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satoruhour · 1 year

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ur gonna get sick of seeing me in ur inbox lol but t i’ve been thinking a whole lot about sugar daddies and i need to know what the jjk men would be like as sugar daddies and what type of sugar baby they’d go for and and and their favourite things to do with you, both inside and outside the bedroom 💖 and how likely they are to fall in love and make u their wifey

a/n: i am so normal about jjk men. this shit is so long i got carried away. it’s too long that i’ll need to seperate and post nanami’s and toji’s part in a second post TT pt. 2 here

warnings: long piece, sugar daddy!au, discussions of kinks including daddy kink, creampies / breeding, public sex, exhibitionism, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, facials, cumshots, praise, degradation, dp, threesome, voyeurism, orgasm denial, overstimulation, lingerie, brat-taming, let me know if i missed anything. n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

most annoying sugar daddy eva but he’s one of the fun ones where he feels like your best friend and sponsor all in one

i honestly see gojo not having a preference for specific sugar babies, but he doesn’t like babies who are ashamed of their relationship. like it’s one thing to be private of your relationship but another to introduce satoru as just your trust fund without alluding to your relationship

“he’s helping me with my university fees” like yeah any rich FRIEND could do that but it’s different from hooking an arm around his to introduce you two as a couple

sure maybe he may have blurred the lines at first when touches became more personal and whatnot but at this point he’s basically your boyfriend — even if you don’t want to explain the sugar daddy part, he still wants to be know as your partner and equal

you two “met” at an event where you were paid minimum wage for a waitress job, serving drinks to rich ppl and he’s so entranced with how you move. it’s not until later when he goes outside to accompany geto for a smoke that he sees you and your friends who worked the job together just talking and laughing in the parking lot while you rested your feet

it was cute and refreshing seeing your laughter after experiencing your stoic expression in the stuffy event even he didnt want to go to. since it was once of the first few events he started attending as a new CEO

made an impression by approaching you when your friends went in and your back was turned but you took him as a creep and screamed and punched him and he’s groaning while you just apologise profusely

it’s his fault, he knows, approaching in such a dark area but he doesnt mind the dark bruise forming on his nose bridge even when his best friend was laughing from a distance and youre helping him off the ground. your hands are so soft and your voice so sweet he swears he wants to protect you from the get go

after that whole hooha, he finds out youre still a uni student trying to pay off fees and randomly asks if you want to be his sugar baby and realises he wants you to be his gf when you’re playing some digimon video game at his house, enjoying your winter break. youre triumphant in the round and he grabs your wrist mid celebratory pose and pulls you to him

are you going to punch me for payback? gojo pfts and laughs, and just says just wanted to tell you i like you and LEAVES dude is so afraid of your answer until youre wrapping your arms arnd him from behind muttering out a finally and hearing the vibration of his chuckle

gojo wants his baby to ask for help when you needs it, and doesn’t mind being spoiled

LOVES to buy you flashy stuff. glittery, bright coloured things (that somehow still look classy) that scream expensive. gojo is very good at persuasion. he listens you dont like it however

i feel like the more he gets to know you, he understands your style more so while some of the things he buys are still fairly gaudy, you’re surprised every time he manages to purchase something that fits your preference. he’s gotten very good at it

gojo wires you money when he feels like it, whenever. he calls what he has a “sugar baby radar” and it’s just him thinking youre panicking over not having money for a textbook or something and just types in a random amount to transfer to you lol

he’s just a chill guy though, who wants to be a good boyfriend as he is a sugar daddy. like yeah he’s had sugar babies before and he enjoys giving but you’ve always hooked him in from day one and he realises he doesn’t just want to give you money but love too

gojo wants a bit of balance in the relationship as well — so he accompanies you to fashion stores to try on clothes but he would also love it if you followed him to tailor stores or watch stores for normal CEO stuff

you roll your eyes but actually you love every suit he changes into, and you always think of taking him right there

he LOVES his sunglasses that’s one thing he’s always dragging you to look at

and then there is interests that involve the both of you: lingerie shopping lol, jewellery, etc

he gets you a little G.S. initial necklace for your second anni and it looks so cute on you

clingy and so annoying bout it. you love it tho, seeing such a rich guy babble out five more minutes with hair sticking out everywhere.

he surrenders to you easily in the way he lets you crash his place whenever you’re cramming for an exam, or just needs some comfort. his things becomes yours very easily and he smiles when he finds himself wanting to learn how to cook properly when you’re sleeping in

likes to buy lingerie that matches his eyes, but ofc also picking your preferred colour. but seeing the fabric that matches the blue of his eyes drives him crazy, but also he gets to say “my eyes are always on you” and it’s just a reference to how there’s baby blue lingerie on you

HES SO LAME . i swear to god.

also a little bit of a boomer when it comes to younger slang and whatnot and it’s endearing to see when he’s supposed to be a CEO but you can’t help but laugh when he asks you for help on what fomo meant

very open on topics that touchy subjects or sensitive things. he may appear loud and annoying but he’s got depth to him due to his hardships since he was young. like yeah sure a guy who already was in line to take over his father couldn’t have hardships when he was young but he’s always despised this line of work. satoru is still finding a way to break off from his toxic family business to create his own, something that wont come without blackmail and scandals

the first time you heard this you were surprised because you had never seen gojo so serious before. he mentions it’s not obligatory for you to open up as well, but you mumble along about always struggling with money and working jobs to make ends meet. it’s not detrimental, but sometimes you wish there was someone treating you to a small meal or drink

this vulnerable state was early on in your relationship as well, and as you two go along, gojo is so grateful to be able to take care of you. it strengthens your relationship as well, because while you have your funny, hysterical moments, being vulnerable with your sugar daddy turned boyfriend is everything you could ask for

gojo realises the first time he might put a ring on you was when you guys had sex that was intense and broke the headboard LMFAO you two laughed about it during it, but during aftercare you’re patting his chest, telling him how you’ll end work early to meet him at IKEA to get a new one tomorrow — that simple act of going with someone to find furniture like ohhhh my god he was so whipped

like it’s one thing to buy clothes and material things but when you said that, flashes of your possible married life flashed before his eyes and he wants to say i love you but finds you’re already asleep. he can’t wait to actually move out of his family sponsored home into an apartment with you. gojo doesn’t care if it’s smaller than mansions and penthouses. if you’re happy, he is.

n*sfw hc’s below

gojo is open to a lot of things regarding your sex life. he didn’t want to scare you when you first started out but when he found out you’re just as much of a freak as he is he’s going to pound town baby!

not big on the daddy kink ngl (and he also because he’s too pathetic to be called a daddy), but loves using it in the context of cumming in you and breeding you and the prospect of you being pregnant with his child.

even if it’s not on his checklist right now, he just loves the filthiness and saying things like that

loves to fuck in bathrooms of important events, the cold marble against your skin making you freeze up as your eyes can hardly focus on your reflection. you’re just thankful you were able to find the ‘cleaning’ sign to prevent anyone from entering

loves to tease you and threaten to take away his black card and youre whining. hes annoying, asking you to use your words and youre begging to cum on his fingers.

very playful in the bedroom but he’s always calling you his dumb baby who loves getting fucked stupid by him until theres only money and him on your mind

loves it when you wear the extensions to the G.S. initial necklace, buying four more initials: two for your wrist, two for your ankles so he can hear it jingle when you stroke his cock while your flick your tongue at his tip

r hear it next to his ear when your legs are on his shoulder as he rails into you

on a funnier note he would totally fuck you on a bed of money. just for shits and giggles

loves to film you especially in his office, whether you’re playing with yourself or sucking him off or getting fucked he loves it so much bc of the fact he’s so unprofessional in a professional setting

gojo likes it when you initiate sex, especially in places that are risky and pretty public. his office is a starter, coming in dressed in a tight pencil skirt to mirror his insufferable PA who kept making advances on him. she was demoted the very next day LMFAO

but yeah you wore the skirt to provoke him, pulling his tie over the table while a stocking clad knee rests on his wooden desk. there’s a confidence in you he’s never seen before and he just cant resist flicking his eyes down to the suffocating button up shirt you’ve got on

satoru doesn’t care that his whole office can hear you moan out his name or the slaps of his balls on your ass. or doesn’t really care about the construction workers looking at you two go at it like rabbits from the opposite building

the heat of the glass paired with your body that feels on fire is enough to make you lightheaded but the eyes and ears peeking in on your intercourse is so thrilling to you bc you know gojo can just pay them off to shut the fuck up

loves you on your knees giving him head when he’s in an important meeting, the swirl of your tongue feeling so good on his length

but what’s more he loves giving you head even more. doesnt matter where. office table, washing machine, bed, he’s so in love with your cum and cunt and has to eat you out at least once a day

gojo loves to cum in you but also on your face, especially if you wear glasses. seeing his white hot cum splattered on your lenses and your face while your tongue darts out to lick some of it off he swear there’s a few more blobs of cum that seeps out from his tip

warnings for drabble: reader has glasses, pet names, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, face-fucking, praise, facial, cum eating, semi-public sex

“baby— sweetness, oh my g-god…” gojo whines out, once the board members are out of the meeting room, rolling his chair back slowly while you follow on your knees, cock still in your mouth. he’s glancing down at you with such need you’d think you’re the one leading the relationship, the hands in your hair tightening when you lick down his shaft before taking one of his balls in his mouth, sucking at the sack while pumping him.

the long acrylic nails that he paid for are on display along with your G.S. bracelet as you pump his dick, slick, wet noises fill the spacious meeting room. gojo almost wants to say something but your head descends on his large cock again, taking him right to the back of your mouth when his tip hits your throat and you struggle to keep your eyes open as you breathe through your nose.

“fuuckk… that’s it. take me s’well,” satoru moans at the tears forming at your waterline, pulling your head off for a moment for you to catch your breath and you know what he wants to do, because his hips cannot resist one bit whenever you’ve got his dick in your mouth. slowly, he starts to move his body off the office chair, thrusting up into your waiting, obedient mouth and he moans so loud he isn‘t surprised someone hasn’t come in already.

“so wet and warm, princess— s-shit, can’t wait to fuck your cute little pussy,” he has a foul mouth, and you moan around his length at the words, hands tensing around his thighs as he continued to fuck your face. gojo is so rough that your glasses are messed up, tilting to one side but you continue to feel up his body. you would get fired like this, sucking the cock of someone who has their pants pulled down halfway while wet, gurgling noises fill the space. but you knew the CEO, the man who’s now whining out your name as his hips start to stutter, eyes scrunched up in pure pleasure before forcing you off his cock, hands stroking his leaking cock in quick movements. you adjust your glasses like a good girl, sticking out your tongue as you admire the sight before you. want my cum all over your face, angelface?

satoru whimpers out that he’s gonna cum! with his heavy, beautiful cock out, pumping harshly before he shoots his load all over you, spilling his white, viscous liquid all over your face and glasses and you swallow whatever that’s close to your mouth and tongue, darting out to lick up the heavy ball of cum still leaking from his sensitive tip, and he jolts on your tongue.

you giggle, hand closing around his length once more and gojo just groans at its warmth. he loves it, he loves everything ’bout you and he can’t wait to turn over the tables later when he hears you say, “again.”

✶GETO

doting sugar daddy!!! out of sex life he’s the most ‘giving’, but he has his moments of depriving you of things because you being a brat but yes he’s the softest in the normal context of a relationship

similarly, not much preference for sugar babies but he wouldn’t like babies who ask for too much? idk if that makes sense but it’s more of being given so many options of a type of clothing or bag but still whining to want something more expensive

like the money doesn’t bother him but it’s more of your attitude regarding material things. can’t stand babies who are rotten to the core and are actually spoiled that it ruins the act of him giving you things and of you asking for things because no matter what he buys you’re not satisfied

it also pisses him off if it carries into your way of treating people, dragging him away from his co-workers to only want him for yourself, that sort of thing

yea… that. unfortunately he’s had his fair share of babies like that, bc he’s so generous they end up so spoiled and terrible that even now he’s still getting texts from them. poor guy

he likes if you’re able to bite back with your own sort of fire, he doesnt expect you to if you dont like to but it turns him on seeing you shout at a co-worker for gossiping about your relationship perhaps

he met you through your intern position at his company, and it’s been a few weeks before you’re confused at why the CEO wanted to see you

hes not one to rush into relationships but he was so interested in seeing you react to being asked to be his sugar baby that he blurts it out and slaps his hand on his mouth. “wrong thing. my bad”

when you’ve been under his care for a few months, he sees how hard you work while completing other assignments at lunch, he wants you to surrender to him when you need the comfort. lets you sleep in his office and reluctantly stroked your hair, shaking when you lean into the affection. ends up sleeping on the floor watching you and gets massive back pain and suffocates when you fall onto your boss at 7am in the morning

unfortunately the two of you were not exactly on the same page that day. you thought it was a one off thing. geto thinks youre already dating. this goes on for a few weeks ;;;

geto NEEVERR asked you out so you were surprised to find that geto wanted to be like, an actual boyfriend and an actual date when he showed you a piece of paper and it was like a new pottery studio that opened down the road

and he just says “i thought we already were dating?????”

yeah like he wasnt giving you more things than usual and being more touchy with you. you didnt want to read into it too much okay!!!!

but it’s fine, because geto was one of the best boyfriend you ever had. youre convinced he would be a great bf even if you werent in this sugar daddy / baby arrangement

geto likes to show you off quietly, a hand on your back and your thigh, or a whisper to your ears that it has the other workers talking, but you don’t mind when the things he says are sometimes the sweetest things. they’re also filthy.

it isnt bc he doesn’t want to show you off, but he likes the attention and gossip when you enter his office for the nth time that day and the eyes on him like he’s committing a crime. he likes the eyes that follow you knowing they can't have you. but he pays them, so they can’t say much

suguru loves to buy things that are for his eyes, going back to the ‘showing you off quietly’ part, like paying for a tattoo on your lower back, an anklet that’s sometimes hidden in your shoe, a belly button piercing, lingerie, he loves it

ofc he loves buying you clothes and dresses too, but he sometimes gets a bit jealous of everyone’s eyes on you so they’re sometimes a little less revealing than you would like

ok i should clarify too: he LIKES everyone’s eyes on you only when he knows he can show and tell them that youre his. but how tf is he supposed to do that with a mere dress??? u get what i mean

he’s not going to be an asshole and not let you wear a revealing piece of apparel that you like tho! but just know what you’ll be getting later at night lol

geto is very on trend as an older person, sometimes sending you tiktok trends you can do or updating you on conventions or events that you are interested in

he likes routine, so everyday he’ll be transferring a set amount of money to you for your daily allowance but sometimes you dont even use it all so it just piles up in your account lol

and he is observant, always wiring you more money than usual if you’re going out with your friends or meeting a friend for a bday, sacrificing his time to learn about your major so he can help you in whatever way he can !!! he’s that sort of bf

gives you handmade gifts sometimes!! it’s soooo endearing when he makes time for it and gives you something that isnt bought w/ money. likes to do those photo ones bc theyre ones that mean more to him, but he also rlly likes writing letters under them and giving you like a seven page letter talking bout why youre a blessing to him

is pretty stylish when he’s not in his suits. likes to wear baggy clothes like he’s nineteen again and he looks young enough to pull it off so you two always look cool when you two go out

weirdly his personality at work and on dates is vastly different from each other. you think that maybe he wants to keep work, work. but later on in the relationship you both realise it’s how you’re so easy-going to be around that he doesn’t have to be dominating with you??? like he’s so okay with you putting bunny ears on him or having his arm hooked around yours instead. basically he’s very comfortable in his masculinity and he wishes he could be like that at work too, but the finance bros would be questioning why this guy was even their CEO

geto listens to you easily. and like i said hes observant, bringing you a glass of water when you’re coughing or opening the blinds of his office when you’re reading. the smile you give him after every favour he does is enough reward for him, and he really doesn’t mind doing all those things for you either.

basically worships you, so when you’re suggesting that his company start having courses for men to learn how to be proper human beings (following your question of why he’s so diff at work vs with you), he’s immediately setting up a meeting to achieve that. the guys who are borderline misogynists obviously leave immediately and hes just like. why didnt i think of that b4????

is always always thinking of you. he’s become so distracted in meetings and conversations sometimes and your spell on him is hypnotising.

the first time he realises he properly loves you (and also wants to marry you) is when you two make love. like yes you’ve fucked and shit but it happens inside a shower where you offered to wash his hair. it’s cute seeing you stand on a small stool to reach his height, but the feel of your fingers massaging the shampoo into his scalp is soooo good. and from there he lets you wash his body with the loofah too, scrubbing down every inch until ofc one thing leads to another

he thinks it was your hands that held so much love, washing his body that the sex was slow and had a lot of feelings laced with it.

he also didn’t want to fall, though. but you slipped a little after coming the first time and geto was able to catch you in time. you shared giggles and a little kiss and he thinks that maybe this life forever with you would be one of the best things to happen to him

his resolve solidifies later when he’s calling his usual tiler to retile the showering part of the bathroom and when he ends the call he just goes would i do this for anyone else?

yeah probably not — and so geto buys a ring the very next day

n*sfw hc’s below

very comfortable with letting you take the lead if you want to, but usually likes to be the one running the show

like gojo he is very open to things but only if you’re okay with it. like you have to be the one to bring it up or he’s afraid he’ll scare you lol

gets turned on easily, but he’s very good at hiding it. like the day you wore a revealing dress to his office. it was so difficult not to moan out when he sees you walk through the door. he wanted to stand up and kiss you SO bad but he was in a zoom meeting with potential clients lmfao

but he made sure you knew you wouldnt be teasing him and getting off so easily that day after he asks you to stay where you were and he ended up making up some lame excuse of having another meeting anyway before he leaves the call and locks the door and slams you against it and he hikes up your dress as he places a leg on his shoulder

geto eats you out right then and there

also rmb how i said he gets jealous of ppl staring at you? well suguru loves it if it were to happen in a sexual context and he gets to fuck you in front of everybody. he just cant show them you belong to him at a normal event in a dress he bought, but he’s totally fine with pounding you from behind and letting them watch as you get ruined with tears and mascara running down your face

can be really mean behind doors if he’s not sweet with you. you like to tease him!!!! Sometimes you’re punished for it!!!! geto loves both ends of the spectrum: denying you your high and overstimulating you. he only ever denies you if youre being a brat but usually he likes to make you cum on his tongue multiple times before he’s fucking you

he enjoys your face of want and need, either grinding against him to cum (denial) or pushing him away despite your body wanting it (overstim)

sometimes makes you work for your allowance and tells you to tell him who’s fucking you so good just for some money in your pocket. your pussy is too good so he was going to give it to you anyway

is not opposed to voyeurism. usually he brings his best friend over to fuck you and bc he’s a whiny bitch, geto gets off to both of you fucking like dogs in heat with a slow pace to his hand. often initiates threesomes with gojo and makes him the middle man, fucking him while gojo fucks you and he loves it every time. sometimes he makes gojo watch the two of you too

but he also loves it when you take two cocks in you, him up your pussy bc youre his, first and foremost, while satoru takes your ass.

regarding sex, suguru likes it when you take the reins to pleasure yourself. he gets off seeing you use him as ive mentioned in the previous drabble, and just like the denial / overstim part, loves to see your mouth contort into an ‘o’ along with your rolled back eyes. bounce on his dick, ride his face, slobber over his cock while you rub your clit, he fuckin loves it

not big on the daddy thing either, but it depends on his mood tbh. im not sure how that works but he likes when you use it when youre deep in subspace and just going limp as he fucks you and all can manage is moaning out small “daddy’s” helplessly

warnings for drabble: gojo watches, sub!gojo, voyeurism, insinuation of stsg, exhibitionism, m! masturbation, overstimulation, semi-public sex, oral (f and slight m receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, pet names, praise, cum eating, implied threesome + 2nd round

“suguru— no, f-fuck, they’re gonna hear!” you muffle your moans with your mouth, hand clasped tight onto your lips while you’re pressed up against the door. you’ve been like this for three orgasms already, legs shaking while you struggle to keep your knees from buckling under you. it’s like geto doesn’t even care how the office door is so thin, occasional thumps occurring from how geto pushes you against the wood. the workers outside obviously know what’s going on, but they don’t dare say a word.

“let me enjoy this, princess,” he manages to say quickly before going back to slurping up your juices, but while you think your situation is bad, you’re glancing over to gojo in geto’s office chair, hand stroking his cock languidly, but every so often you can see how satoru thrusts his hips into the air, needing anything but his own hand right now. “and keep eye contact with satoru.”

geto purrs out his best friend’s name, pulling your hips towards his relentless mouth as your arousal drips down your inner thighs and legs. across you, there’s gojo who looks like he wants to touch the both of you so terribly, but is only subjected to tearful eyes and his warm hand that doesn’t compare to suguru’s or your mouth, little pants leaving his mouth. he watches as you grind your hips into his best friend’s mouth, the obscene noises of your sopping wet cunt makes him twitch in his hand.

“babygirl… suguru…” he whines out, sweat dripping down his body at the stuffiness of the office while the slick noises of him stroking his length reverberates throughout the room. geto hums at his begging voice, but only sucks on your clit harder and it makes you moan out, hands getting lost in his long black hair while your eyes are threatening to roll to the back of your head. the only ground you have now is satoru’s bright blue ones, a shiver going through you when he whimpers out your name

“you’re doing so well, s-satoru… shit,” you’re calling out to the white-haired male who locks eyes with you, both turned on at such a sight: the sweaty hair stuck to your face and your beautiful sounds, the flush on gojo’s cheeks and his angry tip that’s leaking pre-cum. “suguruu… oh my god—”

“yeah?” he speaks in between slobbering all over your pussy, “so fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” flicking and playing with your puffy, sensitive clit with his tongue until you hunch over him on a particular lick, the leg over his shoulder squeezing him so much that it cramps and you’re cumming suddenly and you’re forgetting about satoru and everyone outside. your head slams so hard against the door that you get a little lightheaded, but the crashing of your fourth orgasm is all you can fixate on as your body shudders and incessant whines escape your mouth.

“my favourite meal of the day,” geto smiles from below you and grins when you mumble out how it’s more of his fourth meal of the day, taking a hand from his hair before he places a kiss on the back of it and spares a glance towards gojo who’s close to crying.

with a nod from suguru, you’re walking on shaky legs before kneeling before satoru, wrapping your lips ’round his tip and that’s all it takes for him to cum, shooting ropes upon ropes of hot semen down your throat as you stroke his base. the other is bucking his hips into your mouth at the sensitivity, moaning out both your name and suguru’s.

“attagirl.” you slyly smile at the praise that befalls on your ears before showing both of them the cum that’s left on your tongue, already excited for the next round.

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rafedarling · 13 days

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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬

pairing: drew starkey x reader

summary: you and drew have been best friends since childhood, sharing everything-until drew's acting career takes off. as odessa enters drew's life and their on-screen chemistry blurs the lines of their friendship, you feel the deepening void between you and the boy you once knew. invited to a family bbq at the starkey, you hope to reconnect with drew. however, you soon find yourself on the sidelines, watching as odessa captures all of drew's attention. a devastating scene in ‘hellraiser’—a film that stars both drew and odessa-sends you spiraling into the realization that drew may never see you the way you see him. over the course of a painful night and the aftermath, long-buried emotions rise to the surface, culminating in a heart-wrenching confrontation. will drew finally realize what you mean to him, or will you be forced to let him go for good? | words count: 7,3k (sorry!!!)

warning(s): NO HATES TOWARD ODESSA OR ANY ACTORS/ FRIENDS OF DREW! english is not my native language. severe emotional turmoil, themes of unrequited love, detailed internal conflict, intense feelings of isolation, push-and-pull dynamics, emotional abandonment, moments of painful rejection, and slow-burning angst.

au: like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. i actually listen to THIS SONG while writing this, discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @drewstarkeys-world @maybankslover @akobx @rubixgsworld @enjoymyloves @xoxohoneymoongirl @rafecameroncoke @httpsdrewstarkey @tiaamberxx @wxn-drlst @ratatioulle @zizuras @flvredcas @abrmscline @noobmazter69 @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry

The summers were always the best part of your childhood. You and Drew Starkey had been practically inseparable since you were six years old, running through the wide backyard of the Starkey home, laughing until your stomach hurt and your lungs ached from the chase. Your families were close—so close that your mothers, Jodi and your mom, would joke that you and Drew were "destined for each other."

"Y/N and Joseph," Jodi would say with a smile as she watched the two of you playing in the grass. "They’re going to get married someday. I’ve always known."

Your mother would laugh, glancing over at you, sweaty and carefree as you chased Drew through the sprinklers. "I’d be happy with that, Jodi," she’d reply, "It would be perfect."

You didn’t think much of it then. To you, Drew was just Drew—your best friend, the boy who pulled you out of the creek when you fell in one summer and got scraped knees trying to rescue you. You couldn’t imagine life without him, but back then, you were still young. The idea of growing up and getting married seemed like something distant, almost laughable.

One summer, when you were about six, you had a moment that defined your bond. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden light over the Starkey backyard. You and Drew were sprawled on the grass after an afternoon of playing tag, breathing hard but smiling at each other.

“Joseph,” you began, turning your head toward him as you lay beside him, “can I call you something else? Like a nickname?”

Drew raised an eyebrow and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “Like what?”

“I don’t know... Drew? It sounds cooler.”

He blinked, then laughed, as though the idea of you giving him a special name was the best thing he had heard all day. “Sure,” he said, grinning. “Call me Drew.”

From that day on, the name stuck. Only you called him that, while the rest of the world called him Joseph. It was your little secret, a bond that made you feel like you shared something special. And you did.

Every summer, you counted down the days until you could visit the Starkey family. It was tradition—long, lazy afternoons spent playing outside, followed by evenings watching the stars come out. The best part, though, was the mornings.

Drew knew how much you loved watching the sunrise. Each summer, no matter how early it was, he would wake up with you before dawn, just so the two of you could sit on the hill behind the house and watch the sky change from dark blue to shades of pink, orange, and gold.

“Think we’ll always do this?” you had asked one morning, your knees pulled to your chest as the horizon turned golden.

Drew looked at you, the early morning light reflecting in his eyes. “Yeah,” he had said simply. “We’ll always be friends.”

At that moment, as the sun bathed you both in warmth, you believed him with all your heart.

When you were twelve, your family made the big move to Asheville, North Carolina, to be closer to the Starkeys. At first, it was a dream come true—you’d see Drew year-round now, not just in the summers. But as exciting as the move was, it came with its own challenges. A new school, new classmates, and a feeling of unfamiliarity that settled deep in your bones.

You weren’t exactly the social butterfly Drew was. He thrived in new environments, easily making friends with his magnetic personality. He was taller than most boys his age, athletic, and undeniably charming. He played basketball, acted in the school plays, and it seemed like everyone was drawn to him. You, on the other hand, were quieter, more reserved. Drew was your anchor, the one person who made you feel like you belonged.

Despite being in different classes, Drew always made time for you. He’d wait for you after school, leaning against the fence near the basketball courts, a crooked smile on his face as he waved you over.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he’d tease. “I’ve got snacks for us before practice.”

It became a routine—him waiting for you, you showing up at his basketball practices with snacks or a drink to keep him going. Sometimes, you’d sit on the bleachers, watching him run drills, marveling at how easily he seemed to fit into this new world. You were happy for him, of course, but there was always a small, nagging feeling inside you, something that whispered that you were being left behind.

You brushed it off. After all, Drew was still Drew—your best friend, the boy who stood up for you when some kids at school made fun of your appearance. You’d never forget the day one of Drew’s classmates, a girl from the drama club, sneered at you during lunch.

“How can someone like you even be friends with Joseph Starkey?” she had said, her voice dripping with disdain.

You had felt a hot flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, your fists clenching at your sides. But before you could respond, Drew had appeared out of nowhere, stepping in front of you protectively.

“What did you just say?” Drew’s voice was low, dangerous, his eyes narrowing at the girl.

The girl faltered, shrinking under his glare. “I— I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t get to talk to her like that,” Drew snapped, his voice ice-cold. “If I ever hear you say something like that again, you’ll regret it.”

The girl had stammered an apology before scurrying away, and Drew had turned to you with a reassuring smile, as if nothing had happened.

“Don’t listen to people like her,” he had said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You’re worth so much more than their words.”

From that day on, you never doubted that Drew had your back. He was your protector, your confidant, the one person who made you feel safe in a world that often felt overwhelming.

When Drew turned seventeen, he became more serious about his future. You spent countless nights together, talking about his dreams, about how he wanted to pursue acting full-time after high school. It was clear to you that he had the passion, the drive, and the talent to make it big.

The day Drew landed his first acting role was a day you’d never forget. You were sitting in your living room when Drew burst through the front door, grinning from ear to ear.

“Y/N! I got the part!” he shouted, holding up a script in triumph. “I actually got the part!”

Your heart soared with pride as you jumped up from the couch, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Drew, that’s amazing! I knew you’d do it!”

The two of you celebrated that night, just the two of you. Drew asked you to help him practice his lines, and for hours, you sat on the floor of your living room, reading through the script with him. He was nervous, pacing back and forth as he recited his lines, but you were there, steady and patient, helping him work through every scene.

Before his first day on set, Drew had come to you, his usual confidence replaced with anxiety. “What if I mess up?” he had asked, his voice wavering. “What if I’m not good enough?”

You had smiled softly, reaching into your bag and pulling out a small, crocheted keychain—a little dog with floppy ears that you had made yourself. “Here,” you said, handing it to him. “Consider this your good luck charm. Keep it with you, and I promise you’ll be fine.”

Drew had chuckled, pocketing the keychain with a fond smile. “Thanks, sunshine. I’ll keep it with me, always.”

That first role was just the beginning. After high school, Drew went off to college to study acting, and though the distance was hard, you made sure to keep in touch. Late-night phone calls, long text conversations—Drew made sure you were still part of his life, even from miles away.

And when he landed his breakout role on the Netflix series Outer Banks, you were the first person he called.

“Y/N! Guess what?” Drew’s voice had crackled through the phone, filled with excitement. “I got a role on a Netflix show! Can you believe it?”

Your heart had swelled with pride, even as a small, selfish part of you wondered what this meant for your friendship. “Drew, that’s incredible! I’m so proud of you!”

You meant every word, but as Drew’s career took off, the distance between you began to grow—not just physically, but emotionally. His life was changing, and you weren’t sure if you still had a place in it.

The first time Drew mentioned Odessa A’zion, you hadn’t thought much of it. She was a fellow actor on Outer Banks, and Drew had talked about how they had become fast friends on set. But as time passed, it became clear that Odessa was more than just a friend to Drew—she was someone important to him.

At first, you tried to brush off the feeling of unease that settled in your chest every time Drew talked about her. After all, he was bound to make new friends in the industry. But it became harder to ignore the way he talked about Odessa—the way his eyes lit up when he mentioned her name, the way she seemed to occupy so much of his attention.

The first time you met Odessa was at Drew’s birthday party. He had flown back to North Carolina to celebrate with friends and family, and you were excited to see him in person after months of only talking through texts and phone calls.

When you arrived at the restaurant, your heart raced with anticipation. It had been so long since you’d seen Drew, and part of you hoped that things would feel just like they used to. But as soon as you walked in, you saw him sitting with Odessa.

They were deep in conversation, laughing together as if they were the only two people in the room. You felt a pang of jealousy, something you hadn’t expected. Drew had always been your person, your best friend. But now, watching him with Odessa, it felt like he was slipping away.

When Drew finally noticed you, his face lit up with a smile. “Y/N!” he called out, standing up to wrap you in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

You hugged him back, but something felt off. The easy familiarity that had always existed between you was strained, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

Odessa greeted you with a polite smile, introducing herself, but the way she looked at Drew—like he was the center of her universe—only made the knot in your stomach tighten.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Drew introduced you to his castmates, and while everyone was friendly, you couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. Drew and Odessa were inseparable, their laughter filling the room as they shared inside jokes you weren’t part of.

Later that night, as the party began to wind down, Drew pulled you aside. “I need to take Odessa home,” he explained, his voice apologetic. “She had a little too much to drink.”

You forced a smile, even as your heart sank. “Yeah, of course. Go ahead.”

As you watched them leave together, something inside you shifted. You couldn’t ignore it anymore—the distance between you and Drew wasn’t just physical. It was emotional. And it hurt more than you were willing to admit.

Months passed, and while you and Drew still kept in touch, things weren’t the same. The texts were shorter, the phone calls less frequent, and every time you tried to bring up something personal, something about you, the conversation somehow always shifted back to Odessa or Drew’s new life in Los Angeles. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about his success—you were proud of him—but it hurt to feel like an afterthought, someone on the periphery of his increasingly glamorous life.

When Drew invited you to his family’s annual BBQ, you hesitated. Part of you wanted to turn down the invitation, not wanting to face him and Odessa again. But the other part of you—the part that still longed for the closeness you once shared—couldn’t say no. This was the Starkey house, the place that had always felt like a second home to you, the place where your friendship with Drew had blossomed.

The afternoon sun was just beginning to set as you arrived at the familiar Starkey home. The front porch was adorned with string lights, and the smell of grilled burgers wafted through the air, mixing with the sound of laughter from the backyard. It should’ve felt like a homecoming, but instead, all you felt was a growing sense of unease.

As you stepped into the backyard, the knot in your stomach tightened. Drew was there, sitting beside Odessa, his arm casually draped along the back of her chair. They were laughing, their heads close together as if they were sharing some private joke. For a moment, it was like watching strangers—people you knew but didn’t recognize anymore.

Before you could retreat, McKayla spotted you. “Y/N!” she called out, running over with a grin. Her hug was warm, and it reminded you of why you had come. The Starkeys were still like family, even if your relationship with Drew had changed.

“I missed you so much!” McKayla said, pulling back to look at you with a beaming smile. “It’s been forever.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, your smile softening as you hugged her again. If anything, McKayla had always made you feel welcome, like you were still an important part of their family.

Just as McKayla let go, Todd walked over, his familiar grin lighting up his face. “There’s my favorite little girl!” he boomed, wrapping you in one of his signature bear hugs. “How’ve you been, Y/N?”

“I’ve been good, Todd,” you said, your voice a little quieter now. “How about you?”

“Oh, you know, keeping busy,” Todd replied, his tone warm. “We’ve missed you around here, you know. This place isn’t the same without you.”

Jodi joined the group, pulling you into a soft hug. “Y/N, it’s so good to see you again,” she said, her smile kind but tinged with something deeper—an understanding, perhaps, of the distance that had grown between you and her son. “How are your parents?”

“They’re good,” you answered. “They’re actually in Rome right now, celebrating their 35th anniversary.”

“Ah, Rome,” Jodi sighed wistfully. “Lucky them. They always did know how to celebrate big.”

You smiled at the familiarity of their banter, grateful for their warmth, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tightening in your chest. Every few minutes, your eyes would drift back to Drew and Odessa. The easy way they sat together, the way Drew’s hand occasionally brushed her arm as he spoke—it was hard to ignore. Even harder to accept.

“Let’s get you something to drink,” McKayla suggested, sensing your unease and pulling you away from the crowd. As you followed her inside, you passed Drew and Odessa. Drew glanced up at you, a smile briefly crossing his face.

“Hey, Y/N! Glad you could make it,” Drew said, his tone casual, but there was a distance in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, even though your heart ached.

You could feel Odessa’s eyes on you, though her smile was polite. “Nice to see you again,” she added, her tone friendly but not warm. You nodded, but the knot in your chest tightened as the conversation shifted back to something between her and Drew.

As the night progressed, Drew suggested watching Hellraiser—the movie he and Odessa had filmed together. It was the project he had talked about non-stop for months, and while you had been happy for him, you had avoided watching it. The idea of seeing Drew and Odessa on screen together, so intimately connected, made you uneasy.

“I think you’ll like it,” Drew said as the group settled in front of the outdoor screen. “It’s one of my favorite projects.”

You sat between McKayla and Todd, grateful for the distance between you and Drew, but as the opening credits rolled, the familiar knot in your stomach returned.

At first, you tried to focus on the movie, telling yourself it was just another role for Drew—just a job, nothing more. But as the film progressed, your discomfort grew. Drew’s character, Trevor, and Odessa’s character, Riley, had an undeniable chemistry, one that felt far too real. Every glance, every touch between them on screen felt intimate, too personal.

And then the first love scene played out.

You had prepared yourself for it, but nothing could have braced you for how raw it felt to watch Drew and Odessa in such a vulnerable, intimate moment. The room around you seemed to fade, and all you could focus on was the way Drew looked at her on screen, the way their bodies intertwined in a way that felt too real to be acting.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you fought to keep your expression neutral, but the weight in your chest was growing unbearable. You hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to see him like this, to be confronted with the reality of how much you were no longer a part of his life.

A lump formed in your throat as you forced yourself to stay seated, but when the second love scene began, you couldn’t take it anymore. The emotions you had been pushing down for months suddenly overwhelmed you, and without a word, you stood up, muttering a quick excuse to McKayla before making your way to the front porch.

As soon as you were outside, you collapsed onto the porch steps, gasping for air as the tears finally spilled over. You had been trying so hard to keep it together, but seeing Drew and Odessa like that—so close, so connected—had broken something inside you.

“Y/N?”

McKayla’s voice was soft, and you quickly wiped at your eyes as she stepped outside, sitting down beside you. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just sat with you in the quiet, the sound of the movie still playing faintly in the background.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked, her voice filled with concern.

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I don’t think I can do this, McKayla. Watching them together... it’s too much.”

McKayla sighed, her brow furrowing in sympathy. “I get it, Y/N. It’s hard. But you have to talk to him. He doesn’t know how much you’re hurting.”

“I don’t think he even cares,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “He’s so wrapped up in Odessa and his career... I don’t think I matter to him anymore.”

McKayla shook her head firmly, turning to face you fully. “That’s not true, Y/N. I know my brother. He still cares about you—he’s just blind to everything right now. But you need to tell him how you feel. You deserve that.”

You wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” McKayla said softly, her hand resting on your shoulder. “You’ve been there for him through everything, Y/N. He needs to understand how much you’re hurting.”

You nodded, but the thought of confronting Drew still terrified you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face him, to lay everything out on the table. But one thing was clear—you couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay. You couldn’t keep carrying this hurt on your own.

The next morning, you woke up with the same heavy feeling in your chest. You had tossed and turned all night, replaying the movie over and over in your mind, each scene only deepening the ache in your heart. You needed to leave. As much as you loved the Starkeys, being here—being around Drew and Odessa—was too painful.

You packed your bags quietly, leaving a note for McKayla and Todd, thanking them for their hospitality. Slipping out of the house before anyone else woke up, you drove home, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions.

Back at the Starkey house, McKayla sat at the kitchen table with Todd, sipping her coffee as the morning sunlight streamed through the windows.

“She left early,” McKayla said quietly, setting her mug down with a frown. “She didn’t say goodbye.”

Todd looked up from his newspaper, his brow furrowed. “That doesn’t sound like her. Did something happen?”

McKayla sighed, glancing out the window. “I think things are worse than we thought. Y/N... she’s been really struggling, Dad. Watching Drew and Odessa together... it’s been breaking her heart.”

Todd’s face softened with understanding, his eyes clouded with concern. “She’s been a part of this family for so long. I hate to think she’s feeling left out.”

Before McKayla could respond, Drew wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes groggily. “Morning,” he mumbled, heading straight for the coffee pot. But when he noticed the tension in the room, he paused, frowning.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between McKayla and Todd.

McKayla exchanged a glance with her father before turning to Drew. “Y/N left early this morning,” she said, her voice heavy with worry. “She didn’t say goodbye.”

Drew’s frown deepened, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What? Why?”

Todd sighed, folding his newspaper as he looked at his son. “I think you know why, Drew. Y/N’s been feeling like you’ve pushed her aside for a long time now. Last night... watching you and Odessa on screen... it was too much for her.”

Drew paled, guilt washing over his face. “What? I— I didn’t mean to—” He trailed off, his voice cracking with emotion.

McKayla crossed her arms, her tone gentle but firm. “Drew, she’s been there for you through everything. But you’ve been so caught up in your own life that you didn’t realize how much you were hurting her.”

Drew’s face fell, the weight of his sister’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had known something was wrong between you two, but he hadn’t realized how deep the hurt ran.

“I need to fix this,” Drew muttered, setting down his coffee and running a hand through his hair. Without another word, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, determination written all over his face.

You weren’t expecting Drew to show up at your door. After the overwhelming emotions of the previous night, all you wanted was some distance—some space to breathe, to think. The moment you opened the door and saw Drew standing on your porch, his expression filled with a mix of regret and urgency, your heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

“Y/N,” Drew began, his voice soft but strained. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

You hesitated for a moment, gripping the edge of the door, your mind torn between letting him in and closing the door on everything you’d been feeling. Part of you wanted to push him away—to protect yourself from the pain that had been eating away at you for so long. But another part of you—a much deeper part—wanted answers. Needed them.

With a reluctant sigh, you stepped back and motioned for Drew to come in.

He walked into your living room, the air thick with tension. As you closed the door behind him, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looked around, as though searching for something familiar to hold on to. His eyes briefly landed on a photo of the two of you from years ago, sitting on the mantle—a reminder of better times, of the friendship that had once been your anchor.

Drew stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his eyes downcast. It was clear that he was struggling to find the right words, but the silence between you was too much to bear.

“You left without saying goodbye,” Drew finally said, his voice almost a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his tone, something you hadn’t heard from him in a long time.

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Yeah, I did. I couldn’t stay, Drew.”

He glanced up at you, his eyes filled with guilt. “Why? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you looked away. “Talk to you? Drew, when have we really talked lately? Every conversation we’ve had for months has been about Odessa or your career. You barely even notice I’m there anymore.”

Drew flinched at your words, the weight of them hitting him hard. “That’s not true, Y/N. I care about you—I’ve always cared.”

“Really?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it. Do you even realize how long I’ve been feeling like this? How long I’ve been watching you slip away, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t losing you?”

Drew opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. The dam of emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke, and the words came tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Do you know how hard it’s been, Drew? To sit on the sidelines, watching you live this new life, while I feel like I’m not even part of it anymore? I’ve stood by you through everything—every audition, every role, every milestone—and when it was my turn, when it was something important to me, you weren’t there.”

Your voice cracked as you continued, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. “You missed my graduation, Drew. Do you know how much that hurt? You promised you’d be there, and you didn’t show up. I waited for you. I waited for you because I thought, ‘This is Drew. He’ll come. He’ll be there for me like I’ve always been there for him.’ But you didn’t. And when you said you’d make it up to me, I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d have one night where it would just be the two of us, like old times. But you brought her.”

Drew’s face fell, his expression filled with regret. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“You didn’t realize because you never asked,” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the weight of all the unspoken pain. “You were so caught up in your own world, in your new life with Odessa, that you didn’t even notice I was falling apart.”

Drew’s eyes were filled with anguish, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did,” you said, your voice cracking with the weight of those words. “You hurt me, Drew. Every time I saw you with her, every time you talked about her like she was the only thing that mattered to you, it felt like a knife in my chest. And I tried to be okay with it. I tried to tell myself that you deserved to be happy, that you deserved to have someone who understood your world. But it didn’t stop the pain.”

Drew took a step closer to you, his hands trembling as he reached out, but he stopped short, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t see it. I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. I was selfish, Y/N. I got caught up in everything—my career, Odessa—and I didn’t stop to think about how it was affecting you. And I hate myself for that.”

You wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the hurt still sat heavy in your chest. “You forgot me,” you whispered, the words so quiet you weren’t sure if he even heard them. “I was there for you through everything, and when I needed you, you forgot me.”

Drew’s face contorted with guilt and pain, and he stepped closer, his voice pleading. “I didn’t forget you, Y/N. I swear, I didn’t. I just... I got lost. I let everything else consume me, and I pushed you away without even realizing it. But I never stopped caring about you. I never stopped needing you in my life.”

You met his gaze, your heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his eyes. Part of you wanted to believe him—to believe that he hadn’t meant to hurt you, that he was still the same Drew you had always known. But the pain was still too fresh, too raw.

“You didn’t need me, Drew,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You needed her. Every time I saw you, it was like I was just... there. Like I was some ghost from your past, watching as you built a new life without me.”

Drew shook his head, his voice breaking. “No. No, that’s not true. Odessa was just... she was just a friend. I never saw her as anything more. But you—I’ve always seen you. You’ve always been more than just a friend to me.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. “What are you saying, Drew?”

“I’m saying that I love you, Y/N,” Drew said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long, but I was too blind to see it. Too blind to realize how much I was hurting you by pushing you away. But it’s always been you. It’s always been you, and I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You stared at him, your heart racing, your mind struggling to process what he had just said. “Don’t say that, Drew. Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I do mean it,” Drew insisted, stepping closer to you. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. I let everything else get in the way, and I lost sight of what really mattered. But you—you’re what matters. You’ve always been the one who’s mattered the most to me.”

Tears filled your eyes once again, your heart warring with your mind. You had waited so long to hear those words, but now that they were finally being spoken, you didn’t know what to do with them.

“How can I believe you?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “How can I believe that you won’t hurt me again? That you won’t forget me the next time something else comes along?”

Drew’s eyes filled with desperation as he reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. “I won’t forget you. I swear, Y/N, I won’t. I’ve already hurt you once, and I will never make that mistake again. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re the most important person to me. Just... please, give me another chance.”

You closed your eyes, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go of the hurt and let Drew back into your life. But trust wasn’t something that could be rebuilt overnight.

“I need time,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I need time to heal, to figure out if I can really trust you again.”

Drew nodded, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. “I understand. I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as it takes, Y/N. Just please... don’t shut me out completely.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you saw the Drew you had always known—the Drew who had stood by your side through everything, who had been your rock when the world felt too heavy.

“I won’t shut you out,” you said softly, your heart aching with the weight of it all. “But this... it’s going to take time.”

Drew nodded again, his relief palpable as he let out a shaky breath. “I’ll be here. No matter how long it takes.”

With that, Drew slowly stepped back, giving you the space you needed. The air between you was still heavy with unresolved emotions, but for the first time in months, there was a glimmer of hope. A possibility that maybe, just maybe, things could be repaired.

As Drew turned to leave, he glanced back at you, his voice soft but filled with quiet determination. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m not going to give up on us.”

You watched him go, your heart conflicted but not as heavy as it had been before. There was still so much to work through, but for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you and Drew had a chance to find your way back to each other.

The days after the confrontation felt different. Lighter, but still uncertain. The emotional heaviness lingered between you and Drew, but there was something else now—a shared understanding that things needed time, that rushing back into the past wasn’t an option.

Drew kept his word. He didn’t push you, didn’t try to force himself back into your life as if nothing had happened. Instead, he started with small gestures—things that reminded you of the Drew you had known before everything changed.

Each morning, you woke up to a text from Drew. Simple things, like: "I saw the sunrise today and thought of you. Miss those mornings." Or, "Found an old photo of us. Remember this day?" They were small messages, but they carried the weight of years of shared history and memories you had thought were forgotten.

One evening, about a week after the confrontation, Drew showed up at your door with coffee in hand. The sight of him standing there with your favorite caramel macchiato, looking uncertain but hopeful, stirred something inside you.

“I thought you could use this,” Drew said, offering a small smile. “And I... was hoping we could talk. Just for a little while.”

You hesitated, but then nodded, stepping aside to let him in. Drew walked into your living room, his movements tentative, like he wasn’t sure where he stood anymore.

As you sat together on the couch, sipping your coffee, the silence between you was less suffocating than before. There was still a lot to work through, but at least the distance wasn’t unbearable. Drew glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the framed photo of the two of you from years ago, taken on a family trip to the beach. The both of you were grinning wildly, arms around each other, as if nothing in the world could break your bond.

“I remember that day,” Drew said quietly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “We spent hours building a sandcastle. It collapsed after five minutes, but we didn’t care. We thought it was the best thing ever.”

You chuckled softly, the memory warming something inside you. “Yeah, we were so proud of it.”

Drew shifted in his seat, his expression turning more serious. “I miss those days, Y/N. I miss us. I know I messed up, and I know it’ll take time, but... I want to get back to that.”

You turned to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. For so long, you had felt like you had lost Drew—the Drew who had been your best friend, your confidant, the person who knew you better than anyone. But now, sitting here with him, you realized that maybe he hadn’t been lost forever. Maybe he was still there, waiting for you to let him back in.

“I miss it too,” you admitted, your voice soft but full of emotion. “But... I need time, Drew. This isn’t something that can be fixed overnight.”

“I know,” Drew said, nodding. “And I’m not going to rush you. I’ll take as much time as you need.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could be different this time. Maybe you could rebuild what had been broken.

The weeks that followed were a slow process of healing and reconnection. Drew made an effort—an effort you hadn’t seen from him in months. He started texting you every morning, checking in to see how your day was going. The texts weren’t long or overly sentimental, but they were consistent. They were proof that he was thinking about you, even in the midst of his busy schedule.

Some days, the texts were simple:

"How’s work going? Thought of you when I passed by the old park today."

Other days, they carried a heavier weight:

"I’m sorry again, Y/N. For everything. I just want you to know that I’m still here."

And as time passed, you found yourself replying more. The walls you had built up around your heart began to slowly crumble, brick by brick. Drew wasn’t just making promises—he was showing you that he meant them. He wasn’t rushing you or pushing for more than you were ready to give. He was patient, and that patience made all the difference.

One afternoon, Drew surprised you by inviting you to lunch at the café you both used to frequent when you were younger. It had been years since you’d been there together, but as you sat across from each other, sipping coffee and talking about nothing in particular, it felt like you were slowly returning to a version of yourselves that had been lost.

The conversations were lighter, more comfortable. Drew listened intently when you talked about work, your hobbies, the things that had filled your life in the time you had drifted apart. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t competing with Odessa or his career for his attention. Drew was fully present, and that made all the difference.

A few weeks later, Drew showed up at your door with something unexpected—a small gift bag in hand, looking both nervous and hopeful.

“I, uh, thought I’d bring this over,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know it’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious, and took the bag from him. Inside was a small journal, the cover embossed with the words “For Every Sunrise.” Your breath caught in your throat as you pulled it out, your fingers tracing the delicate lettering.

“I know how much you love watching the sunrise,” Drew explained, his voice soft. “I thought maybe... you could use this to write down your thoughts. Or even just to keep track of the sunrises you’ve seen.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness behind the gift. Drew had always known how much sunrises meant to you—those quiet moments when the world was still, when everything felt possible. And now, here he was, reminding you of those moments in a way that felt so personal, so deeply connected to the history you shared.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

Drew smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I’m glad you like it.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were being seen. Not just as someone in Drew’s life, but as someone important. Someone who mattered.

As the weeks turned into months, you and Drew continued to rebuild your relationship—slowly, carefully. There were still moments of doubt, moments when the hurt resurfaced and threatened to pull you back into the past. But Drew was patient. He never rushed you, never pushed you to move faster than you were ready for. Instead, he met you where you were, showing up for you in the ways that mattered most.

One day, Drew suggested a walk through the old park you used to visit as kids. It had been years since you had walked those paths together, but as you strolled through the park, side by side, it felt like you were reclaiming a piece of the past that had been lost.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” Drew said as you walked, his voice quiet but steady. “About how much we’ve been through together.”

You glanced over at him, your heart tightening at the vulnerability in his voice. “Yeah, me too.”

Drew stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His eyes were filled with a kind of determination you hadn’t seen in a long time. “I don’t want to take you for granted anymore, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about everything, and I know I hurt you. I know it’s going to take time to earn back your trust, but I want to be the person you can count on again. The person you deserve.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you—it was different now. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. He meant every word.

“I want that too,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I need to know that this time... this time, it’s real.”

“It is,” Drew promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear, Y/N, it’s real.”

And in that moment, as the sun began to set behind the trees, casting a golden glow over the park, you knew that maybe—just maybe—you and Drew were finally on the right path. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there were still wounds that needed time to heal, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could trust him again. Trust that he wasn’t going to let you down.

Months passed, and the slow process of rebuilding trust continued. Drew didn’t let up on his efforts—he made time for you, prioritized you, and showed you in small, meaningful ways that he was committed to repairing the damage that had been done.

The two of you began to fall back into an easy rhythm. Movie nights, long conversations over coffee, quiet walks through the park—it was like rediscovering an old friendship, but with the added depth of everything you had been through. The love you had for each other was still there, but now, it was stronger, more resilient.

One evening, Drew invited you to his house for dinner. It was just the two of you, and as you sat together on the back porch, watching the sunset, you felt a sense of peace settle over you—a peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the future,” Drew said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

You turned to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Yeah? What about it?”

Drew’s eyes softened as he reached out and took your hand, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. “About us. About what we want.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening at the intensity of his gaze. “And what do you want, Drew?”

“I want you,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want you in my life, in every way. I don’t want to lose you again, Y/N. I love you. I always have.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words washed over you. It had taken so long to get to this point, to rebuild what had been broken, but now, sitting here with Drew, you knew that it had all been worth it.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I don’t want to lose you either.”

Drew smiled, his eyes filled with relief and happiness. “Then let’s not waste any more time. Let’s be together.”

And as he leaned in to kiss you, the weight of all the past hurt and pain seemed to fade away, leaving only the promise of a future—together.

THE END!!

i was thinking about writing a drabbles for this, hehe maybe their future together, if you have any suggestion, ask box are always open!! and i hope you all enjoy this imagine 🖤

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey angst

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0mg-bird · 24 days

Text

Late Night ~ J. Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Jake had gotten into an intense argument before he went off to work, now it was night fall and he comes home late.

Warnings: language, angry Jake, fluff at the end.

Never go to bed angry. That’s what everyone tells you when you’re engaged. Hold each other in the mornings, kiss each other good night, go out on dates, don’t have boring sex, keep showing up for one another. That’s what all the old ladies say in public when they see the ring.

Here you are now though, staring at that rock on your finger and not listening to any of that advice.

You paced around your home for a while, you made dinner, sat at the table and waited. Your food got cold. You left Jake a plate in the microwave, then cleaned up. You watched tv for a while, the hour of his usual arrival came and went, time kept ticking on. You took a shower, you put on your silk nightgown, you brushed and blow dried your hair and then you sat in bed, getting more and more frustrated.

Where was he?

The fight was ugly, Jake canceled plans yet again and you were overly frustrated. He’s missed dinners, changed multiple plans of going out with your shared friends. He wasn’t in bed most mornings anymore because he wanted to get his day started earlier for work. You were very understanding at first, he was up for a promotion, his job is stressful enough and you understood his need to lighten his load. That was a month ago. He still skipped out on plans, he wouldn’t even discuss a date for the wedding. Slowly but surely, you were losing your mind, your frustration finally spilled out in the morning when Jake said he was going out with the squad after work, making you have to re think your idea of setting up a romantic night in.

It was a perfectly good Friday night and your fiancé was spending it without you.

He had asked you why you were being moody, you told him you were fine but he grew irritated at your irritation. Soon the two of you were calling each other ridiculous and he was slamming the door shut behind him on his way out.

You got in bed and laid on your side, huffing. There’s the distinct sound of his key turning in the front door, you can hear him coming down the hall and the soft creak of the bedroom door opening. He knows you’re not asleep, but you don’t turn to face him as he stands in the doorway.

He comes into the room, shuts the door and goes to his side of the closet. He undresses, goes into the bathroom for a little bit to wash his face and brush his teeth.

“It’s really late, Jake.” You simply say as he comes back out.

He nods even though you can’t see him. “I know, sorry.” He says, then comes to your side of the bed, standing, looking down at you. You don’t meet his gaze, he can clearly see the irritation on your face. “You’re just not even gonna look at me?” He asks in a growing defense.

You finally look into those green eyes you once fell for. “I’m tired, just come to bed.”

“Tired or just still pissed at me?”

So this was the game he wanted to play.

You adjust to sit up, the covers sliding onto your lap. “Both, actually.”

He sighs, taking a seat at the end of the bed, putting a safe distance between the two of you. “The fight this morning shouldn’t have happened.” He says.

“No, it shouldn’t have.” You agree. “And you should’ve called and told me you were going to be late. Actually, you shouldn’t have gone out at all.”

Jake’s brows crease together, you know his features well enough to know he’s slowly growing irritated. “I needed a little space, especially after you created a mess this morning.”

He was an idiot with words.

You take a second to gather your nerves. “I cannot believe you right now. I’m sorry if I blew up at you, Jake, but I didn’t know what to do when you blew me off yet again. Seriously, what is your deal?” You ask.

“My deal?” He scoffs. “I have no ‘deal’. You’re the one who’s making problems where they don’t need to be.”

At his words, you shove the covers completely off of you. Your feet plant on the floor and you put a significantly more distance between you. Jake watches you slowly pace.

“I think I’ve officially lost my mind.” You say, nodding your head. “That has to be the case, right? I’m just a problem starter, I’m too suffocating, just someone you need space from?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He states after realizing how bad it sounds. “It just gets a little hard when you’re being too demanding.”

You pause, looking at him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. This was Jake, your Jake. The man sitting in front of you, calling you demanding, was the same man who promised you a great future.

“Tell me how I’m being demanding.” You say. “Am I too much when I ask to eat dinner with you? Is it too overbearing when I just need a night with no interruption, just one night where you’re not focused on work or going out with your squad?”

He stands now too. “You make it sound easy.”

“Because it can be!” You snap. “It can be easy but you aren’t trying! Jake, I need you to try.”

He runs his hand through his hair, groaning before lashing out in his own way. “I am trying, for fuck sakes! Do you honestly know how hard it is to try and balance everything?” His tone is rough and it startles you. You stand, looking up at him. He doesn’t let you get a next word in, he just continues. “So I miss out on a few dinners, there are bigger things I need to deal with.”

You scoff, huffing. “A few dinners? Jake, you’ve been treating me like I’m your casual girlfriend and not the woman you’re marrying. Hell, who knows if we’re even getting married at this point, it’s like I’m torturing you when I talk about it.”

“Of course we’re getting married.” He rolls his eyes, thinking you’re being overly dramatic.

“You could’ve fooled me.” You say, arms crossed over your chest. “Jake, I am your partner, that means something.”

“I know that! I know it means something, you think I don’t feel like shit already? I do, trust me, I know how fucked up I’ve been.” Jake snaps, tone utterly deep and it rumbles from his throat.

“Then why do you do it?” You ask, voice wavering. You didn’t want to cry, but it felt like your heart was breaking.

He clenched his jaw. “I don’t know what else to do, you don’t understand.”

“I could understand if you’d just fucking talk to me!”

You weren’t a very loud person, you were always very calm and collected, but standing in your bedroom, looking at your fiancé who was being far too confusing, all you wanted to do is scream. A thousand thoughts run through your mind, your insecurities rage.

Jake just looks at you, chewing his tongue. His silence makes things worse.

You take in a breath. “Is it…is it really me?” You begin to ask, hand on your uneasy stomach. “Am I so hard to talk to? I feel like I’ve been right behind you this entire time, ready for whatever you need. Have I not made you feel that way? Or-or is it you? You don’t want me by your side anymore?”

His eyes soften, he shakes his head. “No, no.” He mumbles but tears are already falling down your face.

“Is it someone else? Is there someone else?” Your shoulders shake.

He comes forward swiftly, gently gripping your arms. He looks you dead in the eye. “No. Don’t ever think that.”

“Then what’s the real problem? Please!” You plead.

“It’s me!” He shouts back. “It’s my fear, it’s my stress and I haven’t figured out how to move forward withe life and have all these damn changes!”

Your lip quivers, watching him work through his thoughts.

Jake breathes heavy. “I got moved up the ranks, I have all these new responsibilities I thought I could handle with ease but I can’t. I’m st-”

He chokes on the word.

“I’m s-struggling and I hate that.” He steps back, motioning to you next. “And I’m taking it out on you and I don’t know why, it’s like being around you too often reminds me that I promised you an easy life and right now, that’s not what I can offer.”

You soften, still crying but not for yourself. You come to reach up, pushing his hair back slightly.

“I’m not marrying you for an easy life, I’m marrying you because I love you, Jake. That means being the only one you can come to at the end of the day. The stress and fear won’t scare me, okay? What scares me is the idea of you disappearing.” You softly ensure, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

He sighs and pulls your hand away, intertwining it with his. “I’m an ass. I’m a really big ass, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

His other warm hand wipes your face clean of any tears. You smile. “I’ll only forgive you if you promise to talk to me about things from now on.”

Jake smiles, then kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

As the two of you lay in bed, you turn over to wrap your arm around his middle, head on his chest as you tangle your legs with his. His calloused hand slides up and down your back.

“I’d be okay with a Spring wedding.” Jake says, breaking comfortable silence.

You adjust to look up at him. “Spring?”

He nods. “Yeah, I think you’ll look nice next to all those colors.”

You grin and lay your head back down. “Spring time it is.”

#top gun fandom #top gun maverick #glen powell #fluff #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #argument

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obliviouscxnt · 9 months

Text

Control Azriel x Reader

a/n: I'm so lost, i don't know what I'm doing. Still learning how to use tumblr but in the meantime, welcome to the first fic i feel like posting.

synopsis: feyre's growing curiosity about you sparks some personal questions.

Warnings: mentioned SA, fluff, hints of sexual activities

pt.2 | pt.3

One of the first friends Feyre made in the Night Court was you. You reminded her of the twin wraiths in a way. Never saying much, if anything at all. Maybe that was one of the reasons she liked you so much.

You didn’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s presence. Feyre had as much fun sitting in silence with you as she did on a night out with Mor.

But as time passed, as Feyre became a constant in the Night Court, she had grown curious. She wanted to know more about you like she did the others.

So she started asking you questions, and to her surprise, you would answer her. Your answers weren’t clipped, or vague. You never sounded annoyed with her, you were completely open and honest with her.

“How long have you known everyone?” Feyre had asked while you gently played with her hair, her scalp tingling at your touch.

You thought about it for a moment. “Over two hundred years now.”

She tilts her head, so apart from her you were the newest member of the inner circle. “How did you meet?” She asks, shivering as the tingles travel down her spine.

You start braiding a few small strands from the front of her face as you speak. “My kind are far different from other Fae.” Feyre practically perks up at the words. She knew you weren’t high fae but she never bothered saying anything about it, she barely even noticed it most of the time not nearly enough to warrant a discussion. “They hail from no court, and bow to no lord, not even the Mother is with their thoughts.”

Feyre tried to imagine what that would be like, how they would act, what traditions they’d carry. She thought of your features, the ones that stood out among other high fae. Your ears didn’t point, your nails were like claws, and your teeth bore long sharp canines on both the top and bottom of your mouth, but the features that stood out the most were the ones you kept hidden.

Feyre saw them once, your wings. The first time she met you. Like they were just there for a formal introduction. They were big, beautiful, and intricate. They looked like moth wings, and fluttered like them too. Opening and closing slowly when you were lax.

Immediately when Feyre saw them, she felt like painting again, she could barely keep her eyes off them, barely keep herself from reaching out a hand to touch them. Maybe that was the reason for their absence in the next visit; all that remained of the glorious appendages was precise ink that lined the whole of your back, a tattoo of folded wings.

From the way they folded, they almost formed a natural cape. She wondered how far your tattoo ran, the extravagant fabrics of the dresses you wore only showed so much.

She pictured a whole colony of people that looked like you and immediately felt like painting again.

“It’s why nobody can do anything about their backward ways, they listen to nobody but themselves. Believe no one but themselves.” All preconceived thoughts of your people turn sour with your words.

“The things they’ve done, they still do…” You release a shaky breath as you finish the small braids and set them aside.

Feyre turns to look at you when your delicate hands part with her hair. She finds you sorting through a box of hair ornaments, but your eyes are clouded. Not even the most glorious of diamonds could shine through that fog. “You don’t have to...“

You blink out of your daze and wave her off as you pull out a few gem-encrusted pins and show them to her. Waiting for her to give you a nod of approval before pulling out a stunning bejeweled silver comb and repeating the same process. Your collection was truly marvelous.

“When I was saved, it was my first Flowering Night.” You spoke the words with barely concealed bitterness. “A night where all mature unpaired females are sent into the woods for any participating males to hunt down and take as they please.”

You tuck back the small braids with the sparkling pins. Feyre listened as you continued, she wanted to say something but what would she say?

“No one could run very far from our community, the woods of the Middle hold no mercy. It was either hide and hope you make it till dawn without being spotted by a male. Or die to the other horrid creatures that live in those woods.”

Feyre’s heart ached for you, her sorrow a tangible thing able to be smelt in the air. And you squeezed her shoulder, you comforted her. Her sorrow only increased. You never deserved any of it.

“I chose the latter.” You carefully place the comb into her hair, finding it in yourself to smile at the final product. You still fiddle with a few strands until you feel pleased. “A close encounter with death led to the discovery of my gift,”

Dreamwalker, Rhys had called you. An ability so rare even Helion’s exquisite library had very little information on it.

Feyre loosely understood that you could enter another person's dream. Could manipulate it as you wish, to serenity or to a blood-curdling nightmare. But what made you so powerful, what made you such a valuable asset to the Night Court was your ability to bring dreams to life. All manner of dreams.

However, your ability was sparsely used for court matters, and only necessary people knew of it. You were their trump card. Something nobody would see coming.

Feyre would never forget the time you had a nightmare, sending half the court in preparation for battle. She’d also never forget the way Azriel had fought off the nightmare incarnate to get to you. How he charged forward without an ounce of hesitation. While Rhys had stood protectively in front of Feyre, and Cassian’s siphons flared from beside her, providing a shield around them.

Feyre had realized then that Azriel would go to hell and back for you.

Feyre turns to face you, to look you in your enchanting eyes now that you are finished playing with her hair. “I was barely a woman, I didn’t know the first thing about defending myself. I didn’t know what this gift was.” She watched you raise a hand, small stars forming and trailing your fingers, blinking and shimmering as you played with them. “What good is a gift this powerful if you don’t know what to do with it? It’s as good as a broken blade.”

Feyre’s breath leaves her body when you pull down the shoulder of your elegant emerald gown, revealing a long jagged scar running diagonally across your chest. The skin puffed up from how deep the gash was. “I would’ve died if it weren’t for Azriel.”

The high fae’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly.

“He heard me screaming. And he came for me.” You pull the shoulder back up and smile. Actually, smile. Feyre had never known someone like you, someone able to flip such a horrid memory around. Someone so able to pick out the good amongst the bad. “It wasn’t until a century later that I finally accepted his invitation to the Night Court and met everyone else.”

Feyre found herself grabbing your hand and squeezing. So grateful you had accepted his invitation.

You squeeze back.

“You’re so strong.” Feyre says, furrowing her brows when you laugh like she had told a joke.

“It wasn’t strength that led me here, Feyre.” You tell her. Once again she wanted to paint you, but she felt like she wouldn’t be able to do you justice. “It was fate.”

A knock sounds at the door.

“Come in.” Feyre calls and you both look to the opening door. Two incredibly attractive Illyrian men stand at the doorway.

Rhys smiles at the sight of you two, eyes raking over the hairstyle you’d given Feyre. “You look lovely, Feyre darling.” Her face heats as you smile in triumph.

“Say goodnight.” Comes Azriel’s voice in that tone he only used on you.

You obey his command without a second thought, giving Feyre a light hug and giving Rhys a small bow before scurrying toward Azriel’s waiting arm.

You fall into step with him as his hand lands on your lower back. But before the two of you could disappear you tug on his shirt, prompting him to stop only long enough for you to turn back toward Feyre and say a final goodnight. “Dream well Feyre!” Then he continued leading you away to your shared chambers.

The mated pair watch you two travel away. Rhys with a look of content for you and his brother. Feyre with a new curiosity.

She couldn’t help but be curious about the dynamic you and Azriel had. The way that dynamic bled into the interactions you had with your friends. How you always asked for permission before doing something and always jumped up whenever anyone asked you to do something. Rhys seemed to catch on to that curiosity.

He decided to save you the embarrassment of Feyre asking you herself. He had enough of an understanding of you to know when something would make you uncomfortable, no matter how much you said otherwise.

You’d always answer any questions asked of you openly and honestly, whether you wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons many were at first against your visits with Feyre, himself included. The newly turned fae was far too oblivious to your situation to recognize when she was taking advantage of your obedience. But you assured Rhysand repeatedly that Feyre never bothered you with her questions. That you enjoyed her presence just as much as she, hopefully, enjoyed yours.

Much to everyone’s delight, Feyre regarded you with gentleness and awe from the very start. It was the effect you had on people. It was the reason Azriel didn’t put up a fight about leaving your visits unsupervised.

“[name] was raised by cruel people, they taught her that in a relationship the male's word is law. Her people think a female is expected to give up any and all control to her male. It’s one of the few things she never was able to condition herself out of, Azriel helps her by providing that control she needs.”

Feyre thinks about that, face heating at the images it created. She wondered what that would be like, to surrender herself completely. “So if he told her to jump off the nearest bridge…?”

“She’d do it, with zero hesitation.”

Rhys smirks, knowing glint in his eyes as his gaze runs over the blush that coated her face.

“But he’d never ask something like that of her. He knows her inside out, knows when something is too much or not enough.” He steps closer to her, delighting in the way her breathing picks up. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think your interest in this topic was more than innocent curiosity.”

“Well, do you?” Feyre asks, making his eyes narrow. “Know any better?”

Rhys’s gaze becomes dark. “Nope.”

****

“Did you enjoy your time with Feyre?” You sigh at his voice, the comfort it brings you. You find yourself leaning into him, and he allows it.

“It was nice.” You say truly. It felt like it was easier to breathe now that Feyre had more of an understanding. “She asked about how we met.”

The hand on your back pulls you closer to him as if he were remembering that day. Remembering what you looked like as that hideous creature held you down, slicing into you. The way you flinched away from him after he’d slayed the creature. The sheer dress that you wore, If it could even be called that. He could still picture everything so vividly.

How you eventually submitted to him, and how that made him sick. How he carried you out of the Middle and into the lands of the Night Court, never taking you into the cities. How for the next century after that he would visit you at the little private cabin only he and his brothers knew about, how he took care of you, and how he grew to love you. How you grew to love him in return.

He shoves those thoughts into the back of his mind as he opens the door to your shared chambers, walking you inside before shutting the door behind you.

His hands move to your shoulders while he guides you to sit on the edge of the large bed, big enough to fit at least three winged beings. Hands brushing down your body as he kneels before you, settling on your ankle. He brings your foot up and rests it on his thigh before slowly unraveling the straps of your heel. Once finished he continued with the right heel, his touch nothing but confident from years and years of practice.

A hand pats your thigh, letting you know he’s finished. Your eyes trail him as he heads toward the bathroom, you’d be happy to just look at him for the rest of your immortal life.

You help Azriel, though he had no problem doing it for you, by taking off your jewelry one by one, setting each extravagant piece on the nightstand. By the time you're done Azriel’s waiting for you next to a full bath.

“Come.” He beckons from beside the large clawfoot tub. Hand outstretched and waiting for you.

You saunter toward him, sighing as you let your brain just rest. Let him do everything for you.

His hands are strong, and gentle, and secure all in one as they guide you out of your gown, his clothes following not long after. You sigh as he brings you into the tub. Positioning you so you sat between his legs, back to his front.

Your eyelids slowly fall shut, coaxed by his soothing touch. Feeling nothing but content when he pushed your head back to lay on his shoulder, a gentle kiss pressed against your temple.

You were soon in a state of barely there, just teetering on the side of sleep but awake enough to move when he told you to.

“Lean forward.”

His hands rub up and down your back, cleaning and massaging the skin there. You shudder in pleasure and he hums soothingly. Like cooing at a pet. You straighten up a bit when he taps the marked skin a few times, moving forward just enough for your wings to slowly peel away from your back. What was once ink on your skin, now real moving wings.

“Spread.” And you do so, wings unfolding and stretching out completely.

You shiver as his hands brush against them, making them twitch both away and toward him. As if they couldn’t decide whether the feeling it brought you was too much or not enough.

As always Azriel handled them with utmost care, humming when small noises of pleasure escaped you. When he was finished he tapped your shoulder to let you know, but you were too tired to summon the magic needed to conceal them.

Though, not tired enough to remember it was his turn.

Slowly with lethargic movements, you turn to face him. Wings folding up again, forming a natural cape on your back. “Can I-“ You begin but catch yourself before you can finish. His narrowed eyes crinkled into a smile. Happy he no longer had to remind you of such a simple fact.

Don’t ask to touch what is yours.

So instead you reach for the soap in his hands and begin to wash him. Taking satisfaction in the way his wound-up muscles, tense from hours of work, relaxed under your touch. The way his hands rested on your hips, squeezing every now and then appreciatively. The hums that left his mouth, no longer with the intent to soothe you but to let you know how pleased you made him.

Your touches became increasingly distracted, sleep slowly leaving your system as your mind filled with nothing but him.

He smirks, a mix of amusement and attraction. Allowing his own touches to become less innocent. His hands move to wrap around your wrists, dragging your hands down, down, and down his body. Soap long ago discarded.

“Touch me.” He commands.

And nothing could keep you from satisfying him.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron

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headlinerkwan · 2 months

Text

for us - c.sc

pairing - bestfriend!seungcheol x gn!reader

genre - nonidol!au, f2l, fluff, comfort, a bit of angst, knightinshiningarmour!seungcheol, reader and seungcheol are whipped for each other but too dumb to realise.

summary - waking up the next morning in your childhood home, unanswered questions and glances that last a little too long leave you questioning your feelings for your best friend.

warnings - profanity, discussions of mental health

wc: 2.2k

a/n - this is part two of my fic 'for now'. i recommend reading part one first!! lmk what you think about part 2 (ᵔ.ᵔ)

requests: open <33

taglist - open!! comment or send an ask to be added ✩

You wake up the next morning to the golden sunlight streaming through your window, kissing your skin warmly. Your childhood bedroom smells like a bittersweet blend of home and naive dreams, it is a place that you’ve both longed for and loathed since you became an adult- wait. Your childhood bedroom…the events of last night come flooding back to you… shit.

Sitting up quickly you look around your empty room.

Where the fuck is Seungcheol?

Feeling disorientated at best, you decide that following the soft music playing in the kitchen would probably give you the best chance of finding him or, at least, gaining some sort of clarity. Your foggy morning brain leads you into your parents lounge, the soft glow of a lamp inviting you into the room.

That's where you find him, sitting comfortably on the couch, reading one of your father’s books like this is his home, like this is the most natural thing he’s ever done. His hair is a perfect mess, red undertones from past dye jobs revealing itself under the light, flowing perfectly as he runs his hand through his hair and his bare face glows under the morning sun. You think you could watch him all day if he’d let you.

“Y/Nnie” he calls, leaping to his feet with the sweetest smile adorning his face. God, how can someone be so-

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought, you don’t even get the chance to answer him before his arms are wrapping around you, bringing you against his chest as his face finds solace in the crook of your neck. Whilst his sudden embrace takes you by surprise at first, your heart jumping, you can't help but melt into him, his warmth enveloping you and his cologne calming your nerves immediately. The way your bodies are intertwined it's difficult not to think that maybe…just maybe, you and Seungcheol are made for eachother - two halves making a whole.

After a beat of comfortable silence, you gently lift your head away from him. “Cheol..” you whisper, he responds with a mumbled confirmation that he’s listening, “...I’m sorry”.

He lifts his head rapidly then, concern painted across his face as his eyes meet yours. “Why? What do you have to be sorry about sweet?”. His arms are still wrapped around you, his thumb gently caressing your forearm as you stare up at him, tears welling quietly in your eyes.

“That you’re here. That you drove here, through the night, just because I was-”

He cuts you off.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I promise. This is nothing, I’ll do this a thousand times, I’ll do anything for you. You know that right?”

Despite your guilt, you can’t help but smile at him, his words so sincere, his eyes so full of love. You nod slowly, of course you know - you’d do the same for him, and he pulls you back into an embrace, holding you against his chest as he kisses your head softly before resting his head on top of yours.

“Why?” you question after a while, your words muffled slightly against the fabric of his t-shirt. You feel him take a deep breath, preparing his response.

“Because…”

“Because what?”

“I’ll tell you later sweet, can we just… stay like this for a while” he says quietly, holding you tighter in his warm embrace.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

Seungcheol's POV

He could stay like this forever. You in his arms, sweet and delicate, he can’t shake the feeling that this is where he’s meant to be - by your side. Of course he would drive through the night for you, he thinks, of course he would carry you to your bed, of course he would sleep on your bedroom floor in case you needed him because well… he loved you.

He’d loved you for three years, he’d shown you in every way he could think of, except through words. He could never quite bring himself to tell you. He had tried, God had he tried, but the words were always caught in his throat, the fear of the unknown silencing him from telling you the truth. Everything in him wanted to tell you, wanted to shout from the rooftops that he loves you, that you’re beautiful.

That you’re everything to him.

To him, you are the sun, the rain, the clouds. To him, you are a gentle spring breeze, a late summer sunset, you are fresh coffee in the morning and a warm meal at dinner. To him, you are everything good in the world, big and small. You are his favourite song, his favourite place, his best memory, his future.

But how could he tell you? How can he put into words everything that you are? And if he does? If he does and it ruins your friendship? If he does and he loses you? If he does and you love him too? What then?

He takes a deep breath and decides to try and forget about it for now. His problems are not important right now - you are.

“So sweet, are you gonna give me the exclusive Y/N tour of your hometown or are you gonna leave me looking for breakfast like a lost puppy?”

His heart is happy as you chuckle lightly against his chest, looking at him with your doe eyes before grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

The day you spend together walking around your hometown can be described as nothing less than happy. You had mentioned before leaving about the small size of your sleepy town, that there wasn’t really much to do but it’s clear that doesn’t matter as you and Seungcheol fill the hours with conversation, laughs and smiles. It’s easy with him, comfortable, smooth, but still exciting. Maybe it’s too easy because, before you realise it, the sun is setting over the town square.

“Should we head back soon?” Seungcheol asks, his brown eyes are golden caramel in the sunlight, the breeze flowing gently through his hair. You reach up cautiously to move some of the hair out of his eyes, unsure of how he will react but, his eyes flutter shut as he smiles gently, an expression of gratitude. “Can we stay for a bit? Just until the sun goes down, it’s beautiful I promise” you plead. “Well if you say it’s beautiful then I guess I’ll have to check it out for myself” he replies cheekily, his mouth curling slightly.

Turning away from him to watch the sun, you freeze as he stands behind you, resting his head on your shoulder, and wrapping his arms around you. A million thoughts are running through your head, all of them about him, and your heart beats faster as he leans against you. But then, he takes your hand, interlocking your fingers with his, drawing patterns on your skin with his thumb and suddenly everything is quiet, peaceful. It’s just you and Seungcheol and everything is okay.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

The sun has almost disappeared behind the horizon by the time you find the courage to ask him if he’ll answer your question from this morning.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to” you reassure him, “It’s just that, I don’t know, sometimes I can’t help but wonder what goes on in your mind. I can see it in your face that look you get when you’re stressed or thinking too hard and… I just want to be there and help you with it but if I don’t know then I-”

“I love you” He replies nonchalantly. It takes you off guard but it’s nothing new, friends tell each other that they love each other everyday.

You chuckle as you reply, still watching the sunset “I love you too but-”

“No Y/N, I love you. I’m in love with you.” He states, taking a deep breath.

You feel your stomach flip at your best friend’s words. What the fuck? Surely you didn’t hear that right. There’s no way Seungcheol loves you. Not in that way. Not in the way that you love him. Right?

You turn around to face him, his hands still sitting carefully on your waist. “Sorry, what?” you question, a nervous shake in your voice whilst you search his eyes for answers.

“I’m in love with you.” He says with soft eyes, biting his cherry lips as he attempts to read your body language, “I think I’ve loved you since that first week, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, I didn’t know then, I just knew I had to know you, I needed you in my life.”

You can hardly believe the words leaving his mouth, you can hardly believe it’s him stood before you, you can hardly believe he loves you.

“Seungcheol.” you mutter gently as he nervously rambles. He pauses, eyes scanning your face for anything that will tell him what you’re thinking, nothing.

“Yes?”

“Stop talking.”

You move closer to him, closing the gap between you, your faces millimetres apart. His features are illuminated by the glow of twilight as you meet his eyes. You inhale sharply as he hesitantly lifts his hand to gently caress your face. “Okay” he whispers, his breath tickling your lips gently.

Your eyes flick between his gentle eyes and full lips one last time before your mouths crash into each other. It’s cautious at first, nervous, but you gradually find a gentle rhythm. His free hand finds your lower back, bringing you as close as possible to him as your arms rest on his shoulders. His soft lips kiss you back like you are the most delicate thing in the universe, he tastes sweet and warm. This is something you didn’t know you needed but now that you have it, you’re not sure if you’ll be able to live without it, without him.

Soon gentle kisses become driven by passion, you are both hungry as you chase the other for more, for closeness, for love. As your fingers tangle slightly in his hair, he nips your bottom lip gently before kissing away the delicious pain and falling back into your new rhythm with roaming hands and heavy breath.

It is only when a car alarm blares nearby that the two of you are thrown back into reality. Seungcheol leans his forehead against yours as you giggle. He takes your hands, not daring to take his eyes off of you and places a gentle peck on your cheek. So many emotions are exchanged in every movement made; relief, happiness, nerves, excitement, love.

“The sun’s gone” you point out after a moment. Seungcheol nods, he knows it’s time for both of you to go back to the city but he sure as hell is not going to be the one to take either of you out of this moment.

A comfortable silence falls over you whilst you watch people mill around your town’s square, some you recognise as old acquaintances, teachers, coworkers. You think about potential inside jokes you may have had with them or any fun facts about them but to no avail, the people of your hometown have become ghosts, lost to the past. So you stand with Seungcheol and just watch, his hand finds yours and you lean your head against his shoulder.

You stand watching your past, hand-in-hand with your future.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

You are stood next to Seungcheol’s car waiting for him to unlock it so you can load in a bag of food your mother had given to you. He appears from around the corner, car keys in hand, running towards you just like he had on the night of the carnival, with bright eyes and a wide grin. Except this time it was different. This time you knew what that look meant, he wasn’t just happy to see his friend, he was happy to see you - the person he loved.

Placing the bags into the back of his car, you make an exaggerated show of strength, huffing and heaving as you lift the light bags onto the back seat before walking towards the passenger seat, flexing your biceps as you feign exhaustion.

Opening the door for you, Seungcheol laughs at your dramatics, “You’re so weird”.

As he climbs into the driver’s seat and closes the door, you pout at him, pretending to be upset at his comment. “Wowww, that’s so mean! Damn, and I thought you loved me.” you remark as you jokingly shake your head.

He giggles and takes your hand, turning to look at you. “Sooo dramatic! You’re the good kind of weird, don’t worry sweet." You chuckle quietly and squeeze his hand in response.

After a beat, you speak up again.

“I might be the bad kind of weird too. Is that okay?”

There is a heaviness in your voice that makes him frown slightly and, when your eyes avoid his, he places his hand on your jaw, soft eyes finding yours.

“I love all your weird” He says gently “I’ll take as much of you as I can get, the good and the bad.” Scanning your face he adds “For you, anything, always.”

He places chaste kisses all over your face until you’re smiling again, pulling him to meet your lips this time, he smiles into you and, with his sweet lips against yours, you are at peace.

For us, anything, always.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

taglist:@caaaptaaainamericaaa @gyuguys

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inuyashaluver · 7 months

Note

Are we getting any Ona x reader Childhood sweetheart??

mi media naranja (my better half) - ona batlle

ona batlle x reader

description: in which you and your childhood friend watch each other grow up, going through different partners, life stages and miraculously ending up in a surprising result

warnings: it’s a long one - buckle up!! catalan in bold italics, mentions of cheating and tears

a/n: hiya, lovey! i hope you don’t mind that i tweaked this into a childhood friends to lovers situation, i really hope you enjoy❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your best friend, ona, were the epitome of inseperable. your special bond was formed by years of shared laughter, inside jokes, secrets and late night conversations that stood the test of time.

you and ona knew each other better than anyone, the years of being best friends proving soulmates existed.

at first you both believed it was platonic soulmates but as the seasons and years went by, so did your dynamic, unbeknownst to either of you at the time.

it began through the subtle shift in stolen glances and unspoken words and conversations lingering in the air, something felt different for both of you.

little did you both know, the journey and progression from being best friends formed the very foundation of your relationship in the present.

—

[ 7 years old ]

it all started in school, a young ona experimentally kicking a football to a lonely you to test out the waters during lunch break.

in the beginning, you were incredibly shy, finding it hard to make friends at the time. her kindness made your heart warm and when you kicked the ball back, you both knew the other would be in your lives forever.

she came up to you and managed to get you to open up, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that you were quite chatty when you talked about something you were interested in. she loved it.

she’d listen to your words intently, each word engraving new lore about you in her mind, making an effort to remember as much about you as she could.

“one day, we’re gonna play together for spain and bring home a gold medal” ona promises, nudging your shoulder with hers as you both sat next to each other on the grass.

you laugh and nudge her back, nodding and holding your pinky up, she smiled cheekily and interlocked her own with yours, a promise you both intended to keep.

everyday at school, you and ona grew closer. your families were so happy with the fact that you’d made a friend so close, both of you at each other’s houses every other day. it just felt right for the both of you and everyone around you.

—

[ 12 years old ]

you and ona were joined at the hip, not even an exaggeration, you were never apart. you and ona had promised each other that wherever the other would go, you would follow in suit.

it was a non verbal promise but something that was just understood between the two of you.

you and ona had been scouted in your local club to join the youth barcelona team, both of you squealing and jumping around on her bed when you both discussed the situation. however, promptly scolded by ona’s mum that had you both in a fit of giggles.

because the two of you played together so often, each other’s playing styles were very much adapted into your own.

ona was a defender while you played in the midfield, the two of you always linking up to score a goal or an assist.

you both didn’t even need to look at each other to know where to pass or aim, the presence of one another being enough to score goals that had people impressed by your performances.

you and ona thrived in the barcelona team, labelled a dynamic duo by not only your coaches and teammates, but the spectators also.

—

wordless communication and care were the foundations of your friendship. the needs and requirements for the other person just feeling like common sense.

“you didn’t rub it in properly” ona laughs, pointing at the streaks on sunscreen left on the skin of your face.

“in case you didn’t notice, onita, i don’t exactly have a mirror” you grumble, attempting to rub the rest of the sunscreen but missing completely, making the brunette laugh even more.

“oh, preciosa (precious)” she teases, roughly rubbing the remnants into your skin causing you to groan and attempt to push her away.

“done” she cheeses out, giving your cheek a light pat before you shove her away jokingly. “you suck,” you stick your tongue out at her and she immediately returns the gesture, making you both give each other challenging glares before giggling with each other.

—

“my house or yours?” ona grins, passing you your water after training. “mhm, let’s go to yours” you smile back at her, she nods and you both chat as normal.

as soon as you got to ona’s, she gave you some of her clothes to change into and you immediately called your family to let them know you’re here and they already knew you’d ask to stay over so they agreed instantly.

you throw ona a thumbs up as she watches you converse on the phone and she pumps her fist in celebration, making you giggle before ending the call.

—

[ 17 years old ]

this was a difficult time for the both of you, it was when you both started exploring the dating world with other people.

ona got into a relationship first with this random girl, she was super nice at first, but when ona would spend time with you, she would get into insane arguments with her, her girlfriend claiming ona cared more about you than her.

and because it was her first girlfriend, she pulled back from you and you only really saw each other at training, and even then, the communication was limited.

you were heartbroken to say the least, losing your best friend over a girl, you decided to give ona a taste of her own medicine and began dating this girl you thought was really nice.

she treated you well, like a princess honestly, you were giddy and all round happier and ona, from a distance was happy for you.

she’d broken up with her girlfriend and she didn’t, well..couldn’t tell you since she rarely saw you. she regretted the whole relationship, it was toxic and manipulative and she wished she never ditched you for her.

but you were happy again and she would never jeopardise that for you. the only thing ona wanted for you was an endless amount of happiness, getting all the love that you deserved.

it was until you found out your girlfriend had cheated on you, coincidentally with ona’s ex that everything fell back into place.

with tears pooling in your eyes, you knocked on the door of the batlle residence with anxiety overtaking your entire body.

ona opened the door with a worried and confused expression, looking down at your kicked puppy expression that was ready to break down at any moment.

“nena? (babe)” she breathes out, a sob escapes from the back of your throat and you rush to wrap your arms around her neck, pressing your face into her collarbone as your body wracked with a heart wrenching sob.

she immediately holds you around your waist, rubbing comforting circles over the shirt you were wearing, saying nothing but just holding you close.

she tries to pull away to look at you but you shake your head and hold her tighter, she frowns at the sounds of your crying, lifting you up by your thighs and hoisting you up on her waist.

she hurriedly closes the door and rushes to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you cried into her arms. she whispers sweet words in your ear as you pressed into her.

you hug for a couple of minutes until you pull away, wiping your tears away with the back of your hands as you looked down at her,

“i didn’t know where else to go” you sniff, your nose red and your voice slightly congested. she frowns at you, using the pad of her finger to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek.

“you came to the right place, this is your home too, i’ve missed you so much” she says softly, making a few more tears leave your eyes while she chokes back on her own. it felt like so much time but no time had passed as you explained the situation.

ona was pissed, making an effort the next day to give both of your now ex girlfriends a piece of her mind.

that’s when you both decided to take a break with dating, focusing on yourselves, football and each other. everything was back to normal and you were both incredibly relieved.

—

[ 18 - 21 years old ]

as the years went by, you and ona only grew closer, you noticed the shift in your dynamic. the lingering stares and touching blurring the line between platonic and romantic.

you tried to think nothing of it, ona was always incredibly affectionate and if anything she was just being friendly.

if only you knew how this girl really felt about you. in love was an understatement but she didn’t and couldn’t say anything, respecting you more than anyone in the world.

she wouldn’t want to risk losing you, her best friend, her soulmate.

it didn’t really help that you both followed each other to every club, barcelona, madrid, levante and even making the big jump to manchester united.

the best friend duo left an imprint on every club you both went to, proving to be unstoppable in every league.

you were both so in tune and synchronised, ona even managed to assist you in a hat trick at manchester united, claiming it to be one of her proudest moments.

she’d hoist you up on her waist in celebration as she kisses your cheek repeatedly as the girls surrounded you in celebration. “mi niña (my girl)” she grins up at you.

you kiss her forehead in appreciation and couldn’t help but grow a little warm at the pet name, as well as the way she was looking at you as if you were the reason the run had risen in the morning. (she truly believed this)

sure you both got asked over the years if the two of you were dating and it slightly hurt to shut it down.

you received numerous questioning expressions when you’d say, “no, we’re best friends” but the two of you chose to ignore. you both didn’t like each other like that. (silly)

—

[ 24 years old ]

it was until you both decided to return home that everything took a turn. your comeback to barcelona as the dynamic duo had been highly anticipated ever since the transfer rumours came out. and when the contracts were finalised and you and ona were promoted together, it went viral.

falling back into the team with new and old teammates was fluid, and exciting. you both felt good about the whole situation, excited for the new chapter ahead.

ona had partnered up with aitana for training because alexia had dragged you away as soon as she could.

“you like her” she teased, your eyes widen and you give her a little slap on the shoulder, “no, i don’t” you grit out, making your captain laugh brightly.

“please don’t tell me you’re this stupid, have you seen how that girl looks at you?” she scoffs, “heart eyes, makes me feel sick” she mocks, you can’t help the little smile hinting at your lips and alexia smiles satisfied.

she prys the details from you and you surprisingly complied. alexia helped you realised that you’ve liked ona for a while, just never coming to terms with it.

you felt lighter after all of it was off your shoulders, thanking alexia for slapping some sense into you.

she humbly accepted as long as she was the maid of honour at your wedding, making you swear on your life that it would happen.

—

ona had also been in her own conversation with aitana. being one of your teammates for years as well as a close friend, she knew ona liked you, she always has.

she would beg ona to confess, knowing that you liked her back because it was just obvious to anyone with a pulse. she’d always shut down the thoughts quickly. but this time, she actually listened to aitana.

“ona, that girl is in love with you and if she isn’t, you can slap me in the face” aitana speaks with her hands, making ona follow the movements as she spoke.

“you’d actually let me slap you in the face?” ona laughs, aitana gives her a stern expression and ona stops, glancing your way to see you laughing with alexia. she smiles at your bright smile, making aitana shake her head and whisking she had her phone to capture the moment.

—

it was a team bonding session at alexia’s house, a dinner, movie, drinks type of situation. ona and you lived together, like always, so ona drove you both over. alexia opened the door with a hopeful smile but faltered slightly at the two of you just being friends when you gave her that little look of disappointment.

she gives you a longer hug than ona and it makes her slightly suspicious, she knew you and alexia were like sisters but she couldn’t help the funny feeling bubbling in her stomach.

she’d glare slightly whenever you and alexia would interact and it made alexia laugh, knowing that tomorrow you’d come to training with a girlfriend.

when you got in the car and saw ona gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned pale, you glance at her in worry.

“are you okay?” you ask nervously, she looks over at you for a split second before looking back in front. “i’m fine” she says flatly, oh you were in for it.

the rest of the drive was intense and quiet. the tension was unbearable. when you both made it home, ona bolted to her room and slammed the door shut, making you wince. you gave her about an hour to cool off before you cautiously knocked on her door.

“ona?” you say softly, you open the door to see her on her bed just scrolling on her phone, she instinctively moves over so you lie down next to her, staring up at the ceiling as she refuses to look at you.

“have i done something wrong?” you break the silence, ona sighs heavily, “no” she breathes out, turning in her side to face you and prompting you to do the same.

“do you like alexia?” she asks softly, you gawk at her in shock, “what? no!” you exclaim, ona’s cheeks burn a little, looking down to see your hand resting on the bed close to hers.

“why? are you worried?” you tease, ona bores her eyes into yours, “and if i was?” she says full of confidence, your mouth falls open slightly, just blinking as you looked at her in surprise.

both of you are pink cheeked with wide pupils, resembling a full moon. “what do you mean?” you utter, “nenita (babe) you know what i mean” ona says hopefully, you pause for a moment before nodding, your bodies subconsciously moving closer to one another like a magnetic field.

“te amo (i love you)” you say confidently, making the girl in front of you break out into a bright smile, “te amo (i love you)” she parrots, you break out into your own wide smile.

you look at each other lovingly for a moment before ona brings a hand up to cup your face, she glances down at your lips and you inhale eagerly, making her chuckle before she pulled you into a searing kiss.

time seemed to pause at this moment, just the warmth of your breaths and lips mingling unfolding like a gentle melody.

your lips moved tenderly with each other, unlocking the years of whispered promises of love you both never knew you were hoping for. your tongues explored each others mouths and it all felt two familiar, you were soulmates after all.

in that shared moment, the line between friendship and romance faded completely, leaving behind the gentle lull of your now joined heartbeats, the start of forever for the both of you.

—

when you both walked into training the next day with ona’s hand in the small of your back and a gentle kiss to your temple, the room erupted into cheers.

alexia and aitana exchange a high five, a couple of the girls exchanging money making you both laugh brightly at some of the disappointed but happy expressions in the room.

—

when you both went to the world cup and managed to win through a goal from you, ona proclaimed your love then and there, unable to hold it in anymore.

when she pulled you into a loving kiss after that final whistle blew, it was a special moment for tje both of you. especially since you were both fulfilling that promise of bringing home that gold medal.

you and ona’s friendship stood as a witness to the growth and transformation for the both of you. standing as a testament of love that began with the simplicity of a girl kicking a football to you because she thought you looked lonely, forming into a profound and everlasting connection.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!

liked by alexiaputellas and 44,232 others

ona.batlle: mi media naranja (my better half)

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yourname: mi onita xx

yourname: mi media naranja (my better half)

↳ ona.batlle: pretty baby

alexiaputellas: you two would be NOTHING without me

↳ aitanabonmati: and me!!

↳ ona.batlle: all you two did was make fun of us

↳ alexiaputellas: worked though, didn’t it?

↳ ona.batlle: …….

↳ yourname: she said thank you!

context!! - mi media naranja: the literal translation is 'to find your half orange. ' when an orange is cut in half, the two halves match each other perfectly, but no other orange half is likely to fit so closely’ essentially meaning - your better half, your soulmate

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader

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nathaslosthershit · 1 year

Text

Baby Fever and Annoying Brothers||Quinn Hughes x Reader

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Reader

Request: Could I get Quinn Hughes with baby fever and his brothers there to make fun of it?

Summary: Quinn gets baby fever real bad and his brothers bug him to propose

A/n: Listen I wasn’t a Quinn girly before but that has recently changed so thank you for these requests

Word Count: 700+

“Quinn, dude, come on let's go.” Luke complained. The brothers had been trying to start a basketball game for the past 45 minutes. Jack and Luke were ready, but Quinn kept pushing it off with a simple ‘5 more minutes then i'll be ready’.

What, you may ask, was keeping Quinn from playing a game with his family? The sight of his girlfriend interacting with the baby of a family friend of theirs. It was quite possibly the most addicting and adorable sight he has ever seen.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, no matter how hard he tried. The whole scene was beautiful. Outside, on the lawn chairs in the backyard, laid his girlfriend of 4 years gently swaying a now sleeping infant in her arms as she quietly spoke to the baby’s mother as well as his own mom.

“Quinn this is getting-” Jack was cut off when he saw it. His older brother sitting there, oblivious to the heart eyes he was making. It was hilarious to him. His big brother practically brought to his knees at the sight of his longtime girlfriend holding a baby.

As he stood next to Luke, Quinn finally was pulled out of his trance. Embarrassed at his brother's gawking, he finally went to play basketball.

But of course the two youngest Hughes couldn’t just not bring it up. It was their brotherly duty to chirp Quinn into his place.

“So when are you gonna actually purpose?” Jack asked. At this, Luke elbowed him in the side, hard.

“Come on dude let him live” Luke reprimanded.

“Thank you, Luke.” Quinn responded.

“No but seriously, he is right. You spend almost an hour staring at your girlfriend for holding a fucking baby. I know you’ve got a bad case of baby fever after that. When are you gonna actually get started on that shit? Unless you don’t plan on going the whole marital route before kids. I don't’ really know how some people would thi-”

“Can you both please just shut the fuck up about it.”

“Come on, Quinn, we are just chirping you. Although we saw the way you were looking at her. You sure that hasn’t changed anything…” Jack teased.

He was right of course. While he was staring, he was also envisioning a life with her. A life with his beautiful wife, in a beautiful home, with kids to fill it. Maybe they’d have one, or maybe a whole hockey team. Who’s to say? The last thing he wanted though, was to be discussing it with his brothers when they would just tease him.

“No, nothing has changed. Although things may happen sooner-” “What the fuck does that mean?” Luke asked.

“I just- I don’t need kids right this second.” Quinn stated.

“But?”

“But I do have a ring. I’ve kept it in my hockey bag for the last few months. I just- I just don’t know when I’m gonna propose.”

“Quinn why the fuck didn’t you tell us?” Jack practically yelled.

“Does mom know? She will flip the fuck out if you got it and didn’t tell her?” Luke asked.

“Yes, she knows. She has been bugging me about it every single day. Trying to give me ideas and such but I just need to find the right time and place.”

“Isn’t now the right time and place though? You are with family, in a pretty fucking beautiful place. I mean what's stopping you from taking her on the boat tomorrow and doing it.” Jack joked. But he was right. You had once stated, while intoxicated, that you would have killed Quinn if he proposed in public, as if that was something he would ever do. The secluded boat would be the perfect place.

Quinn smiled to himself as he came to this revelation. He would propose, soon, and get started on the life he had envisioned. He didn’t answer either of them or tell them about his plans, but one look at his face and his brothers knew. They both shared a look as their absolutely smitten older brother went to grab the ball.

#nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader

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love-fictional-ppl · 3 months

Note

srsly need best friend denki to fuck me!!

Omg me too! Sorry for this taking forever I’ve had so much going on all of 2024😭😭

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚. ༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚. ༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ✩˛˚.༶⋆˙⊹｡

Chandelier

Summary: you both have been best friend’s for years, one night Denki kisses you leading to more.

Pairings: bsf!Denki Kaminari x Fem!reader

Warnings: weed, language, smut, heavy making out, mentions of romantic feelings, oral(fem receiving), squirting, unprotected sex(dont be silly, wrap ur willy!), creampie, choking, overstimulation, probably more that i missed.

A/N: reader and Denki are both 19 but feel free to imagine them as u like also if you cant tell ponyo is one of my favorite movies. i suck at titles so uh its called chandelier cs i was listening to chandelier by sia

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

Denki had been your best friend since middle school, the two of you attached at the hip. When Denki had decided he wanted to attend U.A. and become a pro-hero, you joined him for the journey. You joined the support course, having no quirk that would do any good in the hero business.

At 19 years old, you were attending college at some university working a part time job to pay tuition. Denki on the other hand was working as a side-kick whilst also part time streaming on twitch, the two of you remain close just not able to see each other as frequently do to both of your conflicting schedules.

Tonight was a rare night where Sero was gone, leaving his and Denki's shared apartment to the latter. You clocked out of work, excited for the sleepover you were about to have, having been 3 months since your last sleepover.

You grabbed the spare key under the welcome mat and let yourself into the blonde’s home, something you had done many times. You dropped snacks had picked up on your way over onto the counter in the kitchen. You walked into Denki’s bedroom to find him rolling a blunt, lounging in his bed.

Denki looked up when he heard his door open, “Hey, cutie.”

You rolled your eyes, never ceasing to find amusement in his teasing, “Hey, pikachu.”

You flopped into the bed quickly making yourself at home. Denki tossed his TV remote over to you to find something to watch. You easily chose Ponyo.

You heard the flick of the lighter and the Stun-Gun hero's laughter, you looked over and saw him attempting to light the blunt but shaking to hard.

"What's so funny?" you pouted.

"You watch this movie like once a week," Denki was amused but not surprised by your antics.

Two movies and five blunts later, you both were giggling like idiots lying next to each other in the boy's bed while you played with his hair.

"You know, you're the prettiest and most decent guy I know." You had no clue why you were saying these things.

Denki moved to lay on his side and stared at you, for a second you were worried you had said something wrong. Suddenly, your best friend of 8 years kissed you. Deep.

At first, you were shocked and didn't know how to respond than, you realized how good it felt. You cradled Denki's face to pour more passion into the steamy kiss.

"I've been thinking about doing this for months-" you kissed Denki again to shut him up, you didn't feel like discussing feelings at the moment.

You pulled away from the kiss and pondered, "If I ask you to fuck me will it change our friendship forever?"

The ever optimistic boy smiled and rested his forehead against yours, "Only in the best ways, hopefully." Always kidding.

Denki readjusted so that he was on top of you, missionary position. He kissed down your neck and left hickeys in his wake. Denki tugged the hem of your shirt, hinting for you to sit up so he can remove it.

You were shocked that you were actually doing this, not because he was your best friend but because you had secretly fantasized about this, it was one of your most hidden secrets.

You grabbed the boy by his blonde locks causing a moan to leave his mouth, and you pulled him to your face so you could shove your tongue in his mouth.

The two of you stayed like that for a minute, only separating so you could pull the t-shirt over his head.

The blonde moved down to kiss down your neck once again, tracing the forming bruises with his tongue. He kissed down your chest, sucking on the cleavage hanging out of your bra.

You couldn't help the sounds coming out of you, you pulled Denki impossibly closer. You were sure you were going to suffocate him with your tits but you knew he would die happily that way.

Denki rolled his hips against yours allowing you to feel how he was aching.

"Please. I want you inside of me." Denki was grinding against you desperately.

Whining, "No, not yet, I gotta make sure your ready." You were sure that as pleasurable as this would feel, it was more so for his insatiability.

Nonetheless, you allowed Denki to crawl south to pull off your pants and underwear. Once the offending materials were tossed somewhere the boy shoved his face into his desired location.

"Your so wet," it was more of a statement to himself. He was hypnotized.

"Pleasee," you were embarrassed by how pathetic you sounded.

Denki delved his tongue inside of your tight hole. The moan released from you was pornographic. you tried to close your thighs around Denki"s head but he held your legs apart and licked a stripe up your pussy.

"Yes! Just like that!" You were humiliatingly close.

The man between your legs knew it too, he shoved two fingers inside of you and started suckling on your clit. Within a dew seconds you squirted all over his face and chest.

Denki sat back on his knees out of breath with your juices dripping down him. He looked beautiful.

You could feel the warmth spreading to your cheeks, "I've never done that before."

Boisterous laughter fell from his laugh, "Well I'm glad to be your first."

You sat up and pulled down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion, you pulled Denki i for a kiss and took the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, all while holding eye contact.

Denki grabbed his base and guided himself towards your warmth. You both moaned in unison, feeling a relief neither of you noticed how desperately you both yearned for.

Picking a pace both of you were content with, Denki leaned his forehead against yours, much like he had at the start of your endeavors.

"Choke me," you were as shocked as Denki was but he just grew harder if that was possible.

Obliging to the demand, a hand was wrapped around your throat, restricting your air flow. You wrapped your hands around his thick forearm, not to signal him to stop but because of the bliss you felt.

"Harder."

"Faster."

Neither of you were satiable.

Denki was pounding you into the mattress at this point. You spasmed around his cock, reaching your second orgasm of the night. The beautiful man above you get fucking your hard, no mercy for your poor cunt. Your vision started to blur and Denki flipped you onto your hands and knees.

"Come on, be a good girl for me." Denki had grabbed you by your face to looks at him, squishing your cheeks.

Everything about this was disgusting. Denki wrapped his right arm around your neck, placing you in a chokehold while pounding you from behind. The two of you had given into your most primal, animalistic urges.

"Shi-shit, let me fill you up, okay pretty girl?" You were too fucked out to even know what he asked.

"Yes! Please, I need it!" you had no clue what you were even saying.

A few thrusts later and Denki was fucking his cum into you, there was so much of it that it was dripping out of you onto the sheets. Denki had removed you from the chokehold so he could force your back to arch and was massaging your ass cheeks.

"You feel so good, i don't wanna leave." You could feel his member twitching inside of you from overstimulation, only half hard.

You knew that Denki was planning to keep going until you came again, so you reached your hand down to play with your clit. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, Denki still fucking you as fast as he could in his fucked out state.

"f-fuck!" Denki could barely hold himself up anymore.

"Just a little more! I'm almost there," The euphoric feeling washing over you as soon as you finished your sentence.

The both of you were moaning and panting, exhausted from your activities. The blonde male pulled out of you and got up to go to the bathroom. You lied in the bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for Denki's return, when he did finally return he arrived with a wet washcloth in his hand.

Denki walked over to your spot in his bed and started cleaning you up, when he was finished he tossed the rag off to the side somewhere.

Once Denki got situated in the bed, lying next to you, he turned his head to looks at you, "Tomorrow, if you're cool with it, we'll go get breakfast and talk. Right now let's just sleep, okay?"

You were completely fine with that, "Okay."

You fell asleep snuggled into Denki's chest, body sore in the best ways and looking forward to the morning to come.

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

i only half proofread this so sorry about any mistakes

#ཐི♡ཋྀpeanut ཐི♡ཋྀ #denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #denki kaminari #mha #my hero academia #mha denki #smut #denki kaminari x fem!reader #au!Denki #He's so bae

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pacentia · 11 months

Text

Title: Forever

Summary: After BG3 events, Astarion and reader feel ready for a child.

Pairing: established relationship fem!reader x Astarion

Tags: NSFW, rough sex, sweetness, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, bloodsucking, kissing, L-bombs

Word count: 1,704

Note: listen up folks. no idea if vampires thralls can make people pregnant. but in my world they can. Pls enjoy. i haven't finished the game, so this is my own fantasy after bg3 events:)). Drabble/fic/headcanon requests about our darling husband are welcome :))

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and eventually months into years, together with your darling Astarion. After the events of tadpoles, mindflayers and vampire masters, the time had come to settle down and live quietly, close to Baldur's gate city. Close enough for easy supply runs, yet far enough to enjoy the privacy of your very own house. Astarion was quick to realize he'd want no one else in his eternal life but you - and asked you - on one knee - to be his forever.

The wedding was held shortly after, with only a close circle of your friends present. Karlach shed a tear from happiness - knowing you two were destined to be together, while Halsin felt just… Bittersweet. Astarion wed a fine woman, although he was secretly convinced that an Druid like himself: alive, warm, and aging could take better care of your needs.

This was often also the subject of certain discussions that popped up in your marriage as you were reading in the garden, or drinking hot tea beside the hearthfire. Worries that washed over him about the coldness of his touch - or the eventual loss he would have to endure somewhere in the far future, when you would eventually lose the battle against time. You understood where his worries came from, but you were always there to comfort your darling husband. You possessed no interest in anyone's touch but his and you pledged to him that you'd always be present in his undead heart.

Of course, the latter made you interested in if his vampirism could be cured or, if you could transform into one. Yet, both choices were frustratingly impossible. Curing him would just mean ending him, heaven's forbid. Transforming yourself would mean serving another vampire lord, a fate that Astarion would never want you to experience.

Though tonight - nothing of that sort mattered and you found yourself intertwined in one another, the soft duvet covering your bare bodies. Your fingers played with his light-grey curls, while his arms were wrapped around your shoulders, ready for bed.

"Say, love," Astarion suddenly spoke up, "I heard you took care of a lost little girl in the city today."

Right. A young Tiefling girl had lost her mother inbetween the packed crowds of the city, and the girl came to you for help. How exactly did Astarion know that?

"Karlach told me of course." The vampire stated as a matter of fact. "She saw you and passed by this noon for tea." You nodded and explained the situation - how you held the little girl's hand right until you found her mother together. The woman thanked you over and over again.

A small silence fell between you two, until the man continued his stream of thoughts, "Karlach then asked me if we'd ever have children and I said that I didn't know what you would think of it and I -" Astarion's gaze avoided yours until he remembered he was probably rambling again, "Sorry love, I just wanted to know if you and I could have that sort of future together?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Astarion as a father. He'd definitely spoil his little ones and love them unconditionally.

"A little one to raise in our house." The pale man smiled, lost in his thoughts. "We already have a spare room that we could decorate for them."

Of course those thoughts had crossed your mind. It would be a new chapter in both of your lives, and you felt ready to take it on together with him. Behind his cheeky and often sarcastic banter, there was a sweet and caring man - only revealed to the closest ones he trusted.

"You know they'll be incredibly mischievous and stubborn, right?" You smirked up at him, to which the vampire quickly retaliated, "Darling, you wound me. Besides, that's why you're there to teach them kindness." Astarion sing-songed, nuzzling into your hair.

No hesitation was present in your words, '"Of course, Astarion. I want this with you." You smiled sweetly, gently guiding his cold digits over your belly, making your vampire husband rub it with such fondness.

Something within him stirred, yet another level of deeper protectiveness that he would soon feel over you. Any other man that would come too close to you, would feel his deadly fangs buried into their jugular. Rip them to shreds. Kill them in cold blood. In fact, it made him involuntarily bare his fangs to you, accompanied by a low growl reverberating in his chest.

You grinned at his primal reaction, and whispered as you caressed his chin, "Dear Sir, you know you can't drink anything from me when you've put your little one in me, right?"

He was taken by a frenzy, and rolled his heavy body over yours - his nose buried into your neck, inhaling the delicious smell of your perfect blood. His cock hardened at the thought of drinking from you, his icy tongue lapping over the countless bite marks that he'd decorated your neck with.

"I know, sweet love. Sadly, I'll have to return to …inferior blood." An adorable pout covered his beautiful features - which made your heart flutter.

"You should get to work then, my love." You whispered in his pointy ear, pressing small kisses along his cheekbone, and you wrapped your legs around his strong back. The vampire chuckled at your words, "Oh, darling." He groaned, elated to see you so eager to get bred by him. His hardness teased over your wet and warm folds, making himself slick before he'd slide home. His arms snaked under yours, to completely wrap himself around you protectively, burying his face into your neck. The intoxicating smell of your blood so close to his lips, made him lose control over his pace and bucked his strong core into yours, drenched cock sliding deep in your sex.

"Fuck, Astarion…" You gasped in pleasure, his large cock burying itself deep deep deep within your folds. The vampire watched your features contort into pure bliss, and bit his lips in return - until he was nestled as deep as possible.

"This is what you want, isn't it, my darling?" Astarion whispered, while you clawed at his back - sweet agony from his pressure on your cervix. His way with words was too much to bear. Icy lips found your ear again, dripping with sin, "Completely inside your warm, wet, delicious cunt."

You could only whimper Astarion and nod, your fingers buried in his soft curls, as his hips started to gently, slowly thrust inside you. His cock felt so perfect. Big, firm, as if he was carved just for you.

"Fuck, darling," Your husband growled, losing himself deep inside you, speeding up his pace, shifting his position so that he could hold onto your hips for leverage. His red eyes feasted on your body, the most beautiful creature he'd ever set his gaze on. He could hear your heart beating faster. Blood pumping through your veins. Cheeks flushed red. He was salivating for you.

"Please, Astarion…" You cried out in delicious agony, needy for him to grab and fuck you harder. Impregnate you. Show Faerûn that you completely belong to him.

"What is it, my love?" He growled with bared teeth, sounds of wet, sloppy thrusts filling the bedroom.

"Bite me once more." You begged, holding onto his strong shoulders, "Just one last time, please."

Yes. One more time he could have you. His sanguine hunger kicked in, and he couldn't restrain himself anymore, "Oh my, darling…" He moaned In relief, his thrusts never faltering, thanking you over and over again for your gift - until he set his fangs in your neck.

One last time that sharp, ice-cold feeling washed over your senses - unable to move or do anything. Delicious pain mixed with heavenly pleasure, both of your orgasms were nearing. No combination more delicious for your husband - your fresh blood spilling from his lips and your cunt wrapped tightly around him. Pleasure welled up inside of your belly, enduring your vampire's violent kiss - until you reached your peak while he drank from your neck.

His digits dug into the sheets, pupils dilated as he released from your neck in time, overcome with adrenaline and power.

"That's it, my darling…"

His thrusts became harder, faster - his bloody lips finding yours, tongue invading your mouth. You were absolutely spent already, having lost nearly two pints of your blood again - so you held onto him for dear life. The metallic taste of your blood made you nearly gag if he wasn't lapping it up off your lips like a hungered animal.

"Astarion, fuck… Make me fucking pregnant." You cried desperately against his lips, his big cock bumping against your cervix with each thrust. And like always, he delivered your plea - and with a deep and primal groan he reached his peak. "Fuck, oh - Fuck - darling!" He growled with bloody fangs, his crimson eyes rolling in the back of his head, jets of his release splattering right against your cervix. Filled up to the brim.

Sated with blood and pleasure, he collapsed on top of you, holding you dearly in the afterglow of your pleasure. Sweaty, bloody bodies pressed against each other. His face buried against the side of your neck, lapping remnants of your blood one last time.

"Can't get enough of it, can't you, sweet?" You grinned.

"Never, my love." He smiled against your flesh as his cold hand gently caressed your lower belly - hoping that his love would nestle itself deep inside of you tonight.

"I love you, Astarion."

"And I love you, my darling. Forever."

#astarion x you #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction

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callooopie · 2 months

Text

Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon headcannons (pt. 1)

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — Brooklyn Baby // Lana Del Rey

I look away from my TV for one second only to look back and see Jacaerys mewing at me while a deadly and violent war is being discussed

You meet at a college party. Definitely. He looks like a party girl. Jace Targaryen(?) (Targaryen? or perhaps Strong in this modern world? Certainly not Velaryon, as I would assume Rhaenyra would have a choice of who she married in this world) gives off either reliable fratboy energy, or kind and quiet student you sit by in your class (He shows you his notes if you missed something. He gives you his number too—just in case you had questions!) Is the type to silently sneak glances at you during lectures. Maybe you even catch him staring once?

Meeting his family is.. overwhelming. On one hand it’s big. Like really big, a little confusing sometimes. On the other hand? Why’s everyone so hot? What are these genes?! His mom, his dad, his half-family members, his friends?!?! You’re sitting there at the family function like ?!?!

Speaking of family—he’s a big family guy. He loves his mom and his dad, he adores his brothers, he tolerates his half-uncles and whatnot. Jacaerys shows you to his mother in her office, and to his father doing work around the house. I believe he would be the type to wrangle and line up his brothers for you and go down the line introducing them. “This here’s Luke, aaand little Joffrey. They shouldn’t give you any trouble—Joffrey’s a little brat though..”

(Joffrey runs up to you and tells you to say skibidi gyat rizz before running off in a fit of giggles—) “…yeah—sorry ‘bout that. He’s in a phase right now..”

When you first meet his mom and dad as only “Jace’s friend” (Rhaenyra and Harwin.. </3) they are ecstatic to meet you. They think you’re lovely! Hip!—is that what the kids are saying these days? Rhaenyra has a knowing look on her face as Jacaerys reminds her that you’re only a “friend” and Harwin goes along like “Oh yeahhh… Jace’s friend.. riiiight” (the label of friend was gone in a week at most. Instead of “Jace’s friend” you were now “Jace’s girlfriend/boyfriend”) his parents saw it coming a mile or two away they weren’t surprised. And they hope you come around more often for dinners and things.

Jace is in a band (with Davos OOP) and Cregan (this dude.. graduated like a year or two before them and they all still hang out?), along with a few others. What? Oh yeah—they do little gigs and stuff. He plays bass, kinda the glue of the team if you catch his drift.. it’s tough work but anything to pursue musical passion right? (“Band practice” consists of smoking weed and watching shitty YouTube videos in a garage. They can and do play though so.. you guess it works?)

If you tag along with that merry bunch.. please know you’re babysitting now (mainly Jace and Davos. Cregan disappears but reappears when needed most—“kinda his thing”) think of the most stupidest thing two college-age guys could do… and go stupider. Breaking into abandoned buildings, arson, meeting the most suspicious plugs in the pitch black woods or sewers. Not how you’d imagine your Friday night to be spent but here you are. “This guy said he had something CRAZY.. and only for $20–that’s a deal in today’s economy.”

That’s his silly side. Normal every Jacaerys is serious. It’s almost a little off-putting. He’s very reserved as well, although with you there’s some cracks in that stoic facade. He’s the type to have a smile tug on his lips if you take a “sneaky” video or photo of him. Maybe while you both are in a study room and you just need something for a Snapstreak or insta story. Who else should be caught on camera than Jace as he’s deep into a textbook, twirling a pen between his fingers while swiveling side to side in a chair. “Hm? ..what’re you looking at girly? ..me? Pfft—shut up..”

I believe Jace would be the type to have a wide range of music he listens to. Only him. From alternative indie to folk to heavy metal to edm. He’s got range, he’s got tastes. He totally has a vinyl collection (yes it’s by a window and yes there’s plants near it)

Outrageous closet. Not in a bad way, in a really really good way. Probably the best dressed man you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t work together for an outfit, work on him and only him (It’s like the Rhianna effect—an outfit looks ugly on someone else, but on Rhianna? It looks amazing. Iconic) the other way to describe his fashion sense is he dresses like a character from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. If there was an enemy stand user—it’d be Jacaerys.

His bedroom makes you believe in men again. It’s so nice, so cozy and smells so good. Blankets are always cooled, there’s just a sense of security around. HOWEVER. His pillows fucking suck. He’s the type to not replace anything like that unless absolutely necessary. They’re flat, dead, and make your hair slightly oily. He has a mountain of pillows but what good is that if they’re all lacking in support?! “I can open a window if y’want—it gets pretty hot in here sometimes. Hm? What’s up? My pillows? …it’s fine- they’re fine, look at them. You know how expensive-“

Everything bad about Davos’s car? Forget about it! Jace puts pride into his car. He cleans it regularly (Saturdays are for car deep cleaning, no exceptions) His parents did buy it for him for his 16th birthday. However he’s kept it in a very good condition so. Some stickers will be on the back, but it’s usually like “her body her choice” or “go for green energy” ..based Jace. (If perhaps Rhaenyra is a political figure in this modern world.. you bet your ass Jace is gonna have a campaign sticker for his mom on his car) “Just right over here is my car—lemme get your door. It’s okay if you get it dirty, I’ll just clean it… —although be careful—“

Speaking of cleaning his car—he will ask you to help him sometimes. Mainly in the summer, when you’re more likely to be wearing an outfit consisting of the smallest and tightest jean shorts and either a tank top or a bikini top. It’s a little hard to wash a car when he’s gripping the sponge tightly and letting his eyes rake down your body—what? No he wasn’t staring. He was looking at something past you. What’s that in his pants? See now you’re just being mean about it—

While Jacaerys partakes in a cigarette now and then, he’s more partial to alcohol. I feel he wouldn’t like the idea of smoking (It’s just things with lungs y’know? ..plus I don’t wanna die before that fucker Davos—“). Jace is a fiend with how he hoards bottles or drinks. Beers, hard alcohols, etc. Dude knows how to throw a whole bottle back like it’s nothing. He keeps a collection of empty bottles for fun (in his closet so his parents don’t find it) or if he lives alone they’re just freely out and around (or maybe still in the closet). “Whaaat? Slow down? Pfft—please, I’m good. Nah this is like water to me now. Have you ever had this?”

#jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys x you #hotd season 2 #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #modern!jacaerys

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ghostlykeyes · 11 months

Note

HI honeyy I love ur blog!!! can u please write the headcanons for kayn and K/da f!reader...how do the two of them explain their relationship to their fans or maybe they give a moment in a few shows?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

HEARTSTEEL KAYN: K/DA READER ♡ Female Reader ♡ SFW, with slight touching/sensuality ♡ No TWs ♡ THIS GOT SO LONG. I am willing to write more for this situation, since I had to cut a lot of my OG ideas to make room for what felt the most important...truly Kayn floods my mind and cannot be expressed or exhausted

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KAYN

When Akali dragged you along to one of Kayn's birthday parties, all she wanted was a drinking buddy to keep her company while Kayn was doing, quote, "birthday boy shit". She wasn't expecting you and Kayn to hit it off so well. She definitely wasn't expecting to find you two wedged in a coat closet, shoving your tongues down each other's throats. She had two words for Kayn as she linked her arm in yours and tugged you out from between a leather jacket and an 80's windbreaker; "Do. not."

But, after two torturously long weeks of you never shutting up about Kayn during rehearsals, and Kayn texting her so much she has to threaten to block him for any sort of peace and quiet (at all hours of the night and day, "hey gimme your hot friend's number", over and over AND OVER AND OVER), Akali comes around. She's just worried for you. Kayn's got quite the reputation, and she doesn't want him to fuck around with you and break your heart. But, she figures, you're both adults, so who is she to stand in the way of whatever you've got going on. So she eventually texts Kayn your number, but not without a warning; "you remember I know martial arts, yeah? and that I can totally kick your fucking ass? don't break my girl's heart dipshit".

On the whole, K/DA supports your budding relationship with Kayn. Even though he's a bit wild, the group's whole thing is about being individual and true to yourself—it seems hypocritical to tell you that you can't be caught holding hands with Kayn in line at Chipotle anymore for the sake of the band's image.

Heartsteel is a bit more tentative about you and Kayn. Alune's nervous to have Kayn dating such a high-profile star when Heartsteel has literally JUST broken onto the scene. But, this is Kayn, after all. What are they going to ask him to do, stop seeing you? He wouldn't listen. Besides, you do seem like a good influence in his life, and if the way his eyes light up whenever he sees your name pop up on his phone screen say anything, he's crazy about you. Eventually Alune sways other management and teams to embrace your relationship, as long as the two of you try to keep it relatively low-key.

If anyone ever implies he's with you to boost Heartsteel's fame or that he's trying to ride K/DA's coattails to the top, Kayn blows up. "We don't need shit from anybody," he sneers, "we're gonna climb to the top all by our fucking selves. Oh, and if you think (Y/N) would settle for anything less than a born rockstar? You're fucking stupid."

For your part, you're more subtle when publicly discussing your relationship with Kayn, but you still shoot down any ideas that he's with you for your status. "Heartsteel definitely doesn't need K/DA's help," you assert. "They're superstars and they're earning their spot on the music scene fair and square."

Kayn is your absolute fucking biggest superfan. He knows your lyrics front-to-back, he shows up to every single event he can, and he even uses Ezreal's Mercari account to snag rare merch that's being resold. Kayn tries to play it cool, but come on. You've seen the amount of posters he tries to hide in his closet. Only a fanboy has a collection like that.

There's hundreds of paparazzi photos of you two floating around on the internet, and Kayn's got a love-hate relationship with that fact. On the one hand, he loves being seen with you—what better way to claim you as his own than a photo of him literally grabbing your ass on the cover of a trashy gossip mag? On the other hand, can't a guy get some goddamn privacy? He hates that he has to share you with anyone, prying 'journalists' included. To make light of it, though, you two have started a little game. You send each other the wildest claims you can find about your relationship, trying to one up the other. Kayn's still winning with the article claiming that he's exercising some kind of mind-control to make you his girlfriend.

Flipping off the camera and open-mouth kissing you is one of Kayn's favorite poses to strike if he notices paparazzi lurking. For your part? You're just happy for his attention.

Kayn loves when you sneak into his shows. You usually have to wear a hoodie and go incognito to avoid getting mobbed, but don't worry, Kayn can pick you out of a crowd no matter what you're wearing. Sometimes, if you're standing close enough to the stage, he'll take off his shirt and toss it at you. He gets off on the attention, on thousands of people all-but-worshipping him, and if his favorite person is in the throng, knowing his worst parts but screaming for him alongside everyone else, just the same? Ego-boost of the fucking century. He may not express it to you often, but he really, really appreciates when you come see his shows.

Your packed schedules present a challenge, and Kayn despises the fact that you're often touring hours away from him. He still tries to talk to you as much as possible, even if it's not in person. Expect daily FaceTime calls, frequent Discord DM's, and around the clock blurry pictures of Kayn causing mischief.

Bless Akali's heart because Kayn absolutely harasses her about you. Whenever you're busy, he bugs her; "tell my gf to come back from the ded". Anytime you're on tour, he Venmoes her money to buy you your favorite fast food. She complains to you constantly—"tell your purse dog to stop yipping at me"— but really, she doesn't mind spoiling you by proxy. She's just happy that Kayn dotes on you so much.

Kayn jokes about making you late for rehearsal a lot—especially if he's halfway down your neck in a heated makeout sesh—but the truth is, that's never going to happen. Sure, he dicks around a lot, but he never gives less than one-hundred-and-ten to Heartsteel and he's not about to let you slack off, either. That includes making sure you get to your K/DA commitments on time (even if your neck is littered with hickies).

Kayn loves when you show him your choreography. He listens intently as you explain how to go through the steps, or complain about what you're struggling with. Often, he'll offer critique; "you look a little off-balance, try standing this way," or "Have you tried positioning a little more to the left?". Sometimes, these are genuine tips. Most of the time, though, he's just looking for an excuse to feel you up. What better way to sneakily touch your boobs than "suggesting" your chest needs to come out more?

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel kayn #kayn #heartsteel x reader #kayn x reader #kayn/reader #sheida kayn #k/da

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boldlyvoid · 1 year

Text

Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier.

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope.

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly.

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend.

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea.

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…”

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.”

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?”

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3.

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?”

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.”

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…”

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.”

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down.

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment.

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating.

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?”

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him.

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them.

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?”

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.”

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping.

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…”

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.”

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…”

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.”

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.”

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.”

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her.

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?”

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?”

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?”

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam.

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?”

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.”

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.”

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…”

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?”

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt.

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.”

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already.

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life.

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer.

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why.

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first.

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before.

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.”

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?”

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?”

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?”

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell.

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before.

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?”

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?”

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.”

“It sounded nice when you were humming?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

“What is it?”

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…”

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.”

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?”

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.”

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him.

“A few mugs?” He teases right back.

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard.

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.”

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face.

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.”

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it.

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned.

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to.

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them.

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?”

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.”

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing.

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away.

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her.

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore.

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now.

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy.

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did.

He wanted this to be perfect for her.

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed.

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day.

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it.

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares.

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…”

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.”

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.”

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her.

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up.

He nods, “is that okay?”

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.”

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too.

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…”

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.”

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?”

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over.

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself.

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them.

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss.

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.”

“Okay then.”

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it.

So she does.

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?”

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.”

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.”

“Summer job?”

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.”

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued.

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.”

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.”

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.”

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.”

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze.

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her.

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?”

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?”

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will.

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right.

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time.

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.”

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away.

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?”

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.”

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.”

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.”

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door.

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave.

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.”

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.”

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…”

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases.

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them.

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…”

“No way?” She can’t believe it.

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.”

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?”

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.”

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?”

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Wow,” she can’t believe it.

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…”

“Really?”

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?”

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.”

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.”

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.”

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.”

“Okay,” he follows her instructions.

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.”

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…”

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?”

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?”

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.”

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.”

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.”

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?”

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other.

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special.

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.”

“I don’t plan to?”

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.”

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?”

“In 2013.”

“Have you been single for 10 years?”

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.”

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.”

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.”

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that.

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.”

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.”

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.”

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks.

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life.

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now.

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking.

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.”

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…”

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself.

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.”

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?”

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…”

“How many have you had so far?”

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…”

“Boyfriend?”

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it.

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.”

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.”

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.”

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.”

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.”

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.”

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.”

“I do.”

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them.

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home.

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off.

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed my best friend.”

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome.

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now.

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.”

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.”

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.”

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.”

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.”

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…”

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.”

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!”

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.”

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.”

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her.

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?”

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?”

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?”

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back.

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?”

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.”

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.”

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?”

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.”

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?”

She nods, “Extremely.”

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another.

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to.

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday.

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight…

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases.

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?”

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.”

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.”

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?”

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.”

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets.

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?”

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.”

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?”

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her.

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went.

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.”

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.”

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?”

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.”

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes.

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.”

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other.

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.”

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.”

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?”

“Only if you’d be mine?”

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.”

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder.

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close.

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her.

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve.

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.”

“Why?”

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it.

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.”

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her.

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up.

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his.

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing.

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?”

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.”

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,” as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time…

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?”

“Do you want to?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?”

“Special sex?”

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed.

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?”

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.”

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.”

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly.

While he��s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?”

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?”

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…”

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…”

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan.

“Do you like that?”

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her.

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?”

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do.

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly.

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her.

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?”

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her.

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream.

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit.

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.”

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed.

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp.

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.”

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…”

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust.

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk.

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.”

“Yeah?”

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!”

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.”

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?”

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?”

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.”

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees.

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath.

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place.

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.”

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him.

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?”

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over.

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her.

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.”

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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astridthevalkyrie · 5 months

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your match is made | xavier x reader

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.” “Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—” “I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.” “Stop,” you whisper. But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

cw: fluff, like that's it that's literally it this is so fluffy

word count: 6.6k

a/n: lyric credits used in this fic: téir abhaile riú by celtic woman <- fire song btw, listen to bless your ears, it also sets the vibe of this fic very nicely tbh. jeremiah's my favorite boyfailure.

Lanterns hang from every available line in and around the town square, brightening any block lucky enough to fall under its horizon. In every corner and roadblock, there are carts littering the streets, dozens upon dozens of merchants calling out their best prices on their finest goods, all the way from fabrics stitched by the very same threads used for the royals’ robes, to common sweet chocolates that all the teenagers are purchasing in bulk to share with their friends and younger siblings. There is room to move around, but there is not a single area that is not bustling with people, either trying to purchase steamed corn from the stalls or simply enjoying the festivities with their families. And in the center of it all, the bards play with such finesse that their fingers may as well be the source of the music rather than the instruments.

Such is the celebration of lights, a celebration of the light. Of Philos, of this miracle that humanity has been gifted with. Every year without fail, the people gather in the town square to commemorate this historic occasion, and every year without fail, it is the grandest jamboree you have ever bore witness to.

“C’mon, Xavier,” Jeremiah protests out loud, “what would be the point of having the crown prince with us if he refuses to pay for our meals?”

Xavier simply shakes his head, the serene smile never leaving his face as he denies Jeremiah for the third time tonight—he clearly derives great pleasure from doing it. “I’d hate to rob you of the chance to participate in Philos’ market tonight of all nights.”

Jeremiah groans at his right, and from Xavier’s left, you giggle. It’s the same routine every single year, and at every occasion to be honest, and yet Jeremiah never stops trying to emphasize the difference in his wealth versus the royal family’s. Xavier, who you think would give his last dime to an ant if it looked hungry enough, looks like he loves refusing Jeremiah more than participating in any one of the activities tonight.

The spicy aroma of rice cakes fills your senses then, and you let out a longing sigh as you look to the stall decorated with steaming bowls on all sides. “I’m starting to get hungry too, now.”

Both of them follow your gaze, where the vendor is hurriedly turning this way and that to discuss prices and accept payments, while three of his chefs work in the back, delivering more as the demand increases. Xavier hums quietly, then takes out a small black pouch from his pocket.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to eat.” He holds out the bag for you to take, but before you can, Jeremiah scoffs, loudly.

“Oh, that’s sick.” He points an accusing finger at the prince. “That’s sick! If you keep playing favorites, you’re going to get betrayed when you take the throne, I hope you know. I swear I’m going to lead a revolution against you myself.”

“Do you really think my grandis knight would ever let you harm me?” Xavier shoots back, and you beam as Jeremiah rolls his eyes, snatching the pouch straight out of his fingers.

“I’ll take this, and I’m going to get two”—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—”two bowls, and I’m not sharing. Your grandis knight can split her portion with you.” With that, he stomps off in a huff, leaving Xavier with his head tilted and a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t understand. There should be enough coins for three bowls.”

“He’ll get you a bowl.” You raise your voice enough for Jeremiah to hear as he walks. “He’s very grateful that you offered your money, isn’t that right, Jermy?”

Jeremiah makes a rude gesture without even turning back to face you, and you laugh, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to follow him. If it were any other member of the royal family, they’d be getting swarmed right about now, and would likely require at least ten guards to stand around them at all times to ward people off. That is how the king and queen sit, a few blocks away from the main festival, up on a platform elevated high enough that no one could think to climb it, with Lightseekers both in front of them and on the ground, safe and observing the celebration from a distance. Philos’ crown prince is different. Xavier is out in the town with the common folk so frequently that he’s almost lost all the celebrity status his title comes with. Of course, that makes him popular in an entirely different way. The people in the market always seem happy that someone of such high status would lower himself enough to walk and talk amongst them.

His hand slips lower as the two of you go after Jeremiah, warm fingers intertwining with yours. You think little of it, reckoning he doesn’t want to get separated with so many people around. Xavier isn’t one to shy away from touch, at any rate. Once you spar with someone enough, it’s only natural to become physically comfortable with one another. He places his hands on your shoulders when he wants to guide you somewhere, bandages your cuts with his own calloused palms, presses his lips to your forehead to check whether you’re sick or not. In the face of all that, him holding your hand while running through a bustling crowd is hardly surprising.

Jeremiah is waving the pouch in the air hopelessly, trying to be noticed amongst the rest, when the vendor spots the two of you. “Xavier!” he calls happily. “Good timing, I have a fresh bowl ready just for you!”

“Unbelievable,” your chestnut-haired friend mutters under his breath, elbowing you as you laugh at his misfortune. Xavier steps closer, and you see him hold up two fingers to ask for more. When he points over, you wave to the vendor, who waves back before calling out instructions over his shoulder. In almost an instant, he has three steaming bowls filled with rice cakes ready for you to take. Your mouth almost waters at the sight.

Xavier picks up one of them to offer to you, which you take gratefully. Taking a few steps to the side to avoid crashing into anyone, the three of you find a relatively less crowded place to dig in.

Before you can take a heaping sip from the spoon, he gently takes your wrist and blows on the hot broth, meeting your eyes with a soft, concerned look. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” you remind him teasingly, but blow some air of your own onto the spoon before finally digging in. As the flavors explode inside your palate, you hold back a moan at how good it tastes.

“Miss Knight!” a high-pitched voice calls out, and you turn in time to see a tiny pink blur moving past people’s legs.

“Adelaide!” You hand your bowl to Jeremiah, who passes it to Xavier without even blinking, and kneel down to catch the blur in your arms. “Look at you, you look so pretty! I love your dress!”

The little girl’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Thank you! Miss Knight,” she bounces up and down eagerly, “I made something for you!” In her hands, she holds out a product of one of the several craft stalls set up for the children during the festival, a simple but elegant flower crown that she holds out like a grand prize. And from how your heart melts, it may as well be.

“Oh, how beautiful. Thank you so much. Would you put it on for me?” You tilt your head down, and she places it on with all the care a child of six years would have. You know you’ll have a difficult time getting it out in a while after the flowers tangle with your hair, but you don’t mind at all. Adelaide is your favorite person to visit whenever the three of you come to town, the daughter of the seamstress who makes your uniforms, and you’d do anything to see her smile the way she is now.

“You look like a princess,” she says in awe. Your cheeks warm, and you stand up, gesturing to the other two.

“Speaking of which, you remember Xavier and Jeremiah, don’t you?”

Her small hands grip your dress robes as she hides behind your legs, peeking out at them. Xavier, with both his hands occupied holding your bowl and his own, merely smiles encouragingly at her, while Jeremiah waves. “Hiya, Adelaide. Your dress looks awesome!”

From the corner of your eye, you see her face turn bright red, and right as you’re about to coo inwardly about her adorable little crush, you hear someone calling her name. All your heads turn, as an older blonde boy, out of breath, almost pushes past people in his rush to run to her.

“I told you not to run off like that! You could get lost—oh.” He stops short when he sees you, blinking as the color returns to his cheeks after his run. “H-hi there.”

“Hi, Neville.” You smile at Adelaide’s older brother, who’s almost always around when you visit. “Enjoying the celebration?”

“Definitely—I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you, I was helping Mother with her stall, a-and I didn’t know your master would give you the night off.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And the grandis knight is at the king’s side, he could hardly stay to train me on such an important night.”

“Right.” He stands with his hands on Adelaide’s shoulders, only staring, seemingly forgetting why he’s there in the first place. For a few moments, no words are said at all.

Right when you’re about to cough awkwardly, he snaps back to attention. “Um, would you like to dance?”

“She can’t,” Xavier says immediately, almost making you jump. He’s almost right behind you, looming over your shoulder and staring Neville straight in the eyes with an expression you’ve never seen on him before.

“Xavier!” The blonde bows clumsily (and unnecessarily) before straightening up, an unspoken question in his eyes. He looks between you and Xavier, and while you hadn’t been planning to agree to his request in the first place, you look at Xavier curiously as well. He’s never before dictated what you do during the celebration, whether you’re with him and Jeremiah or with some of the others in your class.

“She can’t,” he says again, a bit more softly, “she can’t, because…” He takes one glance at you, then down at the two bowls in his hand, then looks back up. “She’s already going to dance with Jeremiah.”

“What?” both you and your supposed dance partner question at the same time.

“You’ve been meaning to ask her to dance the whole night.” Xavier’s blue eyes fall on Jeremiah, with a pointed gaze. “This song is about to end, I think now is as good a time as any.”

“But I’m eating!” he whines, shaking the bowl in his hands as though to beg Xavier to take pity on him.

“I’d be happy to dance with her before Jeremiah steps in—” Neville offers, but he’s cut off by Xavier again, and this time his voice is icier, and his eyes are narrowed on Jeremiah who’s pouting at him.

“No, I think Jeremiah should do it now before it’s too late.”

Whatever message he’s trying to get across, Jeremiah clearly understands it, groaning and taking one last sip before grabbing your hand and tugging you to the main grounds. You’re only slightly irked that no one actually waited for your answer on whether you wanted to dance or not. But you’re more confused than anything else. Just a few minutes ago, both of them were fine, what could have happened so soon to make Xavier sound so cold?

“Have you really been meaning to ask me to dance all night?” you try asking, but Jeremiah only rolls his eyes.

“Please shut up. I already have to deal with His Majesty the Oblivious Idiot tonight, I can’t deal with both of you.”

“What are you talking about—”

“Miss Grandis Knight!” one of the bards, the violinist, waves to you. You’re momentarily distracted, smiling at her. It’s quite nice, if maybe a bit egotistical, to hear anyone call you what you’re trying so hard to be even when you haven’t achieved it yet. “Coming to dance?”

“I am!” you shout back cheerfully. “Give me a good one!”

She thinks for a few seconds, then makes a motion to the other musicians. Placing the violin against her collarbone delicately, she begins to pluck a familiar tune, one that has you lighting up and has the crowd cheering. Even Jeremiah grins as the two of you face each other, both of you well versed in proper dance etiquette from taking the same classes growing up.

First, he bows, mimicked by the other men in the large circle that’s formed, extending a hand to their dance partners. Then you, and the other ladies, curtsy, and with a light step you take his hand and begin the dance. The bards begin to sing the contagious melody, as you and Jeremiah step in place, back and forth, your arms extending then coming together, before he twirls you under his arm. Both of you are laughing for no real reason, perhaps aside from how frivolous this is compared to the fighting techniques you’re usually partaking in together.

The song builds, and builds, and his hands slip to your waist, helping you leap across him before he ducks his head dramatically. The violinist calls your name, pointing at you to sing the next verse. Through your giggles, your cheeks warm at the attention, but you oblige.

Swishing your dress around you, you bounce off Jeremiah, pointing at him with a flourish. “Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where—” Your eye catches Xavier’s, who’s watching you as though you’re the main event. With everyone else’s attention already on you, you’re not sure if you can possibly take any more, but something about his gaze makes your chest feel lighter, as though in this celebration of lights, the real light is the one staring at you, the one who has eyes for no one else. “There's fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there!”

The bards take over the song again, yet the spell doesn’t break. As Jeremiah twirls you again and hands you off to the next man, switching dance partners easily, you beckon Xavier towards you, urging him to join.

The night is young, you try to convey to him wordlessly, and I don’t want to be without you.

He steps forward, as you switch dance partners again. While you hadn’t meant to dance in the first place, it makes you feel lightheaded in a good way. The movements you have to do are light as opposed to rough and unforgiving on your muscles, and the alternating hands on your body handle you as gently as possible instead of trying to seek out all your weak points.

Your head tilts to the side, trying to see if Xavier entered the fray or not. You’ve lost sight of him, in a different part of the circle now, and you can’t search properly without breaking the formation of the dance and ruining everyone’s fun. The next person you spin into ends up being Neville, who chuckles shyly and tells you, “Not bad, Miss Grandis Knight!”

His moves are far more stiff than Jeremiah’s, but far be it from you to judge when he hasn’t had formal training. The important thing is that he tries, and you still have fun, and besides, the song is ending now. You’re almost back to where you started in the circle, just one more spin and—

A familiar, calloused hand grazes yours, skimming down the side of your arm. You gasp at this touch, far more coarse than the others, and the only one to leave you breathless, not least because it’s accompanied by the striking blue of Xavier’s eyes.

When he extends and brings you closer, it is more than just natural. Xavier is of royal blood, it is almost as if he was born to do this. Your feet step with his without you having to look down, so familiar with his balance and pace from years and years and years of sparring together. And not even once do you break away from his piercing gaze, because you’re nervous that if you do, he might just disappear.

The song comes to an end, with a final step forward and your hands on Xavier’s chest, and everyone erupts into cheers. The noise surrounding you makes the silence between you and him all the more deafening.

As the two of you simply stare at each other, breathing in sync, one of his hands reaches up, first resting on your cheek before then making its way up to gently adjust the flower crown that had slanted on your head while you were dancing. Once he fixes it, his head tilts down, just enough that his nose brushes against yours, and a smile forms on your lips.

“I am very pleased you joined, my liege.” Your eyes shine in gratitude.

Xavier opens his mouth to respond, and that’s exactly when Jeremiah chooses to slump against his shoulder, yawning. “Oh man, I’m spent. When do we go back to the academy?”

Xavier looks mildly disgruntled. “This is going to go on for hours,” you tell him, frowning, “we can’t leave now. Besides, the fireworks will start soon.”

“Another dance?” the crown prince suggests, sliding your palm into his.

Jeremiah gives him an unimpressed look. “Give it a rest.”

Stepping past the two of them, you look at all the tables mostly occupied by children being distracted by someone painting little butterflies and stars on their faces or the tiny flutes that are passed out for them to blow into. One of the pastry vendors is handing out baked goods for free, and while you didn’t actually get any chance to eat earlier, you want to find something to actually do. You’re not tired after dancing; on the contrary, now you’re restless and brimming with energy.

“Come on,” you declare readily, taking both their hands and pulling them into the ruckus. Your boys have little choice but to come along with you. Your feet will start to ache soon too, you’re sure. But for now, while they don’t, and while the way Xavier was staring at you is still burned into your mind, you want to enjoy yourself.

Once again, his fingers tangle with yours, clinging to your hand warmly—a stark difference to Jeremiah’s, which you have to grip onto harder to make sure he doesn’t get left behind. He whines and complains the whole time, telling you he’s sore all over and that the three of you should try and beat the rush by leaving early. You’re used to this routine every year, so you’re not fazed. Nor is he serious, because even though you could physically force him to stay, Jeremiah never tries to leave until you and Xavier are good and ready.

As you run, different students in your section call out to you and Jeremiah. People are just slightly more hesitant to address Xavier directly, but you’ve never understood such a thing. The last thing he is is intimidating. Well, maybe place a sword in his hand and he becomes slightly fearsome (to everyone except you). There’s still no need to pretend that Xavier ever struts around demanding everyone show him the highest respects. He’s the furthest thing from arrogant.

It makes you feel proud, really, knowing you’ll be in the service of Philos’ greatest king.

“Xavier!” someone finally calls out. For a second, you’re thrilled, until you see who it is, and your face falls.

The title of grandis knight comes with a certain authority. Not one that you actually have yet, of course, but people respect the current holder of the position, and as his prized mentee, that respect teeters down to you most of the time.

Keyword being most.

Just a few months back, you and Lillia had been close friends. You weren’t as close to her as you were to Xavier and Jeremiah, but she was still someone you confided in. You knew a few personal things about her, and she knew a few personal things about you. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t a guy, or your trainer, or one of the older students. Just another girl around your age training to become a Lightseeker.

But you should have realized that the respect you garnered by swearing to be the future king’s bodyguard came with a reasonable risk of betrayal as well. And yes, betrayal is a strong word. Technically, nothing happened. There is no accusation you can level at her. At least not without someone calling you hysterical, and that’s hardly needed when you’re already a woman seeking the highest position in the court, second only to the king himself.

It had come down to one night, with just you and her sitting and talking about nothing in particular, when she had leaned in and asked you something.

“So do you like anyone?”

It had been a quiet night, and the two of you had been the only ones awake, holed up in an old classroom, so you hadn’t thought any consequences could come from speaking truthfully—or at least, what you had genuinely believed to be the truth.

“Not really.” You’d shrugged, leaning back on the desk you were sitting on, putting your weight on your palms. “Most of the people in our section aren’t really my type.”

“Really?” Lillia had smiled slyly. “Not even Xavier?”

Your nose had wrinkled—not in disgust, just confusion. “Xavier? Why?”

“What do you mean? You two spend all your time together. You’re always sparring. Doesn’t romantic tension build up after something like that?”

“Maybe if we were equally matched,” you’d huffed, shaking your head, “I always beat him, I certainly don’t feel any tension. Besides, he’s going to be king. And I’m trying my best to be his grandis knight. We could never be in a relationship even if we wanted to be.”

“So you don’t have any interest in him?” she’d asked, a little more forcefully. You’d thought nothing of it at the time.

“I mean…” Your stomach had twisted a bit uncomfortably and you’d averted your gaze. “If you had a sword to my neck, if I had to choose someone…”

And it had forced you to think about it. A far off scenario, if he wasn’t going to be the king, or if you weren’t going to be the grandis knight, or maybe both. It had been difficult to see Prince Xavier as anything else, but…it wasn’t impossible. If you were both just students, or partners, or even if you worked at that bakery that he loved to frequent.

If you were just a normal person, and he was as common as everyone else, the first thing you’d thought you’d notice about him would be his eyes. It’s what you notice about him most of the time regardless. He has nice eyes. They have a sincerity in them that most people lack. And he looks at you a lot, so you would know.

He’s not bad to look at either. And he’s kind. A good leader. With a precious heart. And skilled fingers—

Blinking out of the hypnotic thoughts you’d fallen into, you’d hidden your suddenly flustered state as best you could and simply answered, “I suppose if I had to choose to love someone, I’d choose Xavier.”

And that had been that. Or so you thought. Everything had been alright, at least.

Until the next morning, when you’d walked out of your class and seen Lillia’s arms around Xavier’s neck.

For a second, it had felt like Philos stopped turning on its axis.

It wasn’t like Xavier had reciprocated. But that was only because he had been too polite to shove her away, and it would’ve been inappropriate to engage in anything further. Crown prince or not, he was still a guy, and obviously a pretty girl pressed into him in such a way would interest him.

And Lillia had caught your eye, and smiled triumphantly, as though to say well, if you don’t want him, then…

Even though you hadn’t said you didn’t want him. Well, you had said you weren’t interested, yes. But you had also told her that if someone held a blaster to your face if you didn’t cherish someone, then you would cherish Xavier. And maybe that hadn’t been a confession, but it hadn’t been you giving her permission to pursue him either. Not that she needed your permission, because it wasn’t like you had a claim on him, and it wasn’t supposed to make your chest burn that he, even for a second, looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.

You hadn’t confided your weak feelings to anyone else after that.

“Hi, Lillia,” Xavier says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize until now that the three of you had approached her. “What’s this booth for?”

“Oh, it’s amazing,” she gushes, wrapping her hands around his arm and tugging. Your eye twitches. “She’s a fortuneteller. For just a few copper pieces, she’ll answer any one question you want to know about your life.”

“Really?” he asks softly, and all your gazes shift to the woman who bows her head to the prince, sitting in her chair with a purple drape over the small table in front of her. “I’m not sure what I’d want to ask.”

Lillia smirks in a way that makes you uneasy. “Well, I asked about my future partner.”

“Partner? For sparring?”

“For marrying, you dolt,” Jeremiah snorts, “c’mon, Xav, sit down and let’s see which unlucky soul gets to be queen of Philos.”

You’re nervous that he will, and you’re nervous that you won’t like the answer. Because it wouldn’t be you, you’re sure of that. And you shouldn’t want it to be you. That doesn’t mean you think he should be with her, either. What business did Lillia have pursuing Xavier, at any rate? She was training to be a Lightseeker too—but of course, the average knight did not have the same restrictions the grandis knight did—not that it matters because you have no say regardless—

But Xavier shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. My future partner will simply be…whoever the kingdom deems the loveliest of the lot.”

Your heart both inflates and deflates at his response. On one hand, you hadn’t wanted him to have his fortune read, for fear of heartbreak. On the other hand, a part of you had foolishly hoped that he would have the same option to love like everyone else did.

“You should do it,” Jeremiah nudges you with his elbow. Before you can protest, Lillia’s eyes light up.

“Oh, yes, you should! Here, come sit.”

“Um, I don’t know.” Warily, you gaze over at the fortuneteller, who merely gives you a serene smile. “Is she going to give me someone’s name?”

“No, just a description. She told me my future partner would be someone of noble descent.” Lillia beams, showing off her too-perfect teeth, and suddenly you feel inadequate. You know what she’s implying, even if Xavier doesn’t. After all, there are very few people who would match that description.

So, not wanting to seem like a coward, because the king’s sword is anything but a coward, you step forward, sitting down in the leathery chair. You’re about to reach for your pocket to take out the copper pieces, when Xavier reaches over and places them in the fortuneteller’s palm, giving you an encouraging look that makes your heart sink. Perhaps you should have listened to Jeremiah earlier and called it a night.

When the woman takes your hand, she closes her eyes, running her thumb back and forth against your calluses. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you try not to move a muscle. For some reason, it feels like if you so much as twitch, you’ll get the wrong answers, and you’re not even sure what the right answers are.

Her eyes open, piercing yours with a startling gaze. “Fascinating,” she murmurs, “I see three things about your lover.”

To hear that word—lover, instead of spouse or partner, makes your entire face feel hot. Lillia giggles, saying something under her breath that you don’t catch but makes you feel violent tendencies nonetheless.

“First, he is someone held in very high regard by all around him.”

Oh no.

“Second, a longsword is his weapon of choice.”

Oh no.

“And third, you have known him all your life.”

Well, she may as well have just screamed Xavier’s name at the top of her lungs.

Everyone is silent for a few seconds. There is a heavy pause in the air, because who else could she be referring to? Who else fits that exact description? All Lillia was told was she’d be with someone of noble descent, which could be at least a few people. The painful beating in your chest is onset because there is only one person that your fortune fits.

You know it, he knows it, even Jeremiah and Lillia know it.

So you do the only thing you can do. You calmly stand up, offer the fortuneteller a tight-lipped smile, and turn on your heel and run.

Behind you, a few different people call your name, though you note distinctly that Xavier isn’t one of them. After that, even if other people are still recognizing you and trying to get your attention, you can barely think straight enough to identify their voices, let alone respond. You run, out of the town square, out of the festival, out of the sight of anyone who could possibly perceive you.

You run as far as you can before your legs start aching, which, unfortunately for you, takes a long time with your endurance training. By the time you feel even a twinge resembling pain, you’ve already made it a far distance away from the celebration, near the seamstress’ shop.

With gritted teeth, you heave yourself over the fence, knowing you’re more than welcome in her garden. It’s luscious, orange and lavender chrysanthemums in the center stealing the spotlight from all the other flowers. Instead of going towards them, you curl up next to the lilies, because you already feel unremarkable enough.

It’s not that you think Xavier would be disgusted by you. The two of you are friends—but that’s exactly it, the major problem of having feelings for him. Besides the fact that you are supposed to brandish your sword in his name, you cannot like him because you’d rather die than lose your best friend. You couldn’t even say how long you’ve known him, but you do know that he’s the best part of your life. Not for anyone would you bow your head. Not for anyone would you lay your life down. You’ve observed Xavier for years and years and there is not a single other person in the royal family that you would follow into any battle, through any world, past any planet.

You groan, burying your face in between your knees. At some point in between the months Lillia first asked you about him and now, you’ve gone beyond just considering him as more than a friend. You’ve even got past having a measly crush on him.

You’re in love with Xavier, and it’s awful.

Breathing slowly, you gaze up at the night sky, where the fireworks have still not made their appearance. The wind teases the flowers around you, making them tilt a little to the left, which is oddly how you feel too. Not uprooted, but bent, just like a flower.

With a blade of grass in between your fingers, you follow the direction the flowers are blowing in, only to find yourself staring at shining ceruleans.

“Xavier!” you gasp, eyes widening with a start. You move to stand as a reflex, but he raises a single hand, and you stop.

There isn’t a single bead of sweat on his face. He is breathing a little raggedly, and his uniform is stained with some sap he must’ve not been able to avoid from the bushes on the way over. His face—well, his face is pristine as always, there isn’t a moment when the prince of Philos looks anything less than dreamy. But it’s not his features you’re gazing at, but the concerned expression upon them, directed straight at you, with caring eyes and pinched brows.

You almost want to cry just at the thought you’ve worried him.

“Are you alright?” His voice is quiet, cautious, fragile. Like you may break if he’s too forceful in his questioning.

“Yes, fine,” you reply automatically, though you suppose you now have to make up a story for why on Philos you ran away like a child, especially because he sits next to you, knees raised in the same manner as yours.

“I was merely…overwhelmed, by the crowd.” The explanation sounds weak even as your tongue speaks it, but you cannot think of any other reason for your actions. At least this is easier than the truth. Anything is easier than the truth.

For a few seconds, there is silence, and as uncomfortable as this already is, you can’t bear it. So you turn to look at him, and you realize with burning cheeks you realize he is staring right back. You don’t even think he’s looked at the blossoming flowers even once; his head seems to be fixated in your direction.

“I know you constantly score better than me,” Xavier says softly, “but I am not foolish.”

With a hesitant hand, as though he’s asking for permission, he reaches up to once again adjust the flower crown on your head. Your heart falls, and you really should’ve known better to think Xavier could not read you like an open book, especially after a fortuneteller quite literally did read you like an open book.

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.”

“Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—”

“I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.”

“Stop,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

Your lower lip trembles. Never once did you take him for the cruel type. There is no rule nor reasoning for this, to utterly expose your feelings even more and mock you for them, and if you sit here any longer you’re afraid you will begin to sob, and then not only will your friendship with Xavier be at risk, but your future position as well. The grandis knight cannot be weak. The grandis knight cannot shed tears for such silly matters as love.

To preserve your role, to preserve your reputation and your dignity, you make to stand, to run even farther this time, but Xavier holds your wrist before you can, tugging you back to face him. There is no cruelty in his expression, in fact there is a tenderness as though he is somehow touched by your very clear devotion to him.

His finger tilts your chin up, unwittingly making you demand a respect you don’t believe you deserve right now. His brow is pinched, as though he’s upset that you would let anyone, even him, turn you soft as a dandelion.

“I also know,” he breathes, “that this kingdom finds you incredibly lovely.”

The world seems to stop.

“As…” Xavier’s hand rests itself on your cheek, and the most beautiful smile lights up his face as he murmurs, “Do I.”

You lean in the same time he does, and faintly you hear fireworks erupt as you kiss the prince of Philos for the first time.

The world is quiet, and so, so, so loud. Blood rushes to your face and to your ears, and you ignore it by placing both your hands on his cheeks, whimpering softly at how good he tastes. Every burning feeling and sensation you’ve felt in his presence these past few months, and really, your entire life, all seem to explode in this moment. The world is blue, and white, and Xavier.

His lips move so gently against yours, once again acting as though you are fragile, but it feels good this time, the idea of being something so precious as to require care for him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your cheek, you can barely pull away from him to assure him that he can be more forceful if he wishes, more wanting, more greedy.

“Please,” he whispers against your lips, asking for what you aren’t sure, but you nod your head regardless, because you’d think you’d give him your very soul if he were to ask.

When you do pull back, he is looking at you so longingly it makes you more breathless than even dancing you did earlier. His gray-blonde hair nearly conceals his eyes, so you brush it from his face, breath hitching at his proximity. You’ve always known that he’s the apple of everyone’s eye, but you’ve never had the privilege to admire him so closely before.

“I don’t need a fortuneteller to tell me who my partner is.” Xavier rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing. “Whether it’s for sparring, or marriage, or anything else. You are the only one I want with me, through everything.”

You’re surprised you can even muster words when you shyly respond, “Likewise, my liege.”

His eyes shine, and the two of you finally look up to admire the fireworks bursting across the sky in incredible explosions of color. They pale in comparison to the eruption within you, but they are magical nonetheless, and you lean your head against his shoulder to watch.

A gentle kiss is placed on top of your head. “I know we only celebrate this once a year. It is a special time. Still…” He meets your gaze again, and the corners of his lips turn upwards. Tonight, there is only you and him now, you’re sure of it. “Would you mind terribly if we were to ignore the fireworks?”

Maybe one day you will learn to resist him. You sincerely doubt it, though.

“Not at all. But the seamstress and her kids will probably be back soon.” You place a begrudging hand on his chest, not wanting to stop him, but trying to act proper regardless. “Neville checks on the garden every night. He might see us.”

Xavier seems to consider this for a second.

“Oh well,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you again, “what a shame.”

He doesn’t sound very sorry at all, and amidst the soft glow of moonlight, you surrender to him, lost in your very own little celebration of lights.

a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime i’ve written a character x reader story where they’re at a party and they dance together but then leave to have a nice moment by themselves i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

#love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #xavier x mc #xavier #lads #xavier fic #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #l&ds fic #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #valkyrie stories

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