and has lunch with them. he isn’t quiet but he isn’t talkative either, only partaking in his friends’ silly little conversations when he deems necessary. he gets normal grades and enjoys his silly music class the most. he’s on the school’s swimming team and won a few silly prizes during competitions. he’s been the subject of affection from a few girls since the start of school and he’s been on a date once. really, he’s just a silly little guy living his silly little life– what’s there to hate?

☆ SEOKMIN

the theatre kid. you either hate him or love him, there’s no in between– fortunately, no one really hates seokmin. he’s a loud student, his laugh often resonating through the entire cafeteria. he’s always been part of the cast for the school musicals, landing the lead role in his first year, something that had never ever happened before. the only kisses he’s had were during rehearsals or actual performances but he knows he has a large group of fans so nobody can really tease him for it. one of the school’s old students still has one-sided beef with him because seokmin ‘stole’ his role.

☆ MINGYU

the popular kid. he’s part of every club on campus, and has a hard time juggling football practice with the weekly sessions of the photography club. in his second year he decided he wanted to be an architect and since then he always complains about the school’s awful floor plan. people in the art club always go to him when they need a model because he has the Looks and actually knows how to pose. he’s actually very fun and the epitome of your rich friendly student who deserves to be crowned prom king. he’s known around school for mowing the lawns of his neighbors for free, shirtless.

☆ MINGHAO

the fashion police. there’s no better way to define minghao, as his judgmental faces have become an obsession for people on campus. he loves clothes and the fact he’s hoarding a drawer in his roommate’s closet further proves it. there's’ not one day that goes by where minghao doesn’t eat with his outfit, nails painted and sunglasses on his head– even in the winter. if you have to dress up for something, going to minghao’s dorm for help is the best solution. he’s rather honest, not hiding his disgust or love for people’s outfits. he was actually voted prom king (mingyu ending second) and was happy the crown fit the aesthetic of his suit. besides being an absolute bitch when it comes to clothing, his soft laugh does ease people’s nerves more often than not.

☆ SEUNGKWAN

the gossiper. or in better words, the head of the journalism club who’s in charge of the weekly school newspaper and news forum on the school’s official website. seungkwan is, with no doubt, respected by all. truthfully, he’s a good student, so teachers often let him write in his journal for new articles during class. there’s one unofficial rule though– you have secrets? do not share them with him. you can, however, ask him about other people’s business, and as long as you give him something in return, he’s glad to talk your ears off. you’re safe if you’re his friend though, because there isn’t someone as loyal as seungkwan walking down the school hallways.

☆ VERNON

the skater enthusiast. he always walks around wearing big weird hoodies, holding onto his skate and if it's one of those days, a beanie and some funky shoes complete the outfit. his skate is like an extension of his hand but does he know how to skate though? absolutely not. his friends now have multiple bandaid and first aid kits in their lockers because vernon never bothers to buy any but spends most of his lunch breaks trying to learn new tricks– and subsequently failing. he’s a sweet kid but a bit of an airhead, often bumping into people and staring at the people talking at him until he realizes the reason he couldn’t hear them was because he still had his headphones on.

☆ DINO

the school’s unofficial cheerleader’s cheerleader. it was truly a tragic day when the cheerleading squad’s manager got fired for fraud– not because of the money (duh) but because of the now lost cheerleaders. dino used to do gymnastics when he was young so in his eyes, he was their last hope. he was a god at planning cheerleading practices and events and in less than a year, the squad managed to win back their spot as number one during the cheerleading season. the school’s reputation was restored and suddenly all the teachers loved him. dying his hair blonde during a celebration party was the last straw for many– his locker would be full of confession letters the weeks following.

taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @raevyng @hoeforcheol @pearlygraysky @4xiaojun @viscade @amxlia-stars

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

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kagakuoniryu · 2 months

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Part 2 of the alastor x reader I written when I wasn't feeling well at all

Summary : a new guest you knew from your past life arrive at the hotel, she was that one person who bullied you throigh high school, but she mooks too angelic to be guilty

Code : E/n (ennemy/name)

Tags : fem reader, etablished relationship, angst for the most part, there will maybe be a part 2, mentions of bullying, reader is TRAUMATIZED, english is not my first language, may have some inaccuracy about the show since I'm just projecting, and of course probably ooc characters

After that talk in alastor's room, you hardly left yours limiting contact with everyone...

Well, mostly everyone, nifty still passed by everyday to clean up a bit and chase the boug, you were thankful for it, she didn't treated you differently, she was the same sadistic, boys driven, bug hater lady you met, and you could talk her ears off

"Niff ? What do you think about E/n ?" You started warily, you never openly talked to her about it surprisinly until now

"Oh I hate her !"

Shocked you asked her to go on ; E/n, hated ? The E/n you knew...Well...she presented to others ?!

"Why is that ? Did something went wrong ? Did she hurt you ?!"

"She always interrupt my dead roack show ! She says it's weird and disgusting ! She even killed a roach before I could and that is an heinous crime"

You gulped, noting mentally that to stay in nifty's good side, you better let her kill the roaches herself

"But...isn't it weird how everyone like her ? And how they think she's genuinely nice ? Even alastor likes her !"

"And everyone likes alastor until they he shows his nature !" With that nifty finally stabbed that roach she was after

"You...have a good point...she's showing them what they want to gain what she wants...but...what does she wants...?"

"I don't know ! I have a lot of cleaning to do ! Goodbye !"

"Wait nifty !"

And the door was closed, you sighed, well...it was good for as long as it lasted you guessed...you needed a plan, but you couldn't think clearly in this hotel...you couldn't go to Rosie too...she ADORED E/n and they had their regular tea party...crashing to your friends place weren't use at all, one they adored her, two, it was still the hotel and three, since your words with angel you kinda ghosted them all, thinking they couldn't hurt yiu if you ghosted them before that ; your fiancee radio station maybe ? No, too obvious, and he spend all his goddamn time up there...and he isn't the exact definition of "privacy"...you thought for a second about mimzy, but that girl hated your guts for no reason...or well...maybe because alastor humiliated her last time...

Finally, a bell rang in your head ; alastor ! That's your solution ! He gave you a spare key of his actual house outside of the hotel, and he barely goes there since he is in his tower during the day and at the hotel at night !

Picking minimal stuff, just a few clothes, a notepad and a pencil, even leaving your proposal ring behind, not wznting to be distracted by alastor himself you rushed outside, surprising everyone in the lobby until you came crashing down into alastor

"My, my, my dear, someone here is in a rush"

"Uh yeah...I needed fresh air, you know, the old stuff, figured I could go camping ?"

Alastor's gaze darkened as he looked at your ring finger, well, lack of ring on your ring finger

"And does camping prevent you from wearing you ring ? Or perhaps you youngster has a different definitiln of camping that back in my day, because decades ago, men could hunt even with they wedding ring, and yet you can't sleep with it on ?"

"I just wanted some alone time, calm down al' if anything, send a shadow my way kf you don't trust me, I know you don't anyway for a few weeks now"

Without letting him finish you left the hotel, you almost feel pity to charlie, she'll have a very pissy alastor in her hands until you come back

Arriving at alastor's home you let yourself in, now you needed to brainstorm !

One hour...

Two hours...

Three hours...

Three hours and about 3 cups of tea in...you have little next to nothing for an idea...how the hell are you gonna show this pest real face ?! You needed a real confrontation with her, but she'll never gave it to you, and if she did, she would have a backup plan, just like when you were alive...alive...

That's it !

One of your imps friend that owe you one could go to the living world ! He could retrieve your phone and you could prove your point !

Getting everything ready, and after many days, the phone in your hands, you plugged it in for it to charge and once at 100 % your rushed to the hotel

"Guys ! I got my phone back I-"

Entering the hotel, they were all playing a board game together, not caring about where you went...but you've been gone for at least a good week or two now...did you mattered so little ?

"O-oh...Y/n...you're here ! We...uh...were playing monopoly ! You...wanna join us ?"

Charlie tried akwardly, chukling nervously at your empty expression

"No, I was happy to prove my point, but I guess it's no use, she is better than me anyway, charlie, I guess you can take an other sinner in...I quit the hotel..."

You missed the way her eyes showed her heartbreak at this sight of you, giving up, she really failed you this time ; as you went upstair to make your bags, the boarding game night was ruined, and alastor teleported right into your room

"Hello ma chère (my dear), may I know where you're planning on going ?"

"I don't know al, far ? You all won it, always pushing me to the side, y'all fucking won it"

"I believe such swearing isn't proper in a ladie's mout-"

"Well for once I'll fucking swear if I'll fucking please al ! Because none of you wwants to believes in me ! You knew me long her and you choose her ! Just...go and date her ! It's her speciality to just date whoever has been with me before anyway..."

"What do you mean...? Y/n...?"

No terms of endearment there, that was rare for alastor, even before you both started dating he was affectionnate and using pet names, he always does with women, just a way to make them feel appreciated

"What do you mean 'what do I mean' you didn't knew how my ex boyfriend cheated on me with her and that's why we stopped being friends ?!"

"No, actually...she told us the other way around, that she found her perfect someone...and that you tried to seduce him and flirt with him and when he exposed you you bullied her"

"Bullied her ?! She made my life hell before getting down here ! After I blocked her everywhere she used our common friend she turned against me or even her sister's social media to stalk me down !"

"Well, my dear, I do want to believes you, you know I love you, but I can't without proper proof"

Taking your phone's out of your pocket, and guiding alastor because of his obvious lack of modern technology skills, you showed him your call journal from that time, the recording, the screenshots, everything that proved you were in your right mind

"Well...my beloved, it seems I owe you an apology, with her honey words it seems I lowered my guard and lacked dicernment, could you forgive me ?"

Alastor put in hand gently on your cheek, lifting your face, you nuzzled against his hand before hugging him tight

"Apology accepted...and thank you...thank you so much for listening, even if it costed you to use modern technology"

"As long as you delete that picture I took by accident"

"I'll make it my wallpaper~"

"I'll rip this thing piece by piece"

Going downstairs with alastor was a relief, like a gentleman he offered his arms for you to hold onto as charlie jumped on you

"I'm SOOOO sorry to have neglected your feeling Y/n please !! I didn't mean to ! You were a good friend of all of us and would all feel awful if you were to really leave !!" She started, before being interrupted by alastor

"Well, my dear charlie, it seems someone is still leaving, but not our dear Y/n, someone who's suprisingly not that keen on getting redeemed it seems"

You saw E/n visibly tense as alastor grabs her rather forcefully

"Could you PLEASE tell all the others persons present here what happened between you and my lovely Y/n over here back when you were alive"

"I...I already told you didn't I...? She bullied me ! Y/n is just a mean bully and I always felt uneasy around her" E/n tried to defend herself, nervously sweating

"Really, care to explain this ? My dear best friend" you showed one of the most incriminating piece you had on your phone to the others, making their eyes go wide, and all fell into pieces, E/n wasn't trying to redeem, she was trying to ruin your life, all over again

She felt that for some reasons, many years ago, you were better than her, and that she needed what you had, by any mean and any ways, instead of finding her own hapiness she wanted to steal yours

Vaggie and alastor both kicked her out, charlie tried to say maybe she could be redeemed, but when alastor said that if he saw that girl put a foot near the hotel again he would turn her into jambalaya for everyone to eat...she was feeling rather discouraged

But that was okay, one bad sinners couldn't stray her from her dream ! Everyone in the hotel also apologized in their own way for not believing you and putting back through all your traumas all over again, and of course you forgave them

Alastor also made you a special contract this night, you could pet his ears, all night long, if the next day you didn't told the others about it

And of course you took the deal

~THE END~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, I don't know if this one was longer or shorter than the previous part, I went along with the random imp going back on earth as an easter egg of helluva boss and also because I was stuck in my story !

It's nice to have a catharsis like this to be honest, I don't know if I'll write request or just silly story in one or multiple parts for hazbin hotel you can still send some in if yoj feel like it, just know that I'd be delighted to write for alastor again, he's my all time fav of the show

I hope you enjoyed it !!!

#writing #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor angst #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #angst #x reader

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i-like-writing-stuff · 2 years

Text

retirement [five hargreeves x reader]

a/n: hi guys! it’s been a while hehe, so i hope ull enjoy this short x reader with the one and only five yall know i love sm, homeboy did not disappoint this season neither lmao. season 3 just premiered and i already have finished it:(

can i just say

WHAT THE ACTUAL FVUCK

either way, id b happy to discuss with yall opinions and such and also feel free to leave requests!

ill leave warnings at the beginning of each imagine if it shall be the case

i.e. this imagine takes place right in the first episode!!

also, forgive my english, havent really spoken in a while and dont even get me started on the writing

enjoy besties!

summary: now that the second apocalypse is over, five and y/n can finally retire and maybe finally make their moves?

“You know, Five... Sometimes I do wish I’d never met you,” You took a sip from your wine, watching as the preteen in question rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a delight as well, Y/N,” He nonchalantly dismissed you, continuing to eat his Chinese takeout.

After surviving not one, but two apocalypses alongside Five Hargreeves and his siblings, you guys wound up back in your timeline, only to find out your trip to the 60s caused some changes in the present, such as Sir Reginald Hargreeves deciding against adopting Luther, Diego, Klaus, Ben, Allison, Viktor and Five, and instead some seven other dickheads with superpowers.

Your encounter was far from pleasant.

Six months ago you were planning to retire from the Commission, since you were almost sixty and had had your fair share of missions, so you figured one last task with your partner, Five, would be the good way to end things. Well, one thing led to another and instead of taking out JFK, you woke up in 2019, in your preteen body, in an unknown backyard with unknown people, who turned out to be your partner’s siblings.

One thing led to another and you guys bonded over the span of 10 days in an attempt to save the world, but that is a story for another time.

After those 10 days, you time traveled once again and woke up in 1963, alone, in a school. Some teacher found you and took you in, thinking you were a lost 13 year old girl, but then again, that is a story for another time.

Six months passed until you reunited with the Hargreeves siblings in yet another attempt to save the world.

Two more weeks and you were back in 2019, but things did not go according to plan.

“Still don’t understand how you two have not banged yet,” Klaus shook his head disappointed, as Diego and Luther couldn’t help but not in agreement.

You tried not to blush, but Klaus’ bluntness always got the best of you. Spending this time with Five on top of being a teen again took a toll on you. You’ve known Five for long before the apocalypse. When the Handler recruited him, she trusted you to be his partner, since you were basically her right hand. The bickering was there even back then, but these past six months you started seeing him with different eyes, in a different light.

“I’d rather choke on chopsticks,” You were quick to deny any indecent thought, “You’re sick, by the way.”

“And you’re sixty, so bye,” Klaus smirked, hopping from his stool.

“Too retired to even bother,” Five shrugged his shoulders, watching as his two other brothers followed Klaus.

“I’m gonna get more food,” Luther lightly shrugged his shoulders, making his way to the buffet.

“I refuse to third wheel 13 year olds,” Diego stated, scratching the back of his neck.

You watched confused as the three men all left the table, leaving you alone with Five, who did not seem bothered at all.

“I’ll never get used to your brothers,” You shook your head, taking another sip from your wine, “You people are too much.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Five scoffed, watching as you were playing with your glass.

“So, retirement, huh?” You changed the subject, “What are your plans now that the world is safe?”

“I didn’t think much of it, to be honest,” Five shrugged, “Weren’t you supposed to retire after the JFK mission? What did you have in mind?”

You smiled softly, looking at your wine, “I was gonna buy a mansion in Italy, 1970s or so... maybe get a dog and cat, start producing my own wine... I don’t know, I didn’t plan much.”

“Of course there’s a lot of wine in your retirement plans,” Five smirked, as you playfully smacked his arm, “Ow!”

“You’re officially banned from visiting me in Italy,” You stated, biting back a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to anyway,” Five lightly shrugged his shoulders, not once dropping his smirk, “Besides- you wouldn’t last a day without me.”

“Excuse you?” You scoffed, placing your hand on top of your chest for a more dramatic effect, “Last I checked, you were the one who dragged me along this whacky adventure.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I knew you’d be devastated at the Commission without me,” He replied with the same cocky air as usual, which made you ponder on the situation.

Is this Five’s way of flirting with you? During the time you spent together ever since operation Doomsday started back in the original timeline of 2019, there may have been a few... interesting moments to say the least. Like when he first opened up to you about being worried sick for his siblings, or when he gave you the tightest embrace after reuniting with you in 1963. There was also that time when you two held hands on your way to meet his father.

Moments like these that you couldn’t help but cherish with utmost happiness, but not once letting yourself get sidetracked. There was an apocalypse going on, neither of you had time for this.

But now?

Now there’s no apocalypse anymore. Granted, there still are some issues that would be best to fix, but it’s not like they’d bring the end of the world if not.

So, why not?

“If I didn’t know you any better, Five Hargreeves,” You smirked, leaning in closer to the boy, with your glass of wine in one hand, “I’d say you are flirting with me.”

Five shook his head amused, watching you sip your precious wine so close to him. If the wine was intoxicating you, you definitely were the one intoxicating him. It took him some while before he could accept that he had feelings for you, but he couldn’t say either that he was surprised when he realized.

He really felt like you were absolutely perfect, no doubt in his mind.

“And would that bother you?” Five raised a brow, resting his arm on the back of your chair, leaning in even closer.

“I can’t say it would be unpleasant,” You set down your wine, curious to see where this would go.

“You’re such a tease, Y/N,” Five rolled his eyes, “But... I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Will you just kiss me already?” You sighed, watching a genuine smile appear on his lips, as he leaned in, connecting your lips at last.

You cupped his face, melting into the long-awaited kiss. On one hand, you couldn’t believe this was finally happening, and on the other hand, you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You and Five were finally done with apocalypses, trying to save the world and the Commission.

You could officially both retire.

“Does this mean I can visit you in Italy?” He whispered, as you two pulled away from the kiss, but still painfully close to one another.

“Ah, who can’t last a day without the other now?” You smirked, pulling him into another kiss.

#five x reader #five hargreeves #number five x reader #number five imagines #five hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #tua season 3 #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy x reader

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electrosair · 9 months

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Husband & dad headcanons hydro + geo + electro ver.

english isn’t my first language, sorry for mistakes

characters: ayato + childe + albedo + gorou + itto + zhongli + cyno

word count: 2k

Ayato

how does he propose to you?

Cherry blossoms decorating a small path when you arrive at Kamisato Estate after a long day. A relaxing dinner outside under the stars of Inazuma and several candles illuminating the table. All very romantic in short.

where is the wedding taking place?

In Inazuma obviously, and as much as Ayato wants to keep the wedding among family and friends, it is impossible for people not to find out about it and various curious ones to talk about the wedding.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

Honestly, you mention a site and he is already making reservations and making sure that everything is ready for your love trip. If I have to say one, I would bet either Mondstadt or Snezhnaya.

children before or after marriage?

I guess afterwards, I feel Ayato as a person who would prefer to have your relationship completely stable before having children.

how many children does he want?

Maybe 3, but I think he would prefer only 2. Being as busy as he usually always is I feel that at a minimum the kids would take a total of 3 years minimum.

how is he during your pregnancy?

He would postpone all his duties if he sees that you are feeling unwell or your mood is not the best in the world. He would try to take you out for a walk because he read that it was good for childbirth and stuff like that, definitely the kind of guy who reads a lot to figure it all out. "Darling, you don't want to drink the tea? It's good for… No? Okay, let's go to the garden then."

any memorable moment with his child?

You remember when you and Ayato ran to the inner garden because you heard your children fighting and in reality they were just practicing like he and Ayaka did when they were little. His face immediately changed to one of tenderness.

Childe

how does he propose to you?

At first he would try to keep it between you, but some way or another, Teucer ends up finding out and Childe tells him that it's a super important mission and he can't tell you anything. I can see his brother reading you a little piece of paper for you to guess the place where your boyfriend is waiting for you.

where is the wedding taking place?

Definitely in Snezhnaya, I do not accept any other place. Childe is the most familiar person in all of Teyvat and I don't see him celebrating your wedding without his family present, he will pay for travel for all of yours to attend.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

He probably would like to go back to Liyue for a visit, to see the panorama and take the opportunity to do some Fatuis business, although behind your back as he wouldn't want you to see him working on your honeymoon.

children before or after marriage?

Before, period. My thoughts do not allow me to imagine your wedding without the children throwing petals as you approach the altar.

how many children does he want?

This shouldn't even be a question for Tartaglia. But if I have to say a number I assure you more than 5, I'm not going to put limits on this man.

how is he during your pregnancy?

He treats you as if you were made of glass, the slightest thing is a reason for him to be behind you, placing one hand on your head and one on your belly to keep you away from whatever 'dangerous' thing you might be doing. "Be careful, listen to me and stay resting away from this."

any memorable moment with his child?

You were already planning to go for the second child during the first winter as a family. Your little one covered up to his neck in layers of warm clothes, Ajax playing with the baby in the snow when you discovered a new alliance and a storm of snowballs coming towards you.

Albedo

how does he propose to you?

One of the times you go worried to him, thinking he's been engaged in a new experiment all week only to find that 1. he's not there and 2. he was gone because he was preparing his mind to ask you to marry him after wanting to for so long.

where is the wedding taking place?

Small wedding, you know, few guests, at least on his part. As for the location I would say in one of the meadows of Mondstadt, I like to imagine it at night with the fireflies and lanterns illuminating the area.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

I see him taking you to Fontaine. I can't say much but from its fame I'm sure you'd spend hours looking at the inventions and strolling the streets enjoying the new sights. "Oh, look at that coffee shop. It seems to have some kind of mechanism, let's go look."

children before or after marriage?

It's not really the 'before' or 'after' of the wedding that is important to him, but the fact that you both have time to dedicate to the baby and are mentally prepared to have it.

how many children does he want?

I would say 1, although maybe it could be 2, I doubt many more besides those. He spends a lot of his time with his work so he prefers to still have time for that.

how is he during your pregnancy?

He wouldn't be too concerned for the first few months unless you are having trouble. But from the sixth onwards he would make sure he has at least a few hours for you, in case he can't he will ask Sucrose to check on you and tell him how you are doing.

any memorable moment with his child?

Albedo would take your first child to visit Klee, their excited faces as she put everything potentially explosive away and Albedo helped her hold the baby. I simply can't.

Gorou

how does he propose to you?

After a walk in the nature of Inazuma what you least expected was that Gorou would start dropping little hints about you and your relationship, giving slight allusions to being even closer as people and proposing to wear something matching. His face lit up when you asked him if he meant getting married.

where is the wedding taking place?

Watatsumi Island. It is beautiful and no one will deny that Gorou likes the pearls that are all over the island. Now you just have to decide between the Shrine or in front of one of the waterfalls.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

Liyue, he already knows Beidou and Kazuha, so I'm sure they would even take you two to the harbor. Be assured that Gorou will want to try all the desserts and sweets he can find at the food stalls.

children before or after marriage?

I would say that after the wedding it would be better for him. He wants to try to give you and your future children as much attention as possible.

how many children does he want?

Between 1 and 2, he would like to continue to have time to remain a general in the army. But that doesn't mean he will always be busy; whenever he has free time, he wants to spend it with his family.

how is he during your pregnancy?

Not good for advice, but he'd try to always put on his best face when you complain about something about pregnancy. Of course every craving you have is going to give it to you, and he'll want to try it too. "Dangos with strawberry milk and chocolate on top? With whipped cream too? And you don't want pancakes? Oh no, it's fine. Dangos then."

any memorable moment with his child?

Now that there is not so much trouble in Inazuma he'd feel more relaxed, but he would definitely not let his children near the military camp, and if he sees them around he would send them home before they could do anything. Maybe when they're older he'll train them.

Itto

how does he propose to you?

He could simply stand in front of you with the ring in his hand and not say anything else, but he's not going to. I want to imagine him taking you maybe to his childhood house and excitedly telling you stories. And when you least expect it, bam! wedding on the way.

where is the wedding taking place?

Inazuma obviously, I guess on the main island and if I tell the truth I feel kind of bad for Kuki, I feel like she's going to have to help with everything she can to get the wedding off the ground.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

You never know with this man, so I have a lot of doubts about where you would end up going on your honeymoon. In the end you will probably be the one to organize it all.

children before or after marriage?

Maybe you would try to plan them afterwards the wedding, but knowing Itto something would happen and all your plans would go down the drain.

how many children does he want?

He is fine having 1, 2, 3 or however many as long as you keep in mind that he will still want your attention even if he spends all day playing with the kids.

how is he during your pregnancy?

Itto would try to guess if you are going to have horns or not just because he thinks it's funny, although I honestly think they would come out after the birth. He would be glued to you like a limpet, giving you pampers and cuddles like he normally does.

any memorable moment with his child?

Onikabutos fights. I would make a league in which the participants are him and your children and of course, you are the judge. Keep in mind that he will not miss the opportunity to cheat. "Hey, hey, your onikabuto wasn't at the right distance. Judge, penalize him!"

Zhongli

how does he propose to you?

Do you remember his mission? The rock zone he created himself? You would be surprised to hear the whole story the first time he tells it to you, but you are even more surprised when he kneels down in front of you. "I may have done some things wrong in the past, but from now on I want to do everything right, with you."

where is the wedding taking place?

Two weddings, no one can deny me that. One in the city of Liyue with your friends and family, and those he invites, and one in the mountains of Liyue, a small celebration just for the two of you.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

Visit to the Nations where they let you go to meet again with the other archons because I do not understand what happens that they have almost no interactions? Yes, sorry.

children before or after marriage?

It makes me a little tender to think that afterwards, because honestly he's the best husband in the world when it crosses his mind that he's finally married to someone he loves so much. He wants to take that time to spend with you now as a married couple.

how many children does he want?

Zhongli himself gives me vibes of wanting to have about 1 or 2 children, but as an archon I feel like he is capable of having 50. So I leave it up to you.

how is he during your pregnancy?

He would pull out the typical grandma's home remedies, which magically work and you don't even know how, every time you tell him you are nauseous or in any pain. He would read you his favorite books even if you had read them before because 'the baby needs to hear them too'.

any memorable moment with his child?

He is so proud to have a child with you that he would take you to all the adeptus and old friends to make the necessary introductions and give them the surprise that the geo archon was now a father.

Cyno

how does he propose to you?

He would ask you to accompany him on a mission in the desert for some kind of illegal trafficking, but all you are able to see is a natural oasis and Cyno smiling at you as he removes his hood.

where is the wedding taking place?

As much as it seemed like a good option to have the wedding in the desert as well, it ended up being held in the city of Sumeru, where it was easier for people to arrive and at least the heat would not be a big issue.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

I like to imagine Cyno again in Mondstadt, but this time you would use the trip to go to Spinedragon as well, he must be so cute in all the snow. It's not usual for him.

children before or after marriage?

After I guess, but mostly due to lack of time. You're both waiting for Cyno to stop doing such dangerous things and be able to spend more time with you before you try anything.

how many children does he want?

1 is fine for him, but if you want more he's not going to make any complaints about it.

how is he during your pregnancy?

If he normally reminds you to drink water every five minutes, now he will remind you every five seconds. Forget about going alone to areas like the desert or rainforests at least during the last months, and when you are close to delivery he won't leave your side.

any memorable moment with his child?

He would definitely spend his nights playing cards with the child, hiding from you because what he was supposed to do was to be a good father and put the child to bed. "Sorry, he was so excited I couldn't say no to another round." We all know the one who was really excited was Cyno, but okay.

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word-wytch · 11 months

Text

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 13

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 13/? 8.4k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Catalyst — an agent that provokes or speeds significant change or action.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: angst, drama, implied partner abuse, harm to fantasy creature

Monday, December 9th 1985

Eddie propped his cheek against his knuckles as he watched you from the back of the classroom, just like he did every day. You were radiant on this one, brimming with excitement as you lectured on your favorite subject.

“We’re still in the planning phase for our short stories, but now that you all have a general idea of what you want to write about, I want you to start putting together an outline,” you prompted.

His eyes traced down the back of your blouse to where it met the waistline of your trousers. His hands still itched to hold you there. Burned was a better word now. He watched your hand scratch words onto the board with a nub of chalk, following the bend and curve of your fingers as they formed letters.

The past three weeks had been much of the same. You and him, behind the big desk every Monday and Wednesday after school. You; trying to focus on his schoolwork. Him; trying to focus on you. You; letting him get away with it.

There was plenty of studying happening too. In between studying the curve of your lips, the hue of your laugh, and the bones of your knuckles under his thumb, there were shining moments were something would click and he would solve an equation. Perhaps it was something to do with memory association or whatever textbook word you used to describe the psychology of learning, but something about the way you presented things made it easier for him to absorb. Perhaps it was your gentle patience, or your intuition. Knowing when to press forward and when to back off. Knowing how to show something differently than he’d been taught. Maybe it was just sweeter coming from your lips instead of Ms. O’Donnell’s.

Eddie shifted in his desk as you clicked the end of your sentence against the board with a flourish. Stretching against the confines of the tiny chair, he hunched over the slab wood barely big enough to fit his notebook, and picked up his own chewed utensil to copy what you’d written. Maybe it was the bulk of his jacket, thicker and warmer with padding for winter, but suddenly he felt claustrophobic.

You whipped around brightly to face the class. “Alright, who remembers what three things inform character action?”

The question was met with restless silence. A cough. A sniffle.

With a defeated sigh, you turned back around to scratch desires, fears, and misbeliefs onto the board.

Glancing out the window at the pale grey sky and naked trees, Eddie counted on his fingers the number of months until there would be leaves on them again.

Five.

He just knew it would be an agonizing winter. One that dragged on and on, long after the groundhog saw its shadow. Huffing, he stared down at his beat up spiral notebook, blue lines blurring in his tired vision. The pen went slack in his hand. He closed his eyes and listened to your voice.

“I know these are short stories, but in the end something should have changed internally or interpersonally for your characters as a result of the plot. Remember, the plot is what happens, the story is how it affects the characters,” you said, jotting down the last bit.

It took on a different tone in front of the class. More rigid and professional, louder so it carried to the back of the room. It lacked the warmth and softness that it held when he was next to you. He imagined, for a sweet moment, how it would sound even closer; against the shell of his ear as you breathed a sigh beneath him. The gentle feather of your lips as they traveled south, just below his ear, where his jaw met his neck. In the playground of his mind, he could show you what a man he really was. Here, his hands were free to wander wherever they wanted; dip into the valleys of your clavicles, over the hills of your breasts, around the bend of your waist, the peaks of your hips, the mound of your—

A snicker broke his reverie. When he opened his eyes, Jason’s were already on him.

“Taking a nap, Munson?” he mouthed mockingly.

Eddie rolled his eyes and seethed as he glared down at his notebook again. He shifted against the back of the hard plastic chair, against the tight cage of the desk. Finding no relief, he huffed and stared blankly ahead at the chalkboard, at the beige concrete wall, at the big desk, and then—at you. The gap had never been more enormous. An ocean of desks, a gaping chasm between where he was and where he wanted to be.

He must have looked downright pitiful, because the look you returned brimmed with a soft concern. In the two seconds he held you, Eddie released a deep sigh. Then you were back to the board.

“L-let’s start by highlighting the main point of each scene,” you said quickly, turning as you cleared your throat. Eddie caught your hand dart behind your neck before it fell promptly to your side. “Basically, why a scene exists and what it needs to accomplish. Does it provide information about the characters or move the story forward? Remember, these are short stories, so we want to make each scene really count.”

Eddie gripped the chewed pen and dutifully copied what you wrote. He knew he could have asked you later, had you explain it all again, given him tips, and pointers, and strategies, even helped him with his outline. But he wanted you to see that he was trying. He wanted you to see that he cared. He was always bad at school. Bad at paying attention. Bad at turning in assignments. Bad at following rules and keeping his mouth shut.

He wanted to be good for you.

When the bell rang, chair legs screeched against tile, notebooks crinkled, zippers ripped open and shut in a frenzied cacophony. Eddie hung back until the room filtered out. Until the only person left was you. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he padded up the long isle of desks until he reached yours. A standard routine.

“Hey,” he said, just like every other day. Just to savor another couple seconds in your presence, alone.

You looked up at him from the mess on your desk as you did countless times before, same tired smile, same soft eyes, same response. “Hey.”

Eddie rocked back and forth on his heels, holding your gaze for a little too long. “I’ll—uh, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Your face grew bright and warm, a glint of summer against the pale, grey sky. “Yeah, see you later, Eddie.”

There it was, the thing he really came for — his name. He sighed a smile and gave a single nod, turning slowly toward the door.

______

By the time he made it to chemistry class, Eddie was ready for a nap. Maybe it was the pizza that sat like a rock in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it was the fact that, yet again, he had stayed up entirely too late, lost in your world.

But he couldn’t just stop, not when Cybelle was being attacked by a ferocious fenfink — like a weasel, only much larger. Sharper claws, bigger teeth, and fatally attracted to something Cybelle had on her person. They were packing up camp in the morning when it happened. Perhaps it had been drawn to the smell of sweet Myrnish breakfast cakes, or the herbs stuffed inside Cybelle’s mask, or perhaps it was her gold amulet that sparkled in the glow of the fire. In hindsight, they really should have picked up a sword in Fenwood. Not that Lazarus had ever swung one. Not that he would trust himself to when the beast was grappling with the neckline of Cybelle’s coat as she struggled to fling it off her. Too much movement. Too many opportunities to miss. Instead, Lazarus had done the only thing he could manage to do in a panic, which is to grab the animal’s back and try to pry it off.

The path through the boglands was narrow with small allowance for a camp site. On either side lay deep, murky water spotted with mounds of moss and pale, petrified trees. The fenfink didn’t give up easy. It tore at her silk with its claws, sniffing and growling at her crescent moon mask as Lazarus tugged at its furry body. As Cybelle’s boots threatened stumble back over the berm of the trail and into the wet abyss, Lazarus tugged as hard as he could, but the animal snatched a lifeline; a shiny gold chain that glimmered in the pale blue light of the early morning.

It bent Cybelle forward at the neck. Time froze as her golden promise, his future, dangled in the space between them. Her hands fumbled at the animal’s rear claws to unlatch them from her abdomen. Eyes desperate, mask askew, Lazarus knew what he had to do. One good yank and the chain would break. She would be free, and he could hurl the beast into the bog to buy them time. He knew it could be done, in theory. What would become of the treasure, however, would be left entirely to fate.

In the glittering twinkle, he saw his cottage, his garden, his full size bed, his curtains billowing in the salty air. It swayed and skirted across the taught chain, dangling dangerously close to the edge of the murky water.

With a strangled cry, Cybelle worked the claws free of her dress, and he was left with a split second to decide. The golden tether winked in the fire’s glow. Fear flickered in her umber eyes. With a firm, decided tug, Lazarus broke the chain. Time slowed to a halt as the glimmering treasure launched upward with the force of it all. Cybelle stumbled back over the berm, grasping desperately at the air. It followed the arc that she took, hovering just out of reach. She just about bumped it with her fingertip, but the cold, wet shock at her back knocked the wind out of her.

Lazarus watched his dreams tumble into the water, helpless to stop it. As he grappled with the snarling beast, his eyes caught the last golden glimmer of hope before it plunked beneath the inky surface of the bog. He pivoted quickly, launching the creature in a heartbroken rage, and it flailed in the air before its headfirst collision with a tree scattered the birds for miles.

A wet, sobbing cough from the other side of path sent him scrambling toward it. Cybelle was a mess. Clambering on her knees, waist deep in a peaty, black filth that soaked through her gold coat. Her hands raked desperately, blindly, at the thick decay beneath the murky water.

Lazarus stumbled over the mossy ledge and into the bog, extending his hand, but she could not meet his eyes.

“I-I can find it,” she choked, sucking what little breath she could muster as the soaked fabric clung to her face. “It-it is somewhere here… I heard it.”

His heart sunk deeper than the treasure. “Please, Cybelle,” he pleaded.

“I can find it,” she insisted weakly, and another desperate grasp beneath the water sent her tumbling further down.

He dove in after her then, sinking deep into the muck to grab her by the waist before she slipped beneath the surface. Cybelle was persistent, twisting in his arms as sobs shook her tiny body. He simply gripped her tighter, drawing her toward his chest and out of the water. Her struggles paled to his strength.

“Please,” she whimpered, stamping his white linen shoulders with muddy hands. “I can—I can…” she could barely catch a breath, silk crescent now crooked and blackened with peat.

With both arms clasped tightly around her back, Lazarus shushed her. “It’s gone, Cybelle.” He could not hide the mourning in his voice.

She shut her eyes with a defeated grimace and went limp. Tears burned her lash line as she sobbed against his chest. They opened when she felt a finger brush behind her ear. Gingerly, slowly, Lazarus hooked his fingers through the loop of her mask, eyes darting back and forth between hers in a wordless request for permission. Her stillness granted it, and with that, he peeled it away.

In the pale blue light of the early morning, waist deep in muck and mire, Lazarus saw Cybelle. Not for the first time ever, but for the first time like this. Raw, and ragged, and inches apart. She inhaled deeply, freely, and for the first time when she breathed out, there were no barriers between them. They stood there a moment in a captivated stillness with nothing but the hum of frogs and song of birds.

Cybelle was the one to break the silence. “We might as well turn around then,” she wavered bitterly. “I have…” her breath hitched, “nothing to offer you.”

Lazarus sighed, shaking his head as he raked in her soft features. “Your company,” he began, “is enough.”

Cybelle shut her eyes, blinking tears over her lashes to streak trails through her the dirt on her cheeks, and for the first time, her muddy arms drew around his waist, and she embraced him.

Eddie pressed his heated forehead to the cool slate of the lab table and shifted his stool back against the floor with a loud screech. Images of fenfinks, and pendants, and bog mire danced behind his eyelids. He could hear the weary exhaustion in Mr. Westfield’s voice. He didn’t even need to look up to know he was leaning against his desk and running his hand through his thinning hairline as he’d done a hundred times before at the top of sixth period.

“Alright, so today we’re going to be creating magnesium oxide. Magnesium plus oxygen. Get it?” The question was answered with sleepy eyes and a few stray sniffles. Mr. Westfield sighed. “Right. Since the school can’t afford enough bunsen burners for all of you, this week you’ll be splitting up into pairs.”

The room came alive, eyes meeting eyes as claims flew across the room. Eddie peeked over his arms at the table in front of him. Tina was practically falling out of her stool as she reached for Chrissy on the other side of the room with grabby hands.

Mr. Westfield looked thoroughly unamused by the commotion. “I’ll be assigning them.”

The classroom groaned almost unanimously.

“Hate to be a party pooper,” he started, his tone indicating quite the opposite, “but you’re here to learn, not to chit-chat. Ok, let’s see here…” Mr. Westfield adjusted his glasses on his nose as he scanned down the list of names in his attendance book.

A restless silence fell over the room as the students awaited their fate.

“Looks like we have an even number, excellent. Tina, you’ll be with Bobby.”

Eddie could see Tina’s eyes roll through the back of her head.

Mr. Westfield peered up from his glasses. “Don’t act so excited. Ok, then we’ll have Ricky and Carmen, Sally and Janae…” he went down the list of names, checking them off and scribbling them on the side of the sheet to keep track.

Eddie sat up and glanced around the room as pairs were made, mentally checking off classmates as their names were called, ears perked and primed to hear his own. As the ones who remained dwindled and dwindled down to only two, his pulse quickened.

“Ok and then that just leaves Ms. Cunningham,” he punctuated with his pen, “and Mr. Munson.”

Fuck.

Eddie turned his head slowly, reluctantly, toward the other side of the room where Chrissy Cunningham sat, and was met with a soft, coy smile. He swallowed and whipped his head to face forward.

Un-fucking believable. If there was a God, which Eddie sincerely doubted, he sure had a twisted sense of humor.

Since their brief confrontation in the hallway following Tina’s Halloween party, Chrissy had, to his honest surprise, respected his wishes and kept her distance. It never stopped her from looking though. Stares, he would discover, were something you could feel. Burning into his temple from behind the curtain of his hair in class, heating the back of his neck at his locker as her perfume wafted up the hall. It was almost a daily occurrence.

As the classroom rearranged itself in a cacophony of screeching stools and shuffling backpacks, Eddie remained planted right were he was, thumbing at the bent spiral of his notebook, mind racing as his eyes glazed over. It was less than a minute before he smelled that familiar perfume and heard the stool next to him scoot against the floor.

“Hey,” came a voice like powdered sugar.

Eddie looked up from his notebook with a slow hesitance. “Hey.”

“I…grabbed you some safety glasses and an apron,” she said, setting the items on the counter.

Silently lamenting the idea of spending the remaining hour wearing them, he gave a single nod and thanked her.

The room bustled with chatter as Mr. Westfield came around to dole out the bunsen burners, crucibles, scales, and other small tools. “You got a hair tie, Munson?” he asked.

Eddie patted himself down and feigned disappointment. “Fresh out I’m afraid.”

“I’ve got one,” Chrissy interjected, rolling a powder blue scrunchie from her wrist to swing from the curve of her finger.

Eddie stared at it a second as it dangled in the space between them before snatching it. “Thanks,” he conceded. As he twisted the satin band around his curls to form a low ponytail, he could feel the heat from her gaze. It lingered as he put on his goggles, even as he tied the ribbons of the stiff apron behind his back.

Wayne, perceptive as ever, had been right all those years ago outside the auditorium. He did, at eleven, have a crush on Chrissy Cunningham, but there were only so many times a person could ignore him before he got the memo. Before he figured out he wasn’t worth their time. It wasn’t the first time it happened. In fact, Eddie had become so accustomed to getting looked through instead of at that he’d made it a lifestyle to stand out. To talk loud, and dress loud, and play loud. To bite back, and shirk rules, and cause a scene. And over the course of a year he barely remembered, he’d left whatever feelings he might have had for her exactly where they belonged; in the graveyard with everything else he would rather forget.

But for some reason this year was different. He wasn’t sure what switch flipped that caused her to suddenly see him. Maybe it was because she was tired of her meathead boyfriend and needed a distraction. Maybe it was because he looked especially dangerous this year. Maybe it was because he’d been held back so many times that he’d become more forbidden than ever; an odd and tempting fascination.

Eleven year old Eddie would have been elated. Twenty year old Eddie was, to put it simply, annoyed.

Mr. Westfield returned to the front of the classroom to give instruction, and Eddie tried his best to follow along with the handout.

The room sparked to life with the hiss of gas and the whump of it igniting from all corners. As the tall flame dance in front of him, Eddie tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that tempted him to dangle the sleeve of his flannel a little too close so he could escape to the nurse’s office. Freshman Eddie wouldn’t have thought twice.

Chrissy turned on the scale between them and set the empty clay crucible on top of it as instructed. She leaned in to record the weight and copied it onto her worksheet. Eddie did the same. According to the worksheet, the next step was to add the magnesium and weigh it again.

“Make sure the coil isn’t too tight,” advised Mr. Westfield, “you’re gonna want to leave room for air.”

Eddie picked up the clay triangle, doing his best to stay focused on the task, and set it on the metal ring above the flame as demonstrated.

“I think the ring is too high,” said Chrissy, leaning in to twist the clamp loose enough to lower it. “It’s gotta be like, in the blue part of the flame I think.” Her arm grazed his as she reached into his bubble, and suddenly he was back on that couch, feeling the her phantom fingers on the pins of his vest again, gold halo crooked, lips ghosting cherry alcohol. Eddie shot his gaze forward.

“Ok, now place the crucible in the center of the triangle,” Mr. Westfield instructed.

Eddie grabbed hold of the metal tongs and used them to pinch the pale clay vessel. Chrissy leaned closer as he lowered it to rest above the flame.

Then they would wait. In the waiting, the classroom grew louder. Tina stood by her stool, arms crossed, eyes cast sideways in annoyance as Mr. Westfield came over to address the lack of flame coming out of her bunsen burner.

Eddie sat there in tense silence, eyes fixed forward as the flame licked the crucible with its blue heat.

“You know, this definitely beats equations,” Chrissy remarked with a soft chuckle.

He couldn’t really argue with that. Eddie didn’t say that though, instead he just nodded quietly.

“Say um,” Chrissy thumbed at the gummy eraser of her pencil, “Jason hasn’t given you any trouble, has he?”

Resentment rose up from the graveyard. “Define trouble,” he groused.

Chrissy sighed. “He can be a real asshole sometimes,” she admitted, to his surprise.

Eddie took a deep breath. It was vivid — the way she stumbled off that couch. How she nearly tripped over her own shoes. How Jason barked at her. The crazed look in his eyes. The fear in hers. “Sometimes?” he bit back.

Chrissy toyed at the hem of her skirt. “He’s not all bad.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the inflection of her voice, or the way her eyes cast down in shameful denial, but it transported him — all the way back to that small kitchen table, feet dangling from the chair as the red wax in his hand filled in the flame from a dragon’s mouth. He could see his mother in the kitchen doorway, her finger coiled tightly around the telephone cord, uttering the same words to a concerned voice on the other end.

Eddie hardened his lips and shook his head bitterly. “Yeah, well, doesn’t make him good.”

“Alright folks, listen up,” Mr. Westfield called out, drawing the attention of the class. “Next you’ll add the oxygen by lifting the lid to let some air in.”

With a sudden, determined movement, Chrissy reached across him to grab the tongs, bracing herself against the slate table. She gave them a few clicks before pinching the handle to lift the small, clay lid. A reaction occurred; blinding and white, igniting the gap between crucible and lid in a flickering flare.

They jumped back in unison.

“Try not to stare,” advised Mr. Westfield with monotone enthusiasm. “You could damage your eyes.”

Timely advice. Eddie blinked the white dots that clung to his vision away, and a smile caught him by surprise, betraying his steely resolve.

Chrissy caught it, and her sea green eyes found his from across the bunsen burner as she lowered the lid again. “That was awesome,” she whispered wildly.

It was kind of cool, he had to admit. He would take playing with fire over staring numbly at numbers on a page any day. Eddie peered over the rim of his plastic safety glasses and offered a tentative smile.

The heating continued, allowing for air every once in a while until finally there was no more reaction. There wasn’t much to say. Eddie removed the crucible from the burner. Chrissy added water from the pipette until the contents formed a paste. Eddie returned the crucible to the heat. The water evaporated. In the silence of their cooperation, in the passing of tools and scribbling of notes, Eddie wondered how long it would be before Chrissy came to her own conclusions. If she would ever figure out that even though Jason wasn’t all bad, she could do so much better.

Not with him, but on her own.

Clutching the crucible in the tongs, Chrissy set it on the scale for the final time. They both copied the weight onto their worksheets — different than when they started.

With five minutes to the bell, the cleanup was frenzied; a clammer of equipment hastily returned to shelves and boxes backdropped against the hissing water of half a dozen sinks. Even Mr. Westfield had given up on volume control in favor of tidiness. Eddie rid himself of the dreaded apron and goggles just in time for the bell to ring, and with that he snatched his backpack from the floor and followed the flow of his classmates out the door.

It wasn’t until he made it to the hallway that he remembered. Reaching back behind his neck, he felt it; ruffled satin. The owner was only a few feet ahead, ponytail swaying in ruffled white cotton as she walked.

“Chrissy!”

Her footsteps slowed, eyes brimming with a coy mischief that shot dread down his spine when turned against traffic to face him.

______

“Outlines are due on Friday,” you called to your class as you wiped down the board, a cloud of chalk dusted the air as you swiped the soft eraser over the letters. Like the wave of a magic wand, the bell had turned your practically snoring class into an eruption of noise. Before you could hear a pin drop, now you had to shout. With two periods left in the day, you wondered how many more times you would answer the same question. How many more times you would ask one only to be met with coughs and tired eyes.

Your feet hurt. Even the boots you had chosen for comfort and practicality were causing an ache in the soles of them, the hard heel putting too much pressure on your own. The lukewarm coffee you’d savored during fifth period had long since run its course through you. Glancing up at the clock, you realized you had about five minutes to take care of business or be forced to suffer for the duration of seventh period as well. Setting down the eraser, the decision was easy.

Your tired feet clicked down the crowded hallway with a sense of urgency that seemed to evade the rest of traffic. Scent pockets of perfume, mint gum, cigarettes, and body odors wafted through the air as you hurried past the rows of slamming lockers, dodging a pair of students overcome with the temptation to roughhouse, one grabbing the other by the backpack and yanking, sprinting ahead so his friend couldn’t catch him. You sighed, voice too tired to conjure discipline.

As you picked up on that strange, familiar scent of the approaching science lab, your eyes, like a magnet, were drawn to a familiar silhouette, standing just outside the door. You would have recognized him anywhere, picked him out of a crowd of thousands. Flutters bloomed in your chest. His long, dark curls bounced as he shook them out with his hand, like he was scratching the back of his head.

It was enchanting; the way he did just about anything. The way he moved, his sharp elbows and quick hands, the bright timbre of his voice, how his energy could shift on a dime from a soft breeze to a ripping gust.

The past three weeks had been much of the same. Conversations that strayed from educational to casual. Lingering glances. Secret touches. Stolen moments. Never speaking the truth of your heart. Never offering more than your hand.

The flow of students swept you forward, and as you passed, a figure emerged from behind where his shoulders obscured. In the seconds that slowed to a crawl, your eyes gathered volumes.

Strawberry blonde, petite, clutching a book to her soft, white cardigan. Sparkling eyes under soft blue shadow, cocked head, fluttering lashes, a smile bright enough to draw a moth.

Craning your neck back as traffic surged, you searched for his eyes.

Eddie didn’t see you.

You blinked, hard, and snapped your gaze forward over the sea of students as your heart leapt into your throat.

It was fine.

Click.

It was nothing.

Click.

He’s allowed to talk to people.

Click.

He didn’t see you.

Click.

Of course not, it’s crowded.

Click.

It burned, like the image was seared into your retinas. Her clean, white sneaker coyly toeing at the tile. Teeth that teased at plump, pink lips. Heavy lidded eyes. Arched back. Delicate fingers curled around a textbook spine. You tried to blink it away.

It was fine. It was nothing.

You rounded the corner for the faculty bathroom, relieved to find it empty, and shut yourself inside. The tried old light bathed the room in a yellow wash. You locked the door and stood there for a moment, heart racing, chest heaving in the quiet reprieve from the bells, lockers, and voices. Space for your thoughts to grow louder as you went about your business.

Why shouldn’t he talk to some girl? There was nothing wrong with that. In the glimpse that you caught of his face, it was lacking in distinct expression. Listening. Nothing worth noting. It was hers that really stuck with you. Her rosy cheeks and perky ponytail. The way she batted her eyes and licked her lips like she wanted to make a meal out of him.

Eddie Munson; summer wind. Tall and roguish, charming and animated, full of surprises. It was shocking he was single. Downright unbelievable that no other woman in this entire school would harbor any feelings. There had to be at least a handful that cast shy gazes as they passed him in the hallway. At least a few that floated curious whispers across lunch tables. In the dark corners of your imagination you had always figured, you’d just never seen it. And now the image wouldn’t leave you. Sticky. Clinging like you’d stepped in gum.

You met your tired eyes in the mirror above the sink. Timeless, it mocked, as the whisper of lines became canyons.

On the other side of the door was sea of young women. Free to talk and gawk and get into the sort of trouble he surely had a taste for. The kind of trouble you only had the freedom to imagine. How long before the novelty of you wore off? Before his restless hands sought something more? Something he could grasp in broad daylight? Someone who could keep his stride, share a milkshake or a bucket of popcorn?

You cast your welling eyes downward, turned on the water, wet your hands, and pumped the soap.

It started subtle, last spring. Started with the way he looked at you; a flame that dimmed to embers over months of dinners spent alone, plates gone cold, beds left empty, leaving you with nothing but to wonder how he looked at her.

Time moves quickly for young men. You of all people would know it. Like a wildfire; hungry and insatiable, devouring everything in its path. It renders promises of meaning, leaves the past in charred remains. It surges ever forward, seeking fuel.

It left behind an ice in you. Stalling over the sink as the world surged on outside, you felt it seize your chest again.

Eddie Munson; wildfire. Twenty years old. Restless. Reckless. He wasn’t your boyfriend. You weren’t an item. You were nothing.

The water was scalding. Bubbles erupted as you worked up a lather. Scrubbing your knuckles, your palms, the space between your fingers where his had nestled once.

No. You weren’t nothing.

The bell had you flinching; a loud and shrill summons back to your post, your place, your duty.

You were his teacher.

Pinballs. Louder than the shrieking bell. Louder than ever before. You didn’t dare meet your eyes again, frightened of what sort of monster would stare back.

What am I doing?

You turned off the water and paused, hands weeping over the sink.

It was foolish, to play with fire. It was foolish just about anywhere, but here the walls were made of tinder, the desks of charcoal. His fingers like matches, striking you with every touch. But oh, how you craved the heat. Close enough to thaw you; the ice deep in your chest, weeping as it melted, pooling in your lap, making puddles on the floor.

Droplets fell to the tile as you turned to grab a paper towel. It soaked through, blooming dark, wet patches as the brown paper blotted up the dampness.

You shook your head bitterly. No. You certainly weren’t nothing. You were a phase. A passing fancy. An odd fascination. You would never make it to May. You’d be lucky if you made it to January without losing his interest entirely.

You crumpled the soggy paper in your fists and threw it in the trash. Blinking back tears, you pressed your hand to the door and took one deep, final breath as you prepared to face the world again — to put on your mask and perform in front of twenty pairs of judging eyes.

The gap was enormous. Cavernous and treacherous. He deserved someone he could be with in public. Someone he could take to a park or a movie. Someone he could go to fucking prom with.

With a ragged exhale, you pressed open the door.

He deserved someone his own age.

The hall was a flurry of slamming lockers, a scattering of the few straggling students who rushed to find their classrooms. The wind cooled your heated face as you marched, one foot in front of the other, to your post. Shoulders back, deep breaths, sore feet making echos off the polished tile.

He’d get tired of you too.

Click.

They always do.

Click.

The hall stretched on like an Escher drawing, twisting and distorting in your vision as you neared your classroom door. Tears threatened your lashes, and you huffed them away with a determined shrug of your shoulders.

As your fingers grazed the cold metal handle, you caught your own eyes in the glass. Sad and droopy, welling with longing and resentment. On the other side you could already hear the commotion, the questions, the stares, the awkward silence. The bell rang again — a final warning.

With a heavy sigh, you turned the handle.

______

Eddie twisted the ridged dial of his locker in his fingers, left and right until he heard a click. Popping the door open and slinging his backpack forward on his shoulder, he unloaded three weighty textbooks into the dark, cluttered enclosure. He grabbed his thick, leather coat, tucked it under his arm, and slammed the door shut.

In the absence of the books, and of the dimming noise as it filtered out through the front doors and into the parking lot, he felt another weight lift in him. In a matter of minutes, the mindless chatter, the tried scenery of this dull prison, the days worth of stares that clung to him like glue would fall away as he passed the threshold of your door.

With every step he took, Eddie felt lighter. The slamming lockers didn’t phase him, the weird looks from freshmen went right through him, even the shoulder check from a jock coming around the corner glanced right off. In a million years he never would have expected to feel relieved to stay after school, or a pep in his step as he approached a classroom, but in a million years he never expected to find you behind the big desk.

He could feel the warmth already as he approached your open door. Hear your laughter at his stupid jokes, feel the heat of your arm graze his, catch your hand, and you, by surprise. But when he turned into threshold, knuckles raising out of habit to rap against it, he was met with a different scene.

You didn’t look up. Not even when tapped his knuckles to the wood in a shave-and-a-haircut—two-bits pattern. Head cast down over a sea of papers, you looked like you were drowning. He padded slowly toward the big desk, face dropping as he noticed another detail: the wooden folding chair—his chair—sat empty and open. Across from you.

Eddie dropped his backpack to the floor with a heavy thump, making his presence known. “Hey,” he started, tentative and cautious.

It wasn’t until he was practically towering over you that you finally looked up at him, face heavy, expressionless, tired. “Hey,” you stated plainly.

Eddie craned his head and searched your eyes. “You ok?”

You blinked and swallowed. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

He stood like this a moment, vision locked with yours, dark eyes roving, searching. When you offered nothing more, he simply nodded once, strolled around to the front of your desk, grabbed the back of the chair with a determined slap, and dragged it around to where it belonged — beside you.

He took his place in it; draping his coat over the back of it like always, creaking the wood with his weight as he plunked himself down.

You resumed wading through the sea, heavy gaze cast over it.

Eddie toyed with a pencil on your desk, tapping the eraser to the wood as his eyes bored a hole into the side of your head. You just kept on roving, shoulders tense, lips worried. He could have been invisible, watching you from a hole in a poster, or a crack in the wall. You offered him the same level of attention. “Something’s wrong,” he confronted, unable to take the frigid silence for a moment longer.

You sighed and set your pen down. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” your hand worried the back of your neck, “…a lot, this time of year, work wise.” Your eyes met his only for a second before casting downward again at the pages. “Here, let me clear this up.” Your hands busied themselves with the mess, shuffling the paper into a clumsy, hurried pile.

“No—no, it’s…it’s ok.” He scooted his chair closer, feeling so useless all of a sudden, burdensome, like his presence added to your task load. He wanted to help, to alleviate the tension, but his hands simply fumbled in his lap as you collected the clutter with your chalk dusted knuckles. As you tapped the pile of papers against the desk in haste to form a semblance of a pile, his hand gained a mind of its own.

As if possessed by its own separate consciousness, an impulse deep and thrumming with the need to soothe, it took up refuge in the place between your shoulders; warm and firm, drawing slow, caring circles at your blouse.

You froze, papers stiff against the surface, gaze straight ahead. His hand followed suit, freezing, twitching, arm locked in its extension.

“Y-you should—” you stuttered, blinking wildly as you found your breath. “Why don’t you go grab your schoolwork?” you asked with a curtness that startled him.

Eddie lurched his hand away like you were a hot stove. “I—I’m sorry I just… w-wanted to help. I’m sorry.” His mind became a whirlpool, swirling with worry as his stomach did backflips. He fumbled with the zipper on his backpack.

“No—no, Eddie, I’m… I’m sorry,” you lamented.

He’d never seen your face so fraught. Like you’d stepped on a cat’s tail, chased it through the house with apologies.

“It’s not your fault, it’s…” You swallowed, breaking his gaze. You couldn’t finish the sentence. You didn’t need to.

Mine.

He was losing you.

He should have expected it by now. What could he possibly offer you anyway? His hand? A few stolen moments? Some flirty comments to make you feel good about yourself for a second or two?

He wondered when the other shoe would drop. When you would open your eyes and see this for what it really was — that you were a grown ass woman with a college degree and a real career, and he was twenty years old repeating his senior year of high school for the third fucking time, selling drugs to teenagers, and oh, your student for fuck’s sake.

It wasn’t lost on him; that he was playing tee-ball in a big league stadium. He stared into the crumpled contents of his backpack with a deep, shaking breath, and pulled out his notebook. It fell from his hand with a dejected slap against the big desk; juvenile amidst the tidy assortment of office supplies. The spiral was bent and crumpled, the cover worn soft from abuse. He sat there a moment and stared at it as the heavy silence swallowed you both.

Your lips hardened to a bitter line, eyes cast down over the evidence of your position. Over the evidence of his. You wouldn’t look at him, like you were afraid to. Finally, after a suffocating minute, you spoke — frigidly professional. “What do you want to work on today?”

The question sent a hot rage coursing through him. So that was it, then? Business as usual? Pretending like nothing happened? That none of this was real? Eddie sat back in his seat and boiled with a gaze so intense it could have burned right through you. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of an answer. Not until you gave him enough respect to look him in the eyes when you asked the question.

You just sat there, frozen, shoulders locked, eyes cast down at the big desk for an agonizing moment that stretched well past the point of comfort. His gaze was unrelenting, fueled by stubborn indignation. You felt it. He knew you did, because when you finally did submit your eyes to him, you flinched.

He almost felt bad for it. For causing you to shrink so small, to look so fragile, like how you did when you’d relinquished a fragment of your past, when the impulse to soothe you drove him to your hand. The impulse rose again, as did some annoyance by it; the grip you had on him, even in his most determined anger.

“What?” you choked out, barely above a whisper.

You knew damn well what. The audacity to ask sent heat coursing through his veins again, but the look in your eyes, like cornered prey, quelled the fire enough to sigh his way to a level-headed response. “You’re acting different,” he said simply.

You swallowed, breaking his gaze like you’d been caught. It would be insulting to deny it. He could see the gears turning over in your head, the thoughts forming careful words behind your eyes, but in the end, all you could muster was, “I’m sorry.”

It was a weak admission. It answered nothing, really, other than confirming his suspicions. But it was something. He wanted to press, to poke, to pry, and get to the bottom of what caused this shift in you, but in the silence of the classroom, with floors that echoed and walls that listened, words like “you won’t let me touch you,” seemed too far too direct, far too pointed. In the end, it was your eyes that said the most; welling like pools with all the words he knew would pierce the ever thinning veil, poke holes in your shared secrets, make them monstrous and real.

In the end, your eyes just tugged him forward, made him soft and pliant until all he could muster was decency. “It’s…” he sighed, raking his hand through his hair, “it’s fine.” Soft as he intended it, he couldn’t hide the broken edge.

There was little relief in sigh you gave, heavy and ragged. Your fingers grazed the curled, beaten corner of his notebook with a caring reverence that made him wish that he was paper.

He wondered how much longer it could go on like this, before you craved something more than he could offer. Before you tired of secret touches and passing glances. Before some hot-shot with a convertible saw you at a bar somewhere and swept you away. The crushing realization hung heavy in the space between you, the gap more cavernous than ever.

Eddie twisted his rings in his lap, fingers burning. It was a miracle you’d let him touch you to begin with. But you did, and he had, and by god, he refused to go back. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. Not when you’d let him into your world, given him more than he ever thought possible — a sliver of hope. For you. For himself.

When the silence became too much for him to bear, he broke it with your name.

Your first name.

Bitter grief melted to soft shock as your lips parted, eyes widened. At last, he had your full attention.

With a deep breath, he started. “I don’t… know what happened. If it’s something I did o-or something someone said, or, fuck,” he ran hand through his hair, exasperated, words trailing off into nothing.

“Eddie,” you started, eyes softening deeper; into sympathy, into pity. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he snapped, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him.

You swallowed, shaking your head, but before you could give an answer he didn’t want to hear, he continued.

“I know, it—it’s ludicrous, this whole thing. To think that I—” he breathed a bitter laugh, “that you,” he glanced at the door.

But instead of shutting him down with the ugly truth, you leaned closer, like your whole world hinged on him. He saw it then, hope, glimmering like a golden treasure in the tremble of your lips, in the pinching of your brow, in the welling of your eyes that threatened to spill over.

“I know,” you whispered, like it caused you pain.

Slowly, Eddie raised his hand to rest on top of his notebook, a fractional distance from yours. Close enough to feel your heat, to catch the subtle tremble of your knuckles. So transfixed by the curve of your delicate fingers beside the broad, ruddy angles of his, that had he not dared to draw his eyes away, he might have missed the tear that pinched through your lashes when you closed them.

Slowly, bravely, he inched his pinky forward. Just close enough to graze yours. It was a phantom of a touch, but you didn’t pull away. In fact, when he looked up, he was surprised to see a whisper of a smile. A sad, soft thing, like it was breaking through layers to surface. Emboldened, he raised his pinky, ever so slightly, to gently stroke yours. The gesture was small and silly, but enough to earn a puff of laughter through the smile that cracked the gloom upon your features.

It opened up a narrow passage, and he entered with the boldest thing that he had ever said.

Maybe it was the fact that he was too stubborn, or perhaps too stupid for his own good, but the sheer audacity of what came out of his mouth next surprised even himself. “Um, my band is playing at the Hideout tomorrow—a-and—” he swallowed, gaining composure as he raised his eyes to your level with conviction. “I want you to come.”

It was all he could offer. An experience.

Your jaw dropped.

“I think—I-Iwant you to see some of the new stuff we’ve been working on. I think you’d like it,” he peddled on.

“Oh, Eddie I—” you shook your head. “I don’t know, I mean—”

He doubled down, brows level and serious. “We—we don’t have to come together. Hell, bring a friend, bring several. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if we don’t make it a big deal. People go to bars all the time.”

As you worried your lips in your teeth, he could see the scales tipping back and forth, weighing the odds and risks against the want. “Oh god, I don’t know.”

“You’re allowed to exist in public. You don’t just like… fold your arms and retreat into the walls here at night,” he laughed.

It snapped a chuckle out of you, like sunlight peeking through the clouds. “Oh yeah? Tell that to the students I run into at the grocery store,” you quipped. Then, as quickly as the sunlight came, the clouds were back. You surveyed the room and dropped your eyes in pensive worry.

Eddie stroked his pinky over yours, slowly, sweetly. “Please?”

You gave him a look, one that threatened resistance but hiding just beneath it, surrender.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he persuaded, “just me on stage, and you in the audience cheering with your girlfriends or whatever, well, hopefully cheering. I mean ‘Hand of Doom’ is still a crapshoot sometimes but,” he breathed a laugh.

With a chuckling shake of your head, your resolve crumbled like sand in front of his eyes.

“You can boo us too, wouldn’t be the first time. We’ve got tough skin.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “I’m not gonna boo you.”

A wicked grin cracked like lightning across his face. “Not gonna, you mean you’ll come then?”

You sighed, deep and heavy, shifting the scales back and forth.

Eddie tipped his head and raised his eyebrows. “You know you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” you deadpanned.

His umber eyes glimmered, wild and auspicious. “Well then, do what you want,” he said, sitting back in his seat like the decision was easy.

Want. A shelved, forgotten thing, like something you’d lost in the move. Something you’d tucked away long before that. Left to grow stale inside a box, in the back of a closet, in a place you barely remembered.

It sat beside you now, loud and unignorable, with lips that begged and eyes that pleaded. And you, in all your years of practiced discipline, could no longer deny it.

Eddie Munson; wildfire. Restless, frenetic, warm, and compelling.

With a dignified sigh, and a verdant conviction that peeked through the ash, you turned to him at last, and surrendered.

______

A/N: So begins the craziest week in the whole story. Two words: Donkey Kong. 😈

The next chapter might take me a little longer than usual just because it's a moment we've all been waiting for and I want to make sure it's absolutely perfect.

Also, I've been featured on a PODCAST so if you want to hear me talk about this story and specifically the appeal of reader insert fics, check it out HERE!

✨ As always, nothing encourages me to continue writing this story more than hearing from you. Seriously, please give me your thoughts, your theories, your keyboard smashes. Hit up my inbox, my DMs, whatever suits your fancy.

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#seriously guys I'm stoked about this one #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x teacher!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #don't stand so close to me

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