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smolvenger · 2 years ago

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The Cure for Virginity

Robert Laing x fem! Reader Oneshot

Summary: Charlotte thinks you have been a virgin for too long. You should take advantage of a certain fellow tenant at the High-Rise, she says. The best amenity in the building- Doctor Robert Laing.

Word Count: 8K

Warnings: 18+, SMUT Y'ALL (First Time, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, Doctor kink, Virginity kink, dirty talk), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, and loss, Richard Wilder being a prick. But some moments of fluff and romance.

A/N: My first time (heh) ever writing for High-Rise! I hope you guys like it! Comments, Reblogs, Private Messages, and asks about my work are always appreciated!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @villainousshakespeare(I hope y'all don't mind me tagging away)

"You should be adding on the vows of poverty and obedience!"

“I’m not a nun, Charlotte!” you shot back.

“At this point, you might be!”

You huffed as you kicked your feet in the water of the pool. It was packed with people that afternoon. It was one of the new joys of the place. Even the janitors glided by to clean the floors with mops on their shoes as if they were skates, smiling.

You were getting to know the residents one by one. So far, you had befriended some of the women. Like sweet, quiet Helen with her soft brown hair and a baby bump that was overdue. Helen sat on a chair. She read a magazine as her kids played Marco Polo in the pool. And Charlotte- tall, slender, with dark hair and always a laugh in her smile. But now, the laugh was at you as she waded through the waters.

“Please shut up, we’re in a public space! There are kids everywhere! Can we discuss the sale on baked goods they have in the grocery store here instead?” you begged.

“They might as well learn! Gave Toby the Talk when he was five!” Charlotte shot back.

“Uh-Uhm- anyone watch any good shows on the television lately?” you then changed desperately.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. She shook the water from her ears, her beautiful black hair covered by a white swimming cap. She went up to the pool’s edge and folded her arms over it, resting her chin on them.

“This place has everything for you, Y/N- A grocery store, a spa, a school, a gym, and even a sex life if you want…” she continued.

You splashed the water on her face, and she laughed as she held her arms up in defense.

“But the thing is…I know someone for you. Someone more than able to take care of it…” Charlotte began.

“I’m pretty sure any average penis can do the job! And why do you care so much? It’s a personal choice about my body- none of your beeswax!” you retorted.

She raised one of her eyebrows as she swam to you.

“Not even oral?” she asked.

She would not be silenced by a refusal. You leaned in.

“No!” you whispered.

She pulled herself to the edge. Water splashed as she emerged to sit on the edge next to you.

“Y/N, I have a tip for you- two words!” she said.

She held up a fist and uncurled two fingers with the first and last names.

“Robert Laing.”

“Oh my god, you’re setting me up?” you sighed.

She shrugged.

“Why not? His tongue reached places I never thought it could!” she recalled.

Your jaw dropped.

“Are you seriously setting me up with your boyfriend?!” you cried, leaning forward.

“No! He’s not…” she answered.

“So, he’s your ex…you’re setting me up with your ex!?” you questioned.

“It was a fling- long over now. We’ve moved on. But we’re on good terms! All the women love him for a reason- he’s incredible! You’re going to lose it once, Sister Y/N, it might as well be someone who knows how to do the job. Listen to me-“

She pointed up to the above floors.

“Men have the brothel. Women have Laing.”

She flipped her legs up and walked over to the chairs.

“What do you think, Helen?!” she prodded.

You looked over to see Helen as she reclined on the pool chair. She tipped her lovely face from her magazine.

“Of Robert Laing?” she asked.

“Yeah-in bed!” Charlotte asked.

“Incredible! Nothing like it!!” Helen agreed.

Are you kidding me? Oh god- this place has a gigolo! you thought.

You forced your jaw to shut. High-Rise life wasn’t like normal life. It was a culture shock for you. Here, any proper rules about what was good or bad were out the window. People lived as they wanted and did what they wanted. There was no consequence. Each night, in the middle of the Twentieth floor, you could hear giggles and laughter. You passed people groaning and screaming with sex from their rooms. If not in the halls. The loud music from the constant partying was everywhere the second it was dark. You even heard housewives discussing what drugs they inhaled as they carried brown grocery bags.

“He’s a Shy boy. At First. But if you're alone with him in a bedroom…well, it’s a different man. But it’s not so intense that your first time with him would be too much. Unless you want to try anal,” Charlotte informed you.

You shot a look at Charlotte. Kids ran around the pool and tried to cartwheel into the water by you.

But Helen nodded and smiled. She spoke with the cherubic cheerfulness of a Disney princess.

“Oh yes, even anal with Robert is fantastic!” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Besides, you had more pressing matters. There was a party that Royal’s wife, Ann, invited you to. A full 18th-century style ball complete with costumes! And what luck that she had costumes in your size available to rent!

Your gown was a lighter color- a creamy white, right in a shade that flattered you. Every guest was dressed in white or cream in their Rococo attire, like you. Your stays loosened now that they adjusted to your body. There were peals and beading on the bodice. Your large skirt swished as you moved, enjoying a fresh glass of champagne in hand.

You went by to try and make small talk when you felt something hit your skirt and on the ground. It was a bottle of wine. Fallen to the floor. A baritone voice behind you muttered “shit!”

Your stays prevented you from slouching, you squatted down to get it. You saw a long, elegant hand also reach for it. You looked up to see a young man who was not in 18th-century wear but a modern suit. In the black jacket and pants. He stuck out like a sore thumb against all the white of the guests.

But Holy Crap he was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, a soft crop of hair a color between blonde and red, and his suit held a tall, lean frame.

“Oh- I’m so sorry! Did I get your dress?” he asked.

You both got up. Your stomach flipping, you felt self-conscious. The cut of the gown and the stays were better than any push-up bra. It was bumping up your cleavage. You felt his eyes flutter down there and then jolt back up. Your hands clasped and you brought them up to your neck in both surprise and a surge of modesty.

“No, you didn’t at all!” you insisted.

You glanced at the bottle of Riesling he had- you liked that flavor. You enjoyed getting it from many an evening at the grocery store. Especially when your bank account was low. It was affordable, crisp, and delicious.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

You gave him your name. He reached his hand with a smile.

“I’m Laing. Doctor Robert Laing.”

Doctor Robert Laing? That Doctor Laing?! The gigolo!? That was who the ladies were discussing?! You thought.

You stared at him, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Oh! Doctor Laing! I heard of you,” you replied out loud.

You didn’t need to tell him the context though. You offered your hand and offered it for him to shake.

“Good things, I hope!” he added with a wink that made your heart stop.

He accepted your hand, his hands felt ice cold, but soft.

“And how do you know Royal? He wouldn’t invite you if you didn’t know him,” Robert asked.

“Not well. I do see his wife around. Got to chat with her. We wound up getting along. She invited me here. She insisted I go out and get to know the people here…moved in two weeks ago,” you explained.

“Guess I’m still new here too-Month and a half!” Robert chatted.

“What room?” you asked.

“2505,” he answered.

You got to about talking where you came from as he began to light a limp cigarette, puffing at it lightly. He was very polite. His eyes were on you, listening more than talking. You discussed what you thought of the High-Rise. If you have been to the spa yet. Who you met. You then discussed the music playing at the party. You told him the orchestra was playing ABBA. One of your favorite bands!

“Y/N, that glass is already empty- could I fetch you another drink?” he offered.

“Sure thing!”

Right as Robert turned to get your drink, a burly, bearded man in costume blocked him.

“Hey there, dickhead- this is a themed party!” he declared.

Robert Laing could hardly say a word before the brute half-picked him up, dragging him off. He held onto the Doctor’s collar like a cat carrying a kitten. Guests seeing him pass by snickered at Robert’s modern attire. But you followed.

“Hey! Put him down! He didn’t do anything!” you tried to protest.

You beat your fists at Jerkass’s arm, but he swiped you away. He ignored you as he grabbed the wine bottle from Robert’s hand. He tossed the handsome doctor into the elevator roughly. Then pushed the button for it to close.

The Doctor locked eyes with you as the doors slid shut and he vanished. His face looked sad and scared. Far from the swaggering sex maniac you heard of. “Cheap bastard” the Jerkass cursed at the bottle before tossing it on the white fur rug.

Royal’s dog, a white German Shepherd with a bow tie, approached the bottle to sniff it. You bent your knees and picked it up. Yes, it was a cheap brand. But it tasted good. And Robert was trying to be a good guest.

You hid the bottle behind your back until you snuck into the bedroom. The bed was piled with the coats and purses of the guests. You planted it in your large purse by the pillows amongst everyone’s things. Then you turned back to enjoy the party. After an hour, you left, saying you had work early tomorrow. You got your purse and punched the lift to the Twenty-Fifth Floor.

You went to room 2505 and knocked. Robert opened, bewildered. A strand of his hair had flown out and he lacked his jacket. Not that it detracted his looks, not at all.

“Here- your wine,” you offered.

You pulled the bottle from your purse and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he answered.

“Are you okay-You look like you’ve been in a fight!” you asked.

He let out a deep sigh, pressing a hand to his head.

“No- lift broke for a bit,” he explained.

“Oh, that’s miserable! As if being kicked out wasn’t bad enough!” you commented.

He looked down at the bottle. He turned to put it on a chair and then returned to you, leaning closer against the doorframe.

“You seemed to be happy there. I’m sorry I had to make you leave,” he apologized.

“It’s alright. I came to wear this costume. Nothing more.” you added, giving the skirt a swish with your hand.

He leaned a little closer.

“You do look beautiful in it,” he complimented.

Lightning struck you. The edges of your vision had stars and you tried to even process if what you heard was real. He took a step aside, gesturing to his flat.

“But that wine…it’s not as good to drink alone. How about…how about we split it?” he offered.

You froze where you were. Your breath stopped, becoming a lump in the middle of your throat. Your hands turned sweaty.

“I don’t have any food in my stomach for that much booze…” you answered.

His eyebrows lowered, yet there was an honesty in his eyes. Even innocence. No guile to have his way with you. Not like Helen’s husband, Wilder. Wilder would charge at you. Making offers of his bed or the nearest surface. Not caring when you said no. You’d slap him and flee before he could grab you.

The soft way Robert looked at you suddenly made you panic with regret. The words flew out of you like a burp.

“Serve it with dinner and I’ll call it a deal!” you blurted.

Shit, Shit, shit, what the fuck was I thinking? you thought.

Your pulse raced. That was too forward, too bold. But then he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll make it. You don’t have to provide a thing.”

Time stopped. You could hardly believe it.

“Then it’s settled. Are you free tomorrow?” you asked.

“Yes,” Robert confirmed.

“What time?” you asked.

“Let’s say Seven.”

“It’s done. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

He smiled at you.

“I look forward to it,” he answered.

You said your goodbyes. The second you got back to your flat, you threw yourself onto the couch in a pile of white silk of your dress. You put a pillow to your face and screamed into it, kicking your legs in giddy joy. Your maturity level descending.

A date! A date! I have a date! I asked a hot guy out! And he said yes!!!! Oh my god, oh my god, how am I even going to sleep tonight??? ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The next day, you were out of coffee and bread and headed down to the grocery store. But who should also be there, wheeling a cart, but Helen. She waved at you, gesturing to you to come near her.

“What’s up, Y/N- there’s a look on your face! Was Royal’s fun?” she asked.

“Helen-I met Laing last night,” you reported.

She gasped and then smiled.

“See- lovely fellow! And a looker too, isn’t he?” she teased.

You looked down at your hands on the grocery cart with a smile that confirmed- Yes, he was handsome. Helen kept giggling, a blush on her cheeks. Then you returned up at her, an idea making you frown.

“And are you sure he’s available? I don’t want to make some poor woman miserable, even by accident!” you asked.

“Yes- not committed to anybody…he’s been around. But no attachments. If there was, I’d know!” she confirmed.

Your carts paused in the cereal aisle. You took a deep breath.

“I’m having dinner with him tonight” you announced.

“What! That’s wonderful! You did the work for us!” she chirruped, clapping her hands together.

“What do you mean ‘work’?” you prodded.

“Charlotte and I had a chat, and we had a plan- we were going to set you up with him. I’d go to you and tell you everything about him. Charlotte would go to Robert’s and sing every bit of your praises. Then you’d both agree to meet up or exchange phone numbers!”

You gave a smile and shrugged.

“Thank you-I appreciate the thought! But I’m able to find my own men and set up my own dates of course!” you replied.

You pushed your carts to a corner to talk. You then explained how you met him and the party. Returning the wine bottle and everything.

“He’s even going to cook- isn’t that thoughtful?!” she commented.

“I’m just nervous about it. Dates make me nervous,” you confided.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Helen comforted.

A lady passed by with sunglasses over her eyes and a bold shade of lipstick. Passerby’s from the aisles asked for her autograph. She half-smiled and signed notepads with a flourish. The dog in her cart leaned his nose close at them to get a whiff, wagging his tail.

“Think of this- you’ll have a lovely dinner at minimum. And at maximum- you won’t be walking when I see you tomorrow,” she reasoned, raising a hand to rub her pregnant belly.

You felt your entire face get hot with embarrassment.

“I’m not the type to kiss on the first date, much less shag! It’s only a dinner-not a wedding night! But I’ll let you know how it goes. So don’t get your hopes up! And Helen, And that goes for Charlotte too! I know you’ll tell her!” you insisted.

Both of you wheeled your carts to get in the long line for the cashier.

“But I still have to…impress him,” you blubbered. Could you even live up to the other women here?

Helen rubbed your back, “If he didn’t like you, he’d say no. Y/N, you know he’s nice! Just wear your best dress-that should make you feel confident!”

You let out a deep exhale. Your carts moved forward in the line.

“Part of me is tempted to cancel. Save myself the embarrassment. Or the heartbreak,” you confessed.

Helen leaned into you.

“Charlotte says he sunbathes in the afternoons. Naked. Get to her place and look down if you want a peek at what to look forward to. That might convince you to go forward.” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Holy shit, this can’t be real. I can’t be doing this, you thought.

Your heart was racing, your finger shaking as you pressed the button to go to the Twenty-Fifth floor. Up it went, up, up, up. You could chicken out and run away, but no- that was being a coward. Didn’t you want this in the first place? Hell, you were the one who flat-out asked him!

What if it all went wrong? What if then he hated you? What if you hated him? Yes, he was incredibly handsome but handsome men could be total pricks. Wilder was as handsome as they come. But the man was a slimy, creepy rat bastard you wanted to shove off the highest balcony. If only Helen would divorce his sorry ass by now. She didn’t deserve him. But what if Wilder was a sweet guy back then? What if when Helen began dating him, he wasn’t like that? People change. What if Robert seemed okay at first and then turned into an asshole who broke your heart or hurt you? What then?

But all that was for later. Now was now.

It’s a free dinner, at least you thought remembering Helen’s words.

Taking a deep breath, the elevator dinged, and you stepped out to the hall.

You checked a hand mirror in your pocket to make sure your makeup was right, and that there weren’t any noticeable stains in your teeth. Your dress was blush pink, showing your shoulders and snug on your body with a flared skirt. Pink, how ironic- that mix of innocent white and passionate red. You had jewelry and earrings complete with heels. The heating broke throughout for a few hours, and you wore a coat over your dress from the chill of the building.

There it was, checking the notepad you had in your pocket and then double-checking, it was the right room- 2505. You entered, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

You knocked on the door and saw him. Your body froze at the sight of him. If this was real. If he was real. He was in a white dress shirt with a grey jacket and black tie. So simple, but so becoming. His eyes were soft when they looked at you, like the gaze of a doe. This couldn’t be the wild sex maniac the women of the High-Rise gossiped about. The man they went to for sex as they went to the spa for massages. Or was he?

“Hello, Robert….” You greeted.

He opened it.

“Please…come in…can I take your coat?”

“Yes…”

You sucked in the air when you felt him behind you, his hands raised up. Taking your coat. They were gentle as they brushed against your shoulders. You felt his eyes drink you in from behind. Seeing your dress. Seeing the outline of your body. But you did not raise an arm or hand to cover yourself, you let him look. He walked over and put the coat over a hook on the wall.

“Welcome, Y/N. You look lovely again. Make yourself at home,” he greeted with a smile.

Your chest fluttered as you mumbled a “thank you.”

You noticed the room- one wall had a tiny square of grey paint on it. But the other walls were tall and brown with rectangular columns- sleek and modern. A few boxes were in the back. There was a photo pinned to one wall of him in a casual shirt smiling and hugging a young woman. You thought you glimpsed a bed in one corner and promptly turned your head away to ignore it. Near the dinner table was a sliding glass door to a balcony like every house as the sun had finally set and it darkened to nighttime. The room was lit a little low- not garishly bright. But not too dark.

You saw him in his lovely suit and his tie. You smiled at him.

“Thank you so much, Robert. The place looks wonderful,” you complimented.

He gallantly pulled out the chair at the table for you. You made a smile too big for your face and your stomach fluttered. Robert made his way to the other end. There was the Riesling along with a small salad bowl and a meal.

“Well, what brought you here?” you asked.

Robert’s hand froze, fork in mid-air.

“It was my…my sister,” he answered.

“She invited you?”

“No, she died…” he replied.

This man at the party held himself like a demigod, a touch of the divine within him. But at the mention of his sister, here you were with the mortal half.

“Oh, Robert…that’s awful…” you said.

He began to blink. He then reached into his pocket, lit a cigarette with shaking hands, and began to smoke. His hands were still shaking after a several puffs with the cigarette. You saw a tear in the duct of his eye. You got up, went to your coat pockets, retrieved tissues, and hurried over to give him one.

“Here…here…” you said.

You heard sniffs. You then handed him a glass of water from the kitchen, and he began to gulp it up. His eyes were puffy with quiet tears. He then glanced at the photo.

“We were close. And she was the nicest, most genuine person you could imagine. She had a full life…but not a long one…” he continued.

“Robert, that’s still a tragedy…and you should grieve how you want….” You comforted, leaning closer to him.

Looking down at your hands, you saw they fidgeted. Glancing around the room, you wondered if now the right time was to even have this dinner. You retreated two steps from him.

“Do you need some space? I can go back to-”

“No! No- please! Please stay…” Robert pleaded, leaning forward in his chair, a hand up to stop you.

“Alright, I will.”

You returned to the chair and sat down.

“Sometimes, I’m over her. I think I’ve stopped crying…then it hits me…I’m sorry, Y/N, you weren’t expecting a crying mess….” He confided.

“I’m pretty sure losing a beloved sibling would make any person into a crying mess…” you reasoned.

He then looked at the dinner…

“We should start. The food might get cold,” he reasoned.

You sat down and began with the rolls in a basket on the table.

“So, tell me…tell me more about your job! I know you’re a doctor,” you queried.

“Well, I’m a physiologist. And a professor…” he said.

As he dug into the salad, his shoulders began to lower. His lips curled to a small smile as he looked at you.

“Not just a medical doctor? That’s impressive. That requires lots of studying to get approved!” you praised, nodding your head.

“I teach physiology to medical students in training. How to do autopsies. One poor chap flat out fainted once in the middle last month.”

“Well, can’t blame him! I see too much gore in a horror movie, and I have to cover my eyes!” you commented.

“It’s the human body! It’s fascinating!” he said, gesticulating with his hands.

He grinned wider and set the cigarette on an ashtray on the table. The salad and main course and side dishes vanished. Time passed easily talking to him. One topic you discussed excitedly so much that you had to freeze your hands from knocking over the Riesling bottle placed next to you. He lit a new one, and began to absent-mindedly smoke, but kept his eyes on you. You sipped on your glass and realized he had finished this.

“Oh, the bottle…it’s on the other side,” he commented.

“Here, let me bring it over. Would you like me to pour it for you?” you offered.

“Yes…”

You went over and poured the glass. He picked up the cigarette, the smoke curling up to twist and melt into the air. Then he looked at you with reverence above him. It was a nice picture. Domestic even. Your gaze met his and you pulled up the wine bottle before you could overflow his glass by accident.

Feminism was leaving your mind like filtering sand each second you laid eyes on him. Could you see yourself as his wife already? Was it too soon?

You could see yourself waking up next to him. Fixing him coffee in the morning. Adjusting his tie before he went to work, asking for him to tell you every bit of it as you gave him a demure kiss on the cheek. When it came to the time, he would be back home, you’d dress up with lipstick, skirts, pearls, and perfume just like now. You would have dinner prepared on the table or a hot bath too for good measure. He would enter and greet you with one of the smiles that made you flutter and a deeper kiss than that in the morning. You would pour him a drink when he came in. He’d praise the dinner but then look at you. Saying he’d rather devour you. Then pick you up. Carry you to the kitchen countertop. Shove away the leftover ingredients. He’d make hickeys across your pearl-draped neck. Then he'd push you to lie down on it. He’d lift your skirt, drop his pants and fuck you senselessly on the countertop until….

The footsteps of people out in the hall snapped you back. You felt your entire body clench, arousal already soaking your panties. A pit in your stomach with the food. You made yourself swallow the fantasy out. That was for later. You had to be present. Your body felt hot like it had a fever. Returning to your seat, you poured yourself another sip of Riesling. Grateful that he chilled it. Robert turned his head to the outside balcony, gesturing to it.

“Ah- look outside! It’s beautiful tonight! Sometimes I can hear the crickets…or see the stars,” he suggested.

The two of you went out to the balcony and looked up and out. You saw some stars, whatever wasn’t blocked by the fog of London nearby. Crickets chirruped from below. Both of you admired it for a few minutes.

He turned to you, flicking his cigarette off the end. It was like a tiny, red star before blinking into nothing. As if it dissolved into the night air before hitting the pavement.

“Y/N, thank you for earlier…and for returning the bottle…” he said with a smile.

“You’re welcome. They were dicks to you. And it’s a good wine. And thanks for opening up about your sister-I think there are half-off roses at the store. I’ll send some to you in her honor, just tell me a color…” you offered.

“I should be the one getting you flowers. I had work and had to cook the food- ran out of time,” he explained.

“Well, I’m not the one who needs it!” you quipped.

He chuckled warmly. You realized he was leaning closer. And you could pick up his scent- cigarette smoke and cologne mixed up in the drink that was Doctor Robert Laing. His eyes hypnotized you. His face, smooth and handsome, transfixed you. You felt his hands on your waist. You felt him lifting you up, sitting you down on hard brick and mortar. But your gaze never left his. You looked down and he up.

“Robert, I…” you began.

But the words stopped. Your thoughts stopped.

His eyes went to your lips. Then he touched your cheek. That cold, soft hand. He began to lean forward.

Oh God, Oh god, oh god, ShitFuckShitFuck, it was about to happen! You thought in a thrilled panic.

Before you could close your eyes and seal the kiss, you felt a gust of cold wind on your back. You were so transfixed by him that you didn’t register where he put you. Blinking and then turning around, you saw he had set you to sit on the balcony. Right over the twenty-five floors below to the hard concrete. A push of his arms and you were a goner.

You let out a scream.

You wrapped your arms around him. You clung onto him like a koala and buried your face into his neck.

“Robert! Please!” you cried.

You could feel his smile, but he wrapped his arms around you. His hands were on your back, supporting you, keeping you safe.

“Okay- it’s okay, I got you,” he assured.

“Take me off- now!” you insisted.

He wrapped his arms around you, picking you up like you were as light as a toy doll and setting you down. He wiped his hands on his sides.

“I’m so sorry. Some of the women liked that. I should have asked,” he apologized.

“It’s okay-you got me off!” you assured him.

“Here, I know what’ll make you feel better. I brought my records with me…would you like to hear one?” he asked.

You nodded. He brought out a box. There was such a wide variety that he collected. He insisted on not sticking religiously to one genre. Good music was good music. He offered you your choice of albums. You selected one of the old-school crooners from the fifties. He set it on and began to play it. The album started as you both sat there, listening. The music melting your adrenaline from the balcony. You turned and felt him look at you. He then offered an open hand.

“Can we…can we dance?” he offered.

“Yes.”

You felt him pull you up. You felt him take one hand in your other and you felt him reach an arm around your waist to your back. You both moved. It wasn’t as much dancing as it was gentle swaying. But he was so graceful, so soothing you didn’t care.

“Robert, why did you say yes to dinner?” you asked.

“I’ve been lonely here, Y/N. I wanted company. And after that party, I wanted your company…you made this lonely man feel a little less lonely in this place here.” he explained.

The crooner’s voice went up to end the song and a new one began.

“Your hands…they’re cold. Doctor’s hands are always cold,” you commented.

“Then here,” he offered.

Robert put one hand to his face, letting out an exhale. on the palm. Then he rubbed it on his pants. The friction creating more heat. Then he grasped your hand again.

“No cold hands, no?” he asked.

“Much better,” you nodded.

“Y/N, would you like to learn something medical?” he asked, continuing to sway with you.

“Yes.”

“You can feel the pulse in various places in the body, yes, but that includes your stomach. And that’s for a certain kind of pulse- PMI. Point of Maximum Impulse,” he explained.

“Where is it on me?” you asked.

“Well, can I touch you with my cold doctor's hands?” he quipped.

“Yes,” you answered with a giggle.

He lowered his hand to press the flesh gently beneath your left breast, and between rib bones. You inhaled sharply at his touch.

“There. That’s the PMI- one of the strongest beats from your heart. You can guess certain heart diseases feeling it,” he taught.

“And what can you tell about my pulse, Doctor Laing?” you asked.

His cheeks became pink at the word.

“That it’s…it’s racing…very fast.”

“And why does the heartbeat race? You’re the expert,” you teased.

“Anxiety or danger… but also excitement…”

“What about yours? How is your pulse?” you asked.

“Here…why don’t you tell me yourself…” he offered, smiling back.

You lifted your hand from his and placed it on the left side of his chest, over his grey jacket. You could feel it starting to race.

“It’s going fast too…” he whispered.

“From anxiety, danger…or excitement…”

“Yes…”

Robert then leaned forward, his nose grazing yours. An inch before, almost seeking permission. You gazed at each other’s eyes and then lips.

And finally, they touched sealing into a kiss. You felt him press you tight- an embrace you would never want him to release from. He held onto you. The music swelled- it was now a romantic ballad. He let go.

“I had a good night tonight,” Robert told you.

“I did too…”

His hand dropped to touch the side of your face. He kissed more and more. He pushed his tongue in, and you made a noise at the feel. Only to kiss him more. You felt his hand on your lower back press you closer. Your hips were connecting. Arousal soaked you down below. But even more this time. This time it was real. The friction made you chilled, hypnotized. Nothing, no one else mattered- except him.

“I…I don’t want it to end now….” He confessed.

He kissed you, but then you realized he had guided you right into the column before the kitchen, and he was pawing at your clothes, looking for the zipper in your back. Your mind then went blank in surprise.

“Robert- wait! Please, wait!” you pleaded breathily, putting a hand on his chest to stop.

He paused. His arms fell. A strand of hair was loose and his lips were bright pink.

“Did the ladies tell you about me?” you asked.

“No,” he reported.

“I know you’re experienced but I never…never did this before, Robert…” you explained.

“Oh...alright…” he nodded.

No comments. No words of lack of surprise nor total surprise. No laughter and no judgment. No teasing. He only accepted it as a fact, like the earth was round.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away. I got excited. I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot- but I’ll stop,” He apologized.

He took a few steps back.

Yet the look of him made you light-headed with lust. All yours if only for this night. The raving reviews of the women taunted your mind. And the creeping, slivering desire you felt for Robert Laing overwhelmed you. You realized you didn’t want to call it a night and return home. It was the first step of a steep hike. The view from above would be worth each nerve-wracking step. And that he felt for you…

Your heart was racing out of control. Your head was clear despite the wine, the pooling in your body was urging at you, telling you. It's time. You're ready. And you know it. You want this. You want him.

“I told you to wait… not to stop. Not completely. I trust you. I want this. And I want it to be you…” you directed.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied, stepping forward.

You slide a hand behind his head, through his hair. He kissed you further, deeper. You moaned into it.

“The bed. If it’s the first time, you need the bed…” he whispered.

You would let him have you anywhere, but you still smiled. He led you over there to that bed. He laid you down.

“Look at you in that dress, it made me want to ruin you the minute you came in,” he growled.

He kissed you hard and passionately. You sighed into it. Some gentle pressure from his push and you laid down on the bed. He laid on top of you and you felt his weight. It wasn’t to crush you, but just enough that it was like an embrace. You felt a gasp from your lips as he undid his tie and tossed it to the side. His hands raised your skirt. He grinned seeing the nicest lace underwear you had selected. Already visibly stained by how wet you were.

“Here…I’ll make you ready even more, darling…” he said.

He crept a finger down the hem. He then looked up.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes, you can…” you nodded.

You let out a gasp feeling his finger inside you. He moved it around and you shuddered. A gasp that stopped in your throat as he stretched you out, felt your walls, getting deeper. He explored you and you had to get used to it- the newness, the intrusion. But you didn’t want him out yet. He licked his lips as he curled it up, eliciting a small moan from you. You felt him move up your folds and then finding your clit. As he began to circle it, you splayed a hand over his back and grabbed onto his jacket. A shuddering sound escaped you. The man was fully clothed but you were already a mess for him. You began to writhe as he circled it more, in response, a groan came out of you.

“There?” he asked.

“There!” you confirmed in a gasp.

“More, my dear-more?” he asked.

“Yes…then keep them- oh!” you cried, interrupted as he put in a second finger.

You felt your own legs open wider for space. He found the right spot, and you began whimpering. Neck arching and close your eyes to keep feeling it. Then he removed it, wiping the juices on your thigh. You felt cold, and empty without them in you. But that was only the first stage; preparation.

“Can’t believe I’m your first. First to touch you. First to ruin you. First to fuck you. I don’t want any man after to compare to me,” he boasted.

Your fingers began to grip the sheets to steady yourself. Both of you tossed away your shoes.

He unzipped the back of your dress. You pulled him forward, kissing him again, but moving to the lobe of his ear, his neck. He removed your dress. He took off your stockings, kissing your stomach as it glided over and letting it float down to the floor. You were in a bra and underwear. You raised a hand to cup his cheek. Despite the shakiness in your hands and your own brain racing through the fog of arousal, fear, and thrill. You pulled him in to kiss him again, not caring that your teeth clank. He wrapped an arm around you, and you felt the warmth right on your skin.

“We have some walls to test here. I want you to be screaming for the neighbors to complain,” he voiced, taking off his jacket to toss on the floor.

You half sat up and helped him to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt. With a smooth movement, he removed his pants. You saw the erect outline through his white underwear. You felt your eyes widen as you saw him. Tanned and ripped, clear muscles, strong biceps, and a wide chest and shoulders. He smiled proudly as you sat there ogling him.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said.

“That’s good. I like what I see too. There’s just one thing that could be better,” he said.

He went back to kiss you and felt one hand reach to your bra strap in the back. Both of you forgot about the enforced chill of the apartments. You had the fire of bare skin on bare skin. He paused and looked down at your exposed breasts with a smile. He raised his hand, grazing a thumb over your nipple. You shivered from it.

“This exquisite and uninvaded. Untouched. Looks like I’ll have to end that…” he mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around you to pull you back down, and you peppered kisses all over his jaw and his neck. You even found his earlobe and pecked it. You felt his own hardness press on you as well as his leg. A thin line of cloth on both of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Keeping your bodies from joining. Ache. Need. You felt him against you. Your hips rocked to his and Laing let out a groan. He teased his hardness against your clothed entrance.

“And you know the procedure, Doctor?” you teased with a heated giggle.

“I know it well if you want it,” he replied, his breath hot against you.

“Yes, please…I need you to fuck me,” you mewled, arching your shoulders back, tits splaying.

You never heard this tone in your voice. Wanton. Downright pornographic. But here it was.

You felt his own hips against yours and a shudder between you both. Then he crawled up, and you felt his hardness outline on your stomach. He looked at you.

“Then, keep laying supine…and keep calling me Doctor…” he requested.

He kissed one breast, eliciting a moan from you. He moved on to the other. Your arms reached down until your fingers traced his shoulders. You found his hair and combed all ten of your fingers through it. He moved down to kiss your hip bone. His own hands went up, tracing the side of your leg.

You felt his long fingers splaying over your hip bones and the hem. He was slow- as if enjoying feeling every inch of you. Curling around the hem, he pulled the panties down your thighs. He put them through your knees, through your calves, and off. As if this was a ceremony. Your heart drummed further, your head spinning as he looked down on you. He looked at you bare. His eyes kept between your legs, licking your lips at the sight of your sex.

He removed his underwear and kicked it away. He was already dripping small pearls. You swallowed a gasp. He was monstrous…not that you had any before to compare it to. He returned to hover over you. He pried your legs open with his hands, warm from his breath but also the touch of your skin. You felt your own hips arch forward for him.

You glanced over to the side, seeing the night. It was dark against the soft lights of the apartment. The sky was clear. Stars finally outshone the city smog. A beautiful, peaceful night indeed. A perfect night to lose your innocence to Laing.

He then tipped a finger beneath your chin, moving you to face him.

“I want to see you, I want to look in your eyes when I’m the first one to fuck you, the first to enter you. I want you to look at me,” he rasped.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Looking right into his eyes, you opened your shaking legs. He sank into you. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Moans coming out of you. Then he moved his hips and let it all in.

You let out one little cry when he was fully inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and his moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. He panted right next to you. He kept his eyes on you. Knowing how special this moment was. He finally claimed you. Nothing else would change that now in the future. Robert Laing was the first to enter you. The first to show you sinful bliss.

Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

Your breath hitched when finally, he was inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and a moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

“There…there’s a good girl…like that…” he rasped.

He thrust into you again, and again. A voice flew out of you, a voice you never knew you had. He began to pick up only slightly. You gasped- you liked this.

“Yes! Yes, yes! Doctor-fuck- yes!!” you hissed.

You tilted your head back, eyes closing to enjoy the sensation when he cupped your jaw and pulled it down. You opened your jaw as he traced a finger over your lips.

“Remember-eyes on me….” He panted.

You let his face meet yours. His lips grazed yours in an open kiss. He even took his forehead and pressed yours against it. You felt his breath hot against you.

“Angel, can you…can you take more?” he asked.

You nodded, your hands reaching to that strong back and digging your nails in. He responded by snapping his hips right into you, such a hard pull you felt the invasion arrange your insides.

“Doctor!” you cried out.

It was the sweetest invasion, the pinprick of pain that brought pleasure. He picked up the speed. His own groans from his pink lips serenade your whorish moans. Then more.

“Fuck, you’re-you’re tight. Shit-shit- taking me so well, there- there’s- fuck!-my good girl,” he whimpered as he picked up the pace.

You felt yourself get dizzy. Your hands around, reaching his hair and raking your nails deeper onto his back. He had found the right spot, your hips meeting his, but angling- deeper, with the speed increasing. You were sliding against the bed, yet you weren’t stopping him. He then took your lower thighs and lifted them, he reached the upper angle, near your clit. He was getting rougher.

“Doctor-Yes-oh, Jesus- Yes-yes!” you were yelling.

His thrusts were wilder. Faster. He grunted and groaned, eyes down on you. Here was the passionate man the women raved about. The desk next to the bed was shifting around with how deeply, quickly, and powerfully he was fucking you. And the bed itself was denting against the wall.

Something was bubbling inside you. Building up. He was cursing, then crying out your name. Something was building in you. Like you were going to break if you let it grow. Like you would die. But you wanted to. at the sound as he slammed you, hips slamming into yours as he kept up the fast rhythm. All as he looked you in the eye and you in his eyes. Then he put a finger in your slit and curled it on your nub.

The pleasure was rising. More moans came out of you. Not quiet ones. Bubbling up wilder as he stroked you there. About to spin out of control. You weren’t going to last.

“D-Doctor- I think I’m- I think I’m going to-“

“Cum-darling-cum, cum with me!” He was yelling as well, meeting your volume.

It built higher, higher, until-

You let out a last, loud cry.

The spinning pleasure snapped in you. You took in a slight gasp as the shockwaves of your peak. You felt him give a last shout of your name as he came too. He was pulsing inside you, and you felt yourself shake, an ache in your own pussy and legs. The record had stopped playing and there was only the white noise of the vents above you. The heat had come back on. Not that you or Robert needed it.

You fell together, feeling the eclipse of your shared high. You saw the ceiling spin above you. Slowly arriving back to. The apartment reeked of sex, of your bodies, of sweat, and the heat of passion. He pulled out of you; you could hear his own quick breaths. Trying to catch his own. Your entire body was heavy from your climax, craving sleep.

“Are you okay?” he asked, touching a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m…I’m tired…tired and wonderful,” you replied.

He smiled.

“I’m glad then…” he said.

You nestled close and wrapped an arm around him. Good night, you couldn’t have asked for a better hour.

“Robert, Thank you. I’m glad it was with you…” you complimented.

“So, I take that you liked it?” he quipped.

“I loved it- Doctor,” you answered with a giggle.

As you nestled closer to him, he laughed back with you. The laughter made his body under your arms jilt up and down. The sound rumbled and echoed through your skin. There was something pure about it. Sweet.

He let go. But it felt too soon. You wanted to hold him for longer. Cuddle him. Kiss him on the cheek and forehead. Call him every pet name under the sun. You leaned on your side and traced the outline of his cheek down to his shoulder. He blinked and watched your hands, unused to the intimacy. Then he shifted closer to lay on his side parallel to you. You wrapped your arms around each other.

“Can I stay?” you proposed.

His eyes went wide. His jaw went slack. Then he nodded.

“Yes- Y/n, please! I never had anyone stay over the night…” he confessed.

Your eyebrows shut up.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped.

Comparing you to his ex-lovers on a first date wasn’t a wise choice for a man. But there was a sadness in his voice. It made you halt. It made you listen.

“They’d take me. And then they’d leave. Not say a word when I passed them at the store. Like I was no different than their plumber…”

You traced a finger over his bare chest. Drawing figures as he beamed down at you.

“Then I’ll stay…but I might need my toothbrush tomorrow. My breath will stink if you kiss me in the morning,” you reminded him.

“I’ll brave it then,” he responded.

He leaned in to kiss you. Both of you settled in closer. Never letting go of the other. Discussing everything. Discussing nothing. Your exhaustion from your orgasm won over and you both melted into a peaceful sleep, there in room 2505.

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five-miles-over · 1 year ago

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Re-reading this before work and it's giving me "Death of a Bachelor", which I absolutely love :) "Lifetime of laughter at the expense of the death of a bachelor."

Sunday

SUMMARY. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- nothing but another morning with the love of your life in high rise. PAIRING. robert laing x gender neutral reader WORD COUNT. 0.74k

THIS WORK CONTAINS implied smut, slightly smutty, contains nudity, fluff

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Mornings in the cities have always known to be bustling with everyone busy getting ready for the new day of their lives, preparing themselves for the never-ending challenges they’re about to face. Likewise, mornings in the high rise have never been any close to tranquil or peaceful with Charlotte Melville’s parties which lasts from day till night since many in the building suffer from insomnia. In addition, Richard Wilder knocking onto the door far too early just to have a little drunken talk with your lover at the most inappropriate moments, resulting in a groan of frustration from the love of your life and even ignorance, sometimes. Despite every disturbance mentioned, today was an exception, surprisingly.

The sleep you received wasn’t enough to utterly elevate your energy levels and you were still quite sore from your intercourse last night. Overstimulated, that’s the phrase you’d use to describe your last few hours before finally closing your eyelids for some rest, your mind fogged from the euphoric pleasure as his name fell from your lips like a prayer. Bits of memories swarm back into your mind, both of your moans and curses echoing in your head. Indeed, you were quite tipsy from the wine Laing prepared along with the romantic candlelight dinner last night, in which you can’t seem to remember for what purposes. Though, you remember it was something truly special that managed to bring out tears of joy from you, leading the both of you to another, what he calls, lovemaking. “God, I love you,” you whispered underneath your breath, running your fingers across the milky skin of Laing’s heaving chest lazily, the man who’d taken you over and over, exploring every inch of your curves ever so compassionately. “I love you too,” he grunted in his morning voice, wrapping his fingers around the back of your hand which rested on his bare chest, catching you off guard. Before any remark could pass your lips regarding to him pretending to be in deep slumber, he captured your lips with his eagerly, intertwining your fingers that rested on his chest with his as his naked figure climbed on top of you effortlessly. Removing his lips from yours, he peppered soft kisses on the corner of your mouth to the surface of your jaw in a trail, his warm breath hitting your exposed skin whilst travelling down to the crook of your neck which had been bruised by his teeth. The deep purple marks have always been his most admirable work of art, yet his heart couldn’t help but sting a little at the sight of it as usual, overconcerned if he’d been too harsh on your delicate body. And without any further consideration, he pressed his lips against the bites that marked his passion and love towards you, secretly wishing it’d soothe the pain caused by his intense suction, even if it’s just a little. “Laing,” his last name slipped from your lips in a sigh, your fingers pulling at his brown curls and your neglected lips craving for his attention which he had taken the hint, connecting his lips with yours in a flick of a switch. “Could you please stay?” your murmur in between kisses nearly turned into a desperate plea. Laing pulled back from your needy lips smoothly, causing you to panic if you had accidentally ruined the mood. Instead of rejecting your request in the best possible way and whisper sweet nothings into your ears as he hums you back to sleep softly, which is what he’d normally do whenever the same or similar question of yours hits him, he held your hand to his lips, rubbing the pad of his thumb against something around your finger you were too busy to notice since you’ve been trying to read the definition behind every expression of his. “Anything for you,” he brought his lips to your knuckles. “Mrs(Mr) Laing.” That was when realisation hit, missing bits of memories flowing back into your mind in a heap instantly, your orbs finally landed on the ring around your finger. So that was what the candlelight dinner was for- his proposal, or perhaps a fair deal he made as he’s never been really good with words. He traded his everlasting love and dedication towards you, along with the rest of his life as his piece of offering, in exchange for the same devotion and lifetime from you.

“I like the sound of it.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

SYD .ೃ࿐ Reblogs and interactions are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading.

#tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston fluff #robert laing fluff #robert laing x reader #robert laing x y/n #robert laing x you #robert laing smut #robert laing

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jinxfestival · 4 months ago

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I think I definitely have an ideal type

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no-144444 · 3 months ago

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my girl- (o.piastri no.81)

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summary: fans made an edit of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader (no.28)

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Oscar Piastri being in love with Y/n Y/l/n for 15 minutes straight, and vice versa (F2 -> F1)

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Clip 1: Prema video

Bahrain Airport, F2 season beginning, March.

“And here we have the 3 year reigning champion of the Indycar Junior series, making her F2 pivot, Y/n Y/l/n!” Rob cheered as he woke you from your nap on the plane.

“Shut up,” you groaned, pushing the camera away with a chuckle. “I'm tired, leave me be.”

“The plane is landing, idiot!”

“Hush!” you laughed. “That means ages until we get off, get your camera away Rob!”

Rob and you had gotten the same flight from London, and you’d become fast friends. He was eccentric and overtop, but a good laugh. You were sure you looked crazy. 6 hour flights do that to a person. You and Rob chatted to the camera about the weekend, and you introduced yourself to the Prema fans. Not many people gave a shit about Indycar, and even less cared about Indycar junior.

As you disembarked the plane and got through security, people stopped you and Rob for photos and whatnot, then you finally got out of the airport. Angelina was standing there with a camera and a big ‘welcome’ sign, and another two very tired teenage boys beside her.

“Y/n!” she cheered, pulling you both into a hug. “Rob!”

Little did you know, Rob’s camera was pointed at Oscar, who turned to Fred with a shocked expression and whispered: “She’s gorgeous.”

Beside him, Fred chuckled. “Go for her.”

“No way I have any chance with her, I-”

“I can hear you, y’know?” you cut in, coming over to introduce yourself.

He went redder than a tomato, and you all just laughed.

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Clip 2: Sky Sports channel

Bahrain International Circuit, 27th of March

“And it’s No. 28 who sees the chequered flag first, the rookie, and the only girl on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n! Pole position in her first race!”

“That’s P1 Y/n, congratulations,” your race engineer, Pedro, beamed as you crossed the finish line.

“Motherfuck Guanyu is fast mate, we need to watch out for him- oh, and the other Alpine boy that was trying to flirt with me, what’s his name?” you answered. The Prema garage was full of laughter as you outed Oscar.

“Oscar Piastri? No.2,” Pedro chuckled. “He failed to flirt with you?”

“Well, bless him, he tried to,” you chuckled as you parked the car. “He’s cute though.”

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“That’s P6 Oscar, and just to let you know, Y/n Y/l/n has outed you on the radio and on live television saying that you tried and failed to flirt with her,” his race engineer said.

Oscar laughed, finding the situation funny. “My mum’s going to tweet about that.”

“She also called you ‘cute’, if that helps with any bruised ego?”

Oscar’s face lit up under his helmet. “It definitely does,” he chuckled. “Thanks mate.”

“I’d wingman you any time,” he chuckled.

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Clip 3: Prema video

Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy, April.

“Hello everyone,” Robert smiled at the camera. “Today we will be going for a drive, I’d better call Oscar in.”

Oscar sat in the passenger seat and did his belt as they caught up and told the viewers what they’d be watching.

“So, today, you will be joining us for a drive around the Italian countryside,” Rob smiled. “And we will be answering your questions.”

“Let the questions begin,” Oscar added. He pulled one out of the bowl and read it aloud. “Who’s your favourite Prema team member?”

Rob smiled. “That’s hard, I love the whole Prema team so much, but… yeah, that’s hard. Maybe my race engineer, Fred? I get along quite well with him,” Rob giggled as Oscar nodded.

“What?” Oscar laughed.

“I know your favourite,” Rob smirked.

Oscar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

“La tua ragazza,” Rob chuckled as Oscar rolled his eyes. “What? It is true! You love her!” (La tua ragazza = your girl in Italian)

“I’ve met her once, mate!” Oscar laughed.

“So you don’t like her? I can ask her out?” Rob deadpanned.

“Well, no, you can't-” Oscar was cut off by Rob’s laughter and he decided to stop trying to fight him about it. Everyone on the team knew that Oscar Piastri was infatuated with you.

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Clip 4: Georgie O’Hara’s deleted youtube video.

Haileybury and Imperial Service College, England.

“Ok, that’s an awful idea!” Oscar yelled over his friends. “They already know you’re the ones doing it!”

“It’s fine! It’ll be fine!” Elijah, a good friend of his, smiled. They wanted to set off the fire alarms again, for the third time that week. Deodorant and stupid teenage boys did not mix, especially when they refused to put it on themselves and waste it on fire drills instead.

Georgie turned to his phone, addressing the viewers "Oscar's a goody-two-shoes, if you couldn't tell."

Suddenly his phone rang from an unknown number, and before he could leave it ring, Anthony (another friend of his) answered. “Oscar Piastri, incoming F2 champion’s phone, how may I help you?”

Oscar laughed, but suddenly stopped when he heard you.

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you chuckled at his friend. “Anyways, can you just ask him to ask Elijah not to do the fire alarm thing between 11pm and 2am? The girls in my room and I are sneaking downstairs to watch a film and we don’t really want to get caught.”

Oscar covered his face and groaned, then took the phone off Georgie. “Hey-hi, Y/n. Yes, of course, we won’t do the fire alarm thing, ever again. Sorry.”

He turned his back as his friends made kissing noises and certain gestures at him.

“All good, thanks Osc,” you smiled. “You and your friends are welcome to join us if you want.”

Oscar could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. “I’ll ask them,” he smiled. He turned to his friends. “Y/n’s inviting us all to a movie, we’re sneaking out tonight,” he informed them.

“I don’t want to-” Anthony started, but Georgie silenced him with a kick to the shin.

“Mate, this is Oscar’s one fucking chance with his girl, shut up,” He scoffed.

“Is that a yes?” You asked over the phone.

“Yes!” they all answered.

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As the night went on, you found yourself getting more and more tired. Oscar was beside you and you could tell how he was trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. You could practically see the way his heart leapt out of his chest when you held his hand. As ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ ended, you squeezed his hand before getting up and letting go.

“Alright, I’ll clean up, everyone else go back upstairs before you get caught,” you whispered. The ‘movie room’ as the students called it (it was technically the staff room but no one really cared) was a mess. Blankets, cups, wrappers and pillows were everywhere. The group slowly shuffled out as you were left with only Oscar. Georgie had forgotten about his camera and it was still recording where he’d put it down to get some shots of everyone watching the film.

“I can help,” Oscar whispered.

You shook your head. “Seriously, you go ahead. They already hate me at this school anyways,” you chuckled.

“Please let me help?” he asked again. You couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to his puppy dog eyes, could you?

“Fine,” you smiled.

You two chatted quietly as you cleaned up the room, and finally met at the door to leave.

“I really enjoyed tonight-” You started, but you were cut off by Oscar kissing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck once the initial shock wore off. You both pulled away after a few seconds. You stared up at him as his usually-blank face turned to one of panic.

“Sorry if that was forward, or-or weird- or-” He started, but now it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss.

He pulled back smiling, and he didn’t move his hands, or try to move away from you. There was a moment of silence. “Can I take you on a date?”

You chuckled. “Yes.”

Oscar was elated.

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Clip 5: Sky sports channel and Prema footage

Circuit de Monaco, Monaco, Monaco, May 22nd.

You were excited as you stepped onto the podium, victorious. It had been a difficult few laps at the end, Guanyu overtaking, then you overtaking, and over and over, but you got the chequered flag first. You were breaking records, breaking barriers as a woman in motorsports. You’d won Monaco, your first time racing there. In the Sprint, and the feature race. You were on top of the world. As you raised your trophy, the crowd cheered and Oscar was cheering the loudest.

You looked to your left, him standing on the podium for the first time this season, and you smiled.

“Feels good, huh?” you smirked.

“Feels great, but I’ll be coming for your step next,” he smirked.

“You wish Piastri,” you scoffed, then uncorked your champagne bottle and sprayed it on him and Zhou.

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Clip 6: Sky Sports channel, Prema footage

Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, 17th of July, Sprint Race.

“And it’s Y/n Y/l/n into the wall in a bad collision with Liam Lawson, only 2 laps till the end!”

Everything was in slow motion, one second you were in control, the next you were flipping into the wall.

“Red flag, red flag Oscar, huge crash in sector 3, come in, come in,” his race engineer said.

“Who was it?” He asked, slowing his pace.

“Y/l/n and Lawson, straight into the wall.”

“Is she ok? Is she out of the car?” he asked calmly.

“Not yet,” he answered grimly. The Prema garage was eerily silent as they watched the stewards struggle to get you out of the car.

As he came up on sector 3, he saw you. The car was upside down leaning against the barrier, they were putting out the fire. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You and Oscar had been dating for a few months now, and he really liked you. He passed by in horror as he saw that you weren’t out of the car yet. He was getting more and more nervous as the moments went on. He caught sight of Liam. He was out of the car. He beckoned Oscar over and he obliged, letting him hitch a ride back to the pitlane with him as he drove slowly. As they got back to the pitlane, they both jumped out as the race was finally deemed as cancelled, and the boys walked off, waiting for news.

“What happened?” he asked.

“It was a total mistake, my car had mad fucking oversteer and I just hit the throttle too hard, and then she was in the wall,” he answered. “She’s not even out yet.”

“She’ll be ok,” Oscar said, trying to convince himself as well as Liam. “She’s strong.”

Liam nodded, and went off to the RedBull garage with his head held low. Oscar walked into the Prema garage and his mom immediately pulled him in for a hug. Beside her was your parents, looking terrified.

“You’re ok, thank god,” she whispered. She didn’t care about the multiple cameras pointing at them, her son was alright.

“Is there any news yet?”

“They’ve pulled her out of the car,” your dad answered, eyes glued to the screen.

“Is she responsive?” Nicole asked.

“Yes!” You race engineer answered, happy that you were alive. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the garage. “Complaining about lower back and leg pain, as well as a definite broken arm. She won’t be racing for a while,” he added, his tone becoming more and more sombre. Oscar watched as your mother broke down in your father’s arms, and he felt like throwing up. You wouldn’t be racing, you wouldn’t get to do the thing you loved.

---------------------

Clip 6: Prema video

ASST Brianza - Vimercate Hospital, 18th of July.

You woke up in blinding pain a few hours earlier. Everyone had worked so hard to make everything ok, to make you comfortable, but all night all you did was sob. The pain was unbearable in the car, you thought you were going to die, you thought you weren’t getting out of the car. 5 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a fractured hip bone, and a broken arm apparently wasn’t a joke. No racing for the rest of the year. Your life was over.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you sat up and pain shot up your back.

“Hey,” Oscar’s soft voice brought you out of your upset, and back into the room. He took your hand. You felt bad, he’d been there the entire time, and honestly, he should probably be at the track already, ahead of today’s race. You’d tried to shoo him but he wasn’t having it, much more in favour of being with you and cluing you in on how your parents reacted to him being your boyfriend. Awkward. “Take your time.”

You nodded, grateful that he was there, then turned your attention to the camera Angelina had brought with her and set up to take a ‘statement’ video. “Hi Prema fans, and my fans. Yesterday was pretty rough, and with a heavy heart I have to tell you that I won’t be able to continue this season in F2. My back was badly damaged yesterday in my collision with Liam, which was a complete accident and not anyone's fault, and I definitely don’t blame Liam. I love racing, and I’ll still be at the majority of the races to support my teammates, and my boyfriend. This is just a very unfortunate event that pulls me out of the game for a while, but I’ll be back. I hope you miss me on track, and just know that I’m alright. Thank you for the support, bye for now, Prema family.”

Oscar wrapped his arms around you and smiled. “I’m the boyfriend,” he added, making you laugh.

---------------------

Clip 7: Prema footage

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 4th of December

“And Oscar Piastri sees the chequered flag first! Winning a sprint race and the feature race this weekend!”

You jumped up and down beside Chris, his father, as he came into the pitlane. He was the lead of the championship. He was going to win F2. No doubt about it.

The past 5 months had been difficult. You’d been back at school for a while, only now cleared to travel again, but you were happy to be back at the tracks. It felt good to watch Oscar win in person.

Chris wrapped his arms around you as you both celebrated. Oscar’s radio came on.

“God guys, good drive. Looks like Y/n is my lucky charm,” he laughed over the radio. The last races hadn’t gone so well for him, but he was straight back to winning with you here.

You were smiling the whole way to the barricade, but that ended when about 50 people were against your back, pushing violently. Chris and Mark were trying desperately to get them to back off, but they couldn’t stop them. You promised them you’d be ok, but the pain was getting unbearable, and Oscar hadn’t come over yet.

“Guys, move back!” He shouted as he ran over, just finished taking off his helmet. “Make some space!” The team obliged, but he still decided to be dramatic and lift you over the barrier. “You alright?” he asked, but you just wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re incredible Osc,” you smiled. “I love you so much.”

And there it was, out in the open for the first time. Too bad you forgot you both had microphones on.

He smiled wider than you ever thought possible for his face. “I love you too. So much baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You should be up here with me,” he added and you nodded, it still being a sore subject. “And you will be. Next year.”

You nodded, grateful for the hope and support he offered you. “Go! Go to your team!” you laughed, pushing him on. Before he let you out of his grasp, he grabbed your waist and stole a sweet, quick kiss.

---------------------

Clip 8: Prema footage

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 12th of December

He’d done it. He was the F2 champion. Sadly next year he would only get to be the Alpine F1 reserve driver, which meant no consistent racing, but that was still incredible.

You waited by the barricade as he came in, and he went straight over to you. He pulled his helmet off, then his bandana, and pulled you in for a kiss. The rest of the team ‘ohh’ed and ‘aww’ed but neither of you cared at all. He’d won.

“Congratulations F2 winner,” you smirked, pulling away.

“Thanks baby,” he smiled.

---------------------

Post-race interview

“So, how does this feel, Oscar?” she asked.

“It feels amazing, y’know, we’ve all worked so hard at this for the whole year and it’s just really special to have everyone here, especially my girlfriend Y/n. I’m missing her on track, so it’s good to still at least have her in the paddock,” he smiled, and the camera cut to you, beaming up at him.

---------------------

Clip 9: Prema footage and Sky Sports channel

Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 19th of March, Sprint 1.

“We’re in the Prema garage,” Oscar explained to the camera in front of him. He was in full Alpine gear, being a reserve driver meant being a marketing machine, but this wasn’t for Alpine, this was for you. “And my girlfriend is about to go and do her first race back since the accident last season. Let’s go interview her about it!” He walked through the garage, searching for you, and finally found you. “Y/n! Any time for an interview?”

You turned to him and smiled. “I always have time for you,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. His grip on you was tight but you didn’t mind. You pulled away and turned to the camera.

“So, how does it feel to be back?” He asked.

“Amazing. I thought my life was over when I was told I wasn’t allowed to race for half a year.”

“And who helped nurse you back to health?” He smirked, batting his eyelashes at you.

“Your mom mostly,” you chuckled. You’d spent the entire off-season in Australia with Oscar and his family, and Nicole had been so considerate and careful about your healing injuries.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yeah… that’s probably true,” he chuckled. “How do you feel being on Pole?”

“It feels good. We just have to stay quick this season. I didn’t rush my healing just to lose,” you smiled then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve to get in the car now, love you,” you smiled. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his lips to yours with a ‘good luck’, then let you go.

---------------------

“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n is coming in with a bang! A Sprint Pole and a Sprint win! That is a statement, ‘I never left’!”

“That’s P1 Y/n, well done!” Pedro called over the radio as the Prema garage went crazy.

“Thanks for everything guys, great car, great drive-”

“Great driver,” he added.

You pulled into the pitlane and got out of the car, celebrating as they got the photo of you on the car. You ran over to Oscar at the barricade as you pulled off your helmet and balaclava.

“That’s my girl!” he cheered as you pulled him in for a hug. “See? Nothing's changed.”

You pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m loving this WAG lifestyle,” he chuckled.

You laughed. “It suits you.”

He chuckled. “Alright, you’re being called for the interview. Love you,” he smiled as you walked off, giving your hand a squeeze. You blew him a kiss back.

---------------------

Clip 10: Prema video

Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy.

You were laughing with Logan, doing a ‘Who knows who best’ challenge and both of you were failing miserably.

You put the headphones on and the music started, making it impossible to hear him. You watched as the room erupted in laughter, then Logan nudged you to take the headphones off.

“What is the most annoying thing about you?” He asked, holding back giggles.

“I know what you’d say,” you chuckled. “Me and Oscar.”

The room erupted in laughter as he nodded. “Exactly!”

“You’re just jealous,” you chuckled.

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a girlfriend?”

“No, because I have Oscar and you don’t,” you shot back, and everyone started laughing again.

---------------------

Clip 11: Sky Sports Channel

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 20th of November

“And after a season of domination from the woman in red, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first with a staggering 425 points! This F2 season will go down in history!”

You’d done it. You’d done it. You were an F2 champion, and next season you’d be in an F1 car fulltime, racing alongside Oscar, Logan, and Nick. You’d made it.

You jumped out of the car, amazed at your season. It’d been win after win, fastest lap after fastest lap, pole position after pole position. You’d worked so hard.

“You did it baby!” Oscar shouted as you ran over. You jumped into his arms, and let him hold you up. He looked at you like you held the sky up, like you were the greatest thing on the planet. “You’re incredible.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. “ I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more,” he pressed kisses to any inch of skin he could, more than proud to be yours.

You chuckled as he tickled you with his kisses, before you realised that you needed to go fulfil your duties. He put you down, but before you could leave, he grabbed your waist again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Osc.”

---------------------

Clip 12: Sky Sports channel, McLaren footage, and RedBull footage

Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 2023.

“A disappointing result for Oscar Piastri, but an incredible run for Y/n Y/l/n, P1 in her first race! I’m sure he’ll be pleased with that for his long-time girlfriend!”

Oscar was pissed off, but his mood was lifted by your result. You were incredible. He cheered in his own garage, happy for your win. You’d won your first race. Who else did that? The first woman to ever do so.

He was in awe of you.

He exited his garage, ready to see you after your win. He saw you getting out of the car and running straight into the arms of your team and he smiled. He finally caught your eye after some time, and you ran over, wrapping your arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of your mouth. “If I could trade our cars, I would Osc, I really would,” you sighed.

“Don’t even joke about that. Don’t make your first win about me. This is about you, my brilliant, incredible, winner,” he pressed his lips to yours in a short, victory kiss. “I love you, yeah?” “I love you too,” you smiled.

“You were amazing out there,” he smiled.

---------------------

Clip 13: McLaren video

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

“Who is your teammate's favourite person?” Lando asked, then looked at the camera and rolled his eyes. “Oscar’s is Y/n because he’s a traitor.”

Oscar burst into laughter and looked at Lando. “That’s not fair! We started dating as teammates!”

“Oh sure Osc!” Lando sighed, playing up the drama. “That’s what they all say.”

“But it’s the truth!”

“Anyways, moving on from Oscar and his traitor girlfriend, who’s my favourite person Oscar?”

“Max Fewtrell?”

Lando thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Him or my parents or siblings.”

Oscar took another question out of the bowl and chuckled. “What’s the other person’s red flag?”

Little did he know, you’d come in to visit him and were actively sneaking up behind him.

“Yours is your refusal to ever use a hairbrush,” you answered for Lando, and Oscar jumped, making everyone laugh, especially Lando, who fell off his chair. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Oscar's neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Came to say hi,” you smiled, kissing his cheek.

“Came to air out my business online?” He questioned, laughing. He took your hands and led you around his chair, sitting you on his lap. “When did you get in?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder as Lando tried to compose himself.

“Just now, came straight from the airport,” you nodded, leaning back against him.

“Bad flight?”

“Nah, I was on Max’s jet. He’s offered me to ask you two if you want to go back to Monaco after this weekend with him. I am,” you answered. He nodded, gently playing with your hands as he listened to you.

“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘thanks’, yeah?”

You nodded. “‘Course,” you got up to leave but he pulled you down by the arm and pressed your lips together quickly, then let you go. “Love you,” you called after yourself.

“Love you too,” he called back, ready to get back to the interview.

“Can we keep that in?” Ellie, their marketing manager asked.

He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

---------------------

Clip 14: Hattie Piastri’s tiktok vlog

Piastri residence, Melbourne, 2023

“Y/n’s over there with Oscar, and Addie is with May and mum and dad are with Tim over there,” she explained to the camera pointing everything out. In the video you and Oscar were laying on the grass in the setting sun, utterly exhausted from your weekend of racing where you’d gotten p2 and Oscar had gotten p8. His arms were wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, smiling.

---------------------

Clip 15: Sky Sports channel, RedBull footage and Nicole Piastri’s instagram

Circuit Zandvoort, Zandvoort, Holland

“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n beats teammate Max Verstappen to first place, and she sees the chequered flag first! What an incredible season this has been for the rookie!”

As you crossed the finish line, you almost felt sick. You’d beaten Max, giving you a lead in the Driver’s Championship. He’d been 10 points ahead. Now, you were 15 points ahead of him.

“That’s P1, P1 Y/n congratulations,” Pedro smiled.

“Thanks Pedro, and thanks everyone, really well done. Car is perfect, thank you all so much!”

“And Oscar’s P9, if you're wondering.”

“When I get my fucking hands on Zak Brown I will rip his fake fucking toupée off for giving him such a shit car,” You groaned. “Great drive guys, thanks.”

---------------------

You walked into the paddock as they all cheered both you and Max on. Max had gotten P2, unhappy with not winning, but not mad that you’d won. He saw what you were doing for motorsports all around the world, how much pressure you were under as the first female driver in a long time, and how hard you were working. He wasn’t going to make your life harder by being an asshole off the track too. He gave you a celebratory hug and moved onto his driver’s room, as you stayed out with the engineers, chatting and celebrating with them.

---------------------

Nicole Piatri’s instagram live

“Hi everyone, Osc and I are right now, trying to sneak into the RedBull garage to see Y/n,” Nicole explained and behind her, Oscar smiled and put both thumbs up.

“I’m going to be told off for this by Zak, so, sorry Zak. I want to see my girlfriend, my bad,” he chuckled, his apology only half-assed.

Nicole and him continued faffing around the paddock for a while, until Nicole caught your eye through the window. You ran over to the door beside them and let them in, pulling Nicole in for a huge hug as Oscar waited behind her with a wide smile.

He spoke to the live. “Apparently my girlfriend likes my mum better than me-"

You cut him off with a kiss as you laughed at his antics. “Shut the fuck up,” you chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”

“I missed seeing you in the conference,” he shrugged, holding you close as his mum took the phone and documented this moment between the two of you. “I love you,” he smiled.

“I love you too,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “P9? Not bad.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled. “P1? Not bad,” he lifted you into his arms making you squeal.

“Osc! Put me down!” You squealed.

“Let me win next time,” he chuckled. “Then I’ll put you down.”

“What do you want me to do? Switch our cars?”

“Ideally,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek and putting you down. “But I guess I’ll settle for watching you be gorgeous on the podium every week.”

“The fans are loving this!” Christian joked as he watched over Nicole’s shoulder, seeing how the chat was going crazy.

You both turned to Nicole with confused faces.

“You’re still filming mum?!”

This live has now been ended by the host.

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Clip 16: Sky sports channel

Lusail International Circuit, Lusail, Qatar

“Oscar Piastri has done the job brilliantly, the Australian driver will see the chequered flag first! Oscar Piastri wins the sprint to take McLaren to the top step once again!”

“That’s P2 Y/n, Oscar P1,” Pedro announced.

“WOOOOO!” You screamed, elated for him. “Fucking legend!”

“I said P2 for you,” he reminded.

“Shut up and be happy for him, just once,” you chuckled, pulling into the pit lane to park. You watched as Oscar got out of the car as you got out of your own car. Immediately, he ran over to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you celebrated together.

“You did it!” You shouted, jumped around in each other's arms. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“You put up a good fucking fight,” he chuckled, smiling like a kid.

“You’re going to look so sexy at the top of the podium,” you smirked and he blushed hard.

“I wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that in public,” he chuckled, then hid his face in your neck as you laughed.

---------------------

Post-sprint conference

“So, this is a question for Y/n and Oscar,” an interviewer started. Both of you looked up, exhausted from the late night race. “Does your relationship prohibit you from racing to your full potential? I believe Y/n, you could’ve caught up. Did you give him this win?”

You scoffed, appalled that anyone would have the audacity to ask such a thing. “For fuck’s sake,” you sighed. “No. I couldn’t have. You know how you know that? Because I would’ve if I could’ve. I love Oscar, and I’ve loved him since I was about 14 years old, but that doesn’t mean that I let him win. He’s a ridiculously talented driver, and a fucking genius with strategy. His car is great too. But out there today? That was pure talent. I can love him, and wholeheartedly race him too,” you answered, getting annoyed at the comments like these you two constantly got. “And another thing, I’m getting really fucking sick of the questions about our relationship. Do you really think we’d be together if we couldn’t race each other and not come back to each other and be proud of each other? Seriously? Where is your critical thinking?”

The room was full of whispered conversation as you dropped the last diss, and beside you Oscar was looking at you with huge heart eyes. Anyone could see it from a mile away, he loved you. He chuckled, wanting to add his two cents as well. “Yeah, exactly. The only thing she lets me win in is chess, right?” He looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes.

“You won once, asshole,” you chuckled, pushing his hand off your thigh.

“Then we stopped playing,” he shrugged, a cocky smirk very-present on his face.

“We ran out of time,” you shrugged, feigning innocence.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure.”

The tension in the room had been dissolved in the comedic moment, and you were thankful for Oscar’s calm exterior. You moved closer to him on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you, smiling wide as you pressed a kiss to his hand, the one closest to your face.

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Clip 17: Drive to Survive

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

“How are you feeling?” Oscar asked, sitting in your driver’s room with you before the race. He knew how worried you were, how much you wanted this. You had to win. You and Max were neck and neck. You just had to get more points than him, starting from P2.

You sighed, standing between his legs and messing with his hair, favouring trying not to think about it rather than talking about it. He grabbed ahold of your waist and pressed his face into your torso, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach, trying to make you laugh.

You chuckled and pushed him away, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, I promise. Just stressed.”

“You won’t be stressed in a week,” he smiled. “We’ll be in Melbourne.”

You smiled, and kissed him again. “We will. Waves and relaxing. Nothing else.”

“Well, and Logan,” he chuckled. “So… ‘Merica and all that,” he smiled as you laughed at his bad joke. He got you down to his lap and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve got this, don’t worry.”

“Wow, anxiety cured,” you replied sarcastically, making him laugh.

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Clip 18: Sky Sports Channel

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

“And it is an incredible season for the first female in modern F1, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first, with a Driver’s Championship 1-2 with her teammate Max Verstappen! This makes her the first female ever to win the F1 Driver’s Championship title! What an inspiration!”

You’d done it. You won your rookie season. You were World Champion. You were a legend.

“WOOOOO!” You screamed as tears rolled down beneath your hemet. “We did it! We did it!”

“We did it!” Pedro screamed. You knew the entire RedBull garage was going crazy right now. “You did it Y/n!”

“Thank you, everyone! This would’ve been impossible without you all! Amazing year! Incredible work!” you beamed.

---------------------

“That’s P6, P6 Oscar,” his race engineer announced.

“Did Y/n get it? Did she win?”

“Yes, your girl is a World Champion,” he smiled.

“YES! YES! THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” he screamed, elated at the news. He knew you could do it. He’d always known you could do it.

He rushed to get to the pit lane, ready to celebrate with you. He jumped out of the car and pulled off his helmet as fast as he could, watching as you ran over to him.

“You did it!” He cheered. “My fucking girl.”

“I did it!” You cried, over the moon. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled.

His eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled with pride. “You’re amazing. I love you so much Y/n.”

Neither of you cared about the cameras around you as you went in for a kiss. You didn’t care about how sweaty and gross you both were, you didn’t care about the grief that the pr team would give you, you didn’t care.

You were a World Champion. He was your everything. You were his everything.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 fluff

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reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

Text

Finding Home Again: Part One

Summary: Y/N meets Spencer Reid when she is 11-years-old, her older brother, Adam, is his classmate and friend. They reconnect at Adam's wedding.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, one bed trope

Warnings/Includes: mild bullying, name calling, bisexual spencer reid (it's canon to me), wedding activities, swimming in underwear, alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress, suggestive content (16+), commitment issues, emotionally unavailable parents, bad relationship with parents, confrontation

Word count: 12.4k

a/n: part two is here!!

main masterlist

Spencer Reid was a terrified 8-year-old freshman in high school. As he navigated the crowded hallways, his small frame was easily overlooked, but his presence still drew strange looks and whispered comments. He felt extremely uncomfortable and out of place, his heart pounding with every step. By the end of the day, he still hadn't had a single student offer any help or kindness to him.

His last class of the day was Algebra 2, and he felt a flicker of hope. Math had always been his sanctuary, a place where numbers and equations made sense when nothing else did. When he walked into the classroom, he noticed that there was assigned seating. Relief washed over him; at least he wouldn't have to struggle to find somewhere to sit.

As everyone got settled in, Spencer found his assigned seat next to a tall, friendly-looking boy. Before he had a chance to take out his notebook, the boy turned to him and smiled warmly.

"I'm Adam," he said, extending his hand for a handshake.

Spencer looked at the hand and then back up at Adam, feeling a wave of anxiety. "Hi, I'm Spencer, and I don't shake hands," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Adam laughed, not in a mean way, but with genuine amusement. "Hi, Spencer who doesn't shake hands. It's nice to meet you."

Spencer felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. For the first time that day, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, high school wouldn't be so bad after all.

—

Y/N had spent the past few years immersed in the bustling streets and rich culture of Paris, attending a prestigious boarding school that promised to refine her language skills and broaden her horizons. Yet, despite the allure of the City of Light, she often felt the sting of loneliness, her parents' distance echoing even across the ocean. Now, at age 11, she was returning home a month earlier than the American school year ended, her heart a mix of exhaustion and anticipation.

As the chauffeur-driven car pulled up to the grand but cold mansion in the suburbs of Las Vegas, Y/N's heart sank. She had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that her parents would be there to greet her. Instead, the familiar figure of their chauffeur, Robert, was the one to open the car door.

"Welcome home, Miss Y/N," he said with a polite smile.

She forced a smile in return, hiding her disappointment. "Thank you, Robert."

Dragging her feet along the paved path, she entered the house, its opulence doing little to warm the cold emptiness she felt. She made her way to the living room, hoping to find solace in the familiarity of home, but instead, she was met with the unexpected sight of her brother, Adam, and a group of his friends, hunched over textbooks and notebooks.

"Hey, Y/N!" Adam greeted her with a grin, looking up from his textbook. "Welcome back!"

"Hi," she replied, her voice flat. She was too tired and too upset to muster any enthusiasm. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing the familiar faces of her brother's friends that she’d seen in pictures he’d sent. When her eyes finally landed on a boy who was clearly much younger than the rest, with tousled brown hair and a slightly awkward demeanor. He looked up, meeting her gaze with a mixture of curiosity and shyness.

“Who are you?” Y/N hadn’t meant to be rude, she was just slightly shocked to see someone her own age among the older boys.

"This is Spencer," Adam introduced, gesturing to the boy. "Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She just got back from Paris."

"Hi," Spencer said softly, offering a small, tentative smile.

"Hi," Y/N replied, her frustration momentarily forgotten as she took in the boy who seemed as out of place in their luxurious home as she felt. "Nice to meet you."

"Sorry we're invading the living room," Adam said, noticing her weariness. "We're just cramming for finals. Spencer here is a genius when it comes to math and science, so he's been helping us out."

Y/N nodded, her exhaustion catching up with her. "It's fine. I just need to rest, so please, no screaming about fractions."

She turned to head upstairs, her feet thudding against each step as she climbed. She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards the study group, wishing she had that kind of camaraderie during her time in Paris. They didn’t take well to American’s, no matter how long she was there nor how fluent she spoke. But more than anything, she wished her parents had cared enough to be there when she came home.

—

The summer before his senior year stretched out long and hot, with the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the hum of cicadas. Adam, now balancing a job cleaning pools and the pressures of preparing for SATs, ACTs, and college applications, found his days filled to the brim. He wasn't working for the money; his parents' wealth ensured he never had to worry about that. But he wanted to break free from the golden cage, to carve out a future where he wasn’t reliant on his parents.

Y/N watched from the sidelines as her brother’s schedule became increasingly packed. She missed the days when they would goof around together, but understood that Adam had his own life to lead. Meanwhile, Spencer Reid found himself spending more and more time with Adam. Spencer wasn't old enough to work yet, but his days were equally busy with preparations for the same academic hurdles.

One hot afternoon, Adam and Spencer were sitting on the back porch, textbooks and notes spread out between them. Adam was explaining a particularly tricky math problem, his hair falling into his eyes as he spoke. Spencer listened intently, his eyes occasionally flicking up to Adam's face, a subtle admiration in his gaze.

"Got it?" Adam asked, looking over at Spencer with a friendly smile.

Spencer nodded, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Yeah, thanks. You're really good at explaining things."

Adam laughed lightly, clapping Spencer on the back. "No problem, buddy. We make a good team, huh?"

Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the casual touch, his mind racing with unspoken feelings. "Yeah, we do."

Their interactions were always like this—simple, friendly, but with an undercurrent of something more for Spencer. He couldn't help the crush that had developed, even though he knew it was impossible. Adam was older, focused on his future, and saw Spencer as a friend, maybe even a little brother.

One day, as they were packing up their study materials, Adam glanced over at Spencer. "Hey, thanks for helping me stay on track this summer. I know I’ve been busy, but it’s been cool hanging out with you."

Spencer smiled, the words warming his heart. "It's been cool for me too. I’ve learned a lot."

"You're gonna ace those tests, no doubt," Adam said with a confident grin. "And who knows, maybe we'll end up at the same college."

Spencer's eyes lit up at the thought, but he quickly tempered his excitement, not wanting to seem too eager. "Yeah, that would be great."

As Adam slung his bag over his shoulder and headed inside, Spencer lingered on the porch for a moment, watching him go. He knew his feelings for Adam would likely never be reciprocated, but he cherished these moments of closeness, however fleeting they might be.

Y/N observed all this from her bedroom window, a quiet observer to the crush Spencer clearly had on her older brother. She felt the green monster of jealousy coil up inside of her. Why doesn’t Spencer look at her like that? Is she not as smart as Adam? Not as funny? Maybe he only likes older people.

One particularly warm day, Spencer was over to help Adam revise an application essay. They were hanging out by the pool, both to Spencer's excitement and frustration. He didn't want to take his shirt off in front of Adam; he was so scrawny compared to the man Adam was becoming. He didn't even have hair under his arms yet! Spencer found himself getting worked up over the muscle Adam had put on while cleaning pools, feeling increasingly self-conscious.

"Hey, I'm going to grab some lemonade," Spencer said, trying to keep his voice steady as he got up from his lounge chair.

Adam looked up from his notes and nodded. "Sure thing, grab some for me too, will ya?"

Spencer nodded and walked briskly into the house, his thoughts a whirl of admiration and insecurity. As he poured himself a glass of lemonade, having kindly turned down the offer from one of the kitchen staff to do it for him, Y/N walked into the kitchen in a swimsuit. She knew what she was doing; she wanted to see if Spencer would look at her like he did her brother.

"Hi, Spencer," she greeted, her voice casual but her eyes searching.

Spencer almost dropped the pitcher, startled by her sudden appearance. "H-hi, Y/N..."

"How’s it going? Is it hot out there?" she asked, leaning against the counter with an air of nonchalance.

"Mhm, it's hot and, uh, yeah, good. You?" Spencer stammered, trying to keep his eyes on her face and not let them wander. Stupid hormones.

"I'm good, bored. Think I'm gonna go for a swim," Y/N replied, giving him a pointed look.

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling his face heat up. "Oh, cool. Swimming sounds nice."

Y/N nodded. "You should join me sometime. It’s a good way to cool off, especially on days like this."

"I, uh, maybe," Spencer managed, his voice cracking slightly.

She smiled at him. "Well, I'll be out there if you change your mind."

With that, she turned and walked out towards the pool, leaving Spencer standing there, his heart racing. He couldn't help but feel a confusing mix of emotions. He liked Y/N; she was kind and funny in her own way. But his feelings for Adam were something different, something he couldn't quite understand or control.

As he walked back outside with the lemonade, he caught sight of Y/N cannonballing into the pool. Adam looked up and waved Spencer over, oblivious to the tension Spencer was feeling.

"Thanks, man," Adam said, taking the glass from Spencer. "You should take a dip too. Y/N's got the right idea; it's a great way to beat the heat."

Spencer nodded, trying to smile. "Maybe later."

He sat back down, trying to focus on the essay in front of him, but his mind kept wandering. He glanced over at Y/N, who was swimming leisurely, and then at Adam, who was scribbling notes in the margin of his paper. Spencer felt like he was caught in the middle of something he didn't quite understand, struggling to find his place in the dynamics of this family that had become so important to him.

—

The day of Adam's graduation was filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Adam, ever the unexpected, had committed to Florida State, a decision that had shocked and horrified many. Spencer could hardly believe it when he heard the news. Florida State, a school notorious for its party culture, seemed an odd choice for someone who had always been so focused on academics. But Adam was a party boy through and through, and now, with the immense college fund his parents had set up for him, he had the freedom to choose his own path.

That night, Adam's family mansion was abuzz with a grand celebration party. The opulent rooms were filled with friends, family, and well-wishers, all toasting to Adam's future. Spencer, though trying to be happy for his friend, felt a gnawing sense of sadness and anxiety. Graduating at only 12-years-old and moving away to college meant leaving behind the only family that had ever felt like his.

As the party continued, Spencer found himself feeling more and more overwhelmed. Seeking solace, he looked around for Y/N. He found her standing by the grand staircase, looking as though she was taking a brief respite from the festivities.

"Y/N," he called softly, and she turned to him, her eyes filled with concern at his slightly panicked appearance.

"Hey, Spencer," she said gently, sensing his turmoil. "Do you want to go outside?"

Spencer nodded, grateful for her intuition. She led him out of the mansion and into the expansive garden. The night air was cool and soothing, and the garden was a haven of tranquility away from the noise of the party. They walked in silence for a while, the stars twinkling above them like scattered diamonds.

Y/N finally stopped at a secluded spot, a bench under a large oak tree. She sat down and patted the space next to her. Spencer joined her, taking a deep breath as he looked up at the sky.

"I can't believe he's going to Florida State," Spencer said, his voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of sadness.

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, it's a surprise, but it's his choice. He’s an adult now."

Spencer sighed. "I know. It's just... I'm going to miss him. And you. This place feels like home, and now I'm leaving."

Y/N placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll miss you too, Spencer. But you'll do amazing things, I know it. You've always been great."

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "It's just... scary, you know? Moving away, being on my own. What if I don't fit in?"

Y/N smiled warmly. "You will. You always do."

They sat in comfortable silence, gazing up at the stars. The night was calm, the garden a peaceful contrast to the lively celebration inside. Spencer felt a sense of peace wash over him, comforted by Y/N's presence and her words.

"Thank you," he said softly, looking over at her. "For being here. For understanding."

Y/N squeezed his shoulder gently. "I’ll always be here for you, Spencer."

As they sat together, the weight of the impending changes felt a little lighter. The stars above seemed to shine a bit brighter, and for the first time that night, Spencer felt a glimmer of hope for the future.

—

24 years old now, Spencer Reid hadn't thought about Adam in years, but when the invitation arrived in the mail, it brought back a flood of memories. He held the ornate envelope in his hands, his heart pounding with a mix of nostalgia and nerves. The invitation was to Adam's wedding, an event that promised to reunite old friends and acquaintances. Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of obligation to attend. Adam had always been kind to him during those tumultuous high school years.

Despite his apprehension, Spencer decided to go. He meticulously planned his trip, ensuring he had everything he needed to make a good impression. The journey to the wedding venue in Napa Valley, California was a blur of anxious thoughts and memories of the past. As he arrived at the grand hotel where the event was being held, he felt a knot of nerves tightening in his stomach.

Meanwhile, Y/N was also preparing for the wedding. She couldn't help but feel excitement and trepidation at the thought of seeing Spencer again, Adam informed her that he had RSVP’d yes. She had always harbored a silly little crush on him, one that had persisted through the years despite their long separation. The idea of seeing him again, older and perhaps changed, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

The wedding weekend began with a flurry of activities. The hotel was abuzz with guests arriving, mingling, and catching up. Spencer found himself lost in the crowd, his nerves making it difficult to relax. As he checked in at the front desk, the receptionist handed him a key card with a polite smile.

"Here you go, Dr. Reid. Room 212," she said.

Spencer thanked her and made his way to the elevator, his mind racing with thoughts of what the weekend could entail. He arrived at the door to his room and swiped the key card. As he pushed the door open, he was met with an unexpected sight.

Y/N was standing in the middle of the room, her back to him as she attempted to pull up the zipper of her dress. Upon hearing the door open, she spun around with a scream, holding the dress to her chest.

“What the fuck!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

“I’m so sorry!” Spencer stammered, equally startled.

“Spencer?” she said, her expression shifting from surprise to recognition.

“Y/N?” he replied, still trying to process what was happening.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, still clutching the dress to her chest.

“I don’t know, this is the room I was told I'm staying in. My key opened the door…” he explained, holding up the key card as if it could somehow explain everything.

“Shit. Okay. Something must have gotten messed up. I'll check it out as soon as I'm dressed,” Y/N said, her tone calming slightly.

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll just leave you be,” Spencer said, starting to back out of the room.

“Actually… Spencer, could you help me with the zipper?” Y/N asked, her voice softer and a bit embarrassed.

Spencer paused, his face flushing. “Uh, sure. Of course.”

He stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him. Y/N turned around, holding her hair up to give him access to the zipper. His hands trembled slightly as he grasped the zipper, carefully pulling it up the back of her dress.

“Thank you,” she said softly once he had finished.

“No problem,” Spencer replied, stepping back and trying to keep his eyes respectfully averted.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, let’s go sort this out. Maybe the front desk can figure out what happened.”

As they left the room together, Spencer couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of awkwardness and nostalgia. Despite the initial shock, there was something oddly comforting about being in Y/N’s presence again.

—

"So you're saying every single room in the entire hotel is booked? How is that even possible?” Y/N asked, her frustration evident.

“Well, miss, your wedding party is not the only group staying here. It is a very popular vineyard, especially at this time of year,” the receptionist explained calmly.

“So what you’re saying is we have to share this room?” Y/N pressed, trying to find a solution.

“You could stay with someone else, but yes, there are no more rooms available,” the receptionist confirmed.

Y/N sighed deeply, rubbing between her brows. “Okay. Thank you.”

Spencer and Y/N walked away from the desk, both trying to process the situation. Spencer broke the silence with a lighthearted joke. “Hopefully this is the worst thing that will happen this weekend.”

Y/N looked at him, a mix of apology and stress in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t mean to make you think I’d hate to share a room with you… it’s just, this weekend is already going to be stressful.”

“Hey, no, I’m sorry for teasing. It’s okay. It will be like the sleepovers we had as kids,” Spencer said, trying to reassure her.

“You mean where you and Adam slept in the game room and I stayed as far away as possible?” Y/N responded, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Exactly,” Spencer bubbled with laughter, the tension between them easing a bit.

They made their way back to their shared room, Spencer couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic, thinking back to those simpler times. Y/N, too, found herself feeling a bit more at ease, her initial worries about the weekend beginning to fade.

—

Once they were back in the room, Y/N looked over at Spencer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was going to pretend to be courteous and ask what side of the bed you prefer… but I have to sleep next to the window,” she announced, a playful smile on her lips.

“Oh, well, thank you for almost considering my feelings!” Spencer laughed, his tension easing. “I don’t mind either way, but if you snore half as bad as your brother, I’m putting a pillow over your face.”

“Oh my god, that man could cut down trees with that chainsaw he keeps in his mouth!” Y/N exclaimed, her laughter filling the room.

They shared some giggles, the awkwardness between them dissolving into familiarity and warmth.

“It’s really nice to see you, Spencer,” Y/N said sincerely, her eyes softening as she looked at him.

“You too, Y/N. You look so grown up,” Spencer replied, noting the elegance and maturity in her appearance.

“Well, 12 years will do that to someone,” she said with a chuckle, her gaze lingering on him.

“Not me, I still look the same,” Spencer said, shaking his head with a wry smile.

“Yeah,” Y/N tilted her head to the side, studying his face. “You really haven’t changed at all.”

“Okay, easy now,” Spencer protested lightly, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Did you ever grow armpit hair?” she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Hey!” Spencer exclaimed, trying to defend his dignity.

“Oh, come on, Spencer! Show me!” Y/N teased further, taking a playful step towards him.

“No, Y/N. Hey, get away from me!” Spencer laughed as Y/N chased him around the room, her determination to see his armpits turning into a playful game.

With a burst of energy, Y/N ended up tackling him to the bed, sitting successfully on his stomach. “Give it up, Spencer, I win.”

“Nope!” he yelled triumphantly before using all his strength to flip her, pinning her down and tickling her.

Y/N cackled and shouted, “Uncle! Uncle!” between fits of laughter.

When Spencer finally pulled back, they both noticed the precarious position they were in. Spencer was between Y/N’s thighs with his hands by her head, both of them panting in each other’s mouths. The laughter faded as they locked eyes, the weight of the years apart and the sudden closeness creating a charged moment.

“I need to get ready for the rehearsal dinner,” Y/N whispered.

Spencer took the cue and got off of Y/N and the bed. “Mhm, yup. Me too.”

“Um, I showered when I got here. So, uh, I’ll just go get ready in the bridal suite. You can have the room,” Y/N said as she gathered the things she would need to get ready.

“Y/N… you don’t have to leave, I’m sorry.”

“What? Nothing to be sorry about. Just giving you your privacy. See you later, Spencer.”

“Yeah, see—” but she had already shut the door behind her.

Spencer ran his hands over his face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and confusion. What had he been thinking? The sudden intimacy had caught him off guard, and now he felt a pang of regret for how awkward things had become. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and began preparing for the rehearsal dinner, hoping the rest of the evening would go more smoothly.

—

Y/N was not a bridesmaid, but she was fine with that. She wasn't all that interested in the responsibilities and duties that came with it anyway. She was still very close with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Elizabeth, and it was no problem for her to get ready in the bridal suite. Once she explained the mix-up with the rooms, Elizabeth was extremely apologetic and understanding.

At the rehearsal dinner, Y/N’s seat was, of course, next to Spencer’s. He had arrived before her, which meant she spotted the back of his head before she sat down, giving her time to make a run for the open bar before making her way to the table.

As she sat down, Spencer looked over and his breath caught at the sight of her. Y/N looked absolutely radiant in her rehearsal dinner attire. The outfit suited her perfectly, complementing all of her assets and making her eyes shine. Maybe he had been silly to waste all those years alongside her chasing after her brother when she was right there. Although, he figured it probably would have been difficult to maintain a long-distance relationship at 12 while he was in university.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted him, her smile warm and genuine.

“Hi,” Spencer replied, still a bit breathless. “You look... amazing.”

“Thanks,” she said, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Spencer chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Thanks. It’s nice to be here. I mean, it’s been so long.”

“Yeah, it has,” Y/N agreed, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s crazy how time flies.”

As they settled into conversation, the initial awkwardness from earlier seemed to dissipate. They talked about their lives, their work, and the memories from their youth, finding common ground and shared experiences. The laughter and joyfulness that had once defined their friendship began to resurface, making the evening feel less like a reunion of strangers and more like a gathering of old friends.

Throughout the dinner, Spencer couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N, marveling at how she had grown into such a beautiful and confident woman. The realization that he might have missed something special by focusing so much on Adam gnawed at him, but he tried to push those thoughts aside and enjoy the present moment.

After all the speeches were given and the eating was rehearsed, the youngest and oldest of the crowd turned into their rooms for the night. The bridal party and groomsmen left as well, all needing to be up very early. This left the young to middle-aged adults to the complimentary after-dinner party. There were free drinks, a dance floor, karaoke, and dimmed lighting.

Y/N looked over at Spencer, not knowing if this was his cup of tea or not. “Do you want to stay for a bit?”

The idea of cutting the night short didn't sit well with him, especially not with how Y/N was looking at him. “No, no, I'd like to stay if you do.”

“Sure,” she smiled. “I’ll stay.”

The two walked over to the bar to get a drink. Spencer had very rarely indulged in alcohol. Gideon had tried to introduce him to scotch, which he hated. Hotch had shown him whiskey, which wasn’t as bad but still too strong. Derek ordered him a Sex on the Beach that he really liked but was too embarrassed to order on his own. So he didn't know what he was going to do when the bartender looked at him.

“What will you have, miss?” the bartender asked Y/N.

“Just an appletini, please,” she replied. The bartender nodded and turned his attention to Spencer.

Spencer could feel his palms sweat as he ran over every drink he knew of. Y/N leaned over and asked, “Do you want me to order for you?”

Spencer nodded gratefully and whispered his order in her ear. Y/N pulled away, absolutely delighted. She told the bartender his drink before looking back to Spencer and saying, “At least ask me on a date first, you men are all the same,” teasing the poor red man.

Spencer blushed furiously but couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you,” he said, his embarrassment mingling with amusement.

The bartender soon returned with their drinks—Y/N’s appletini and Spencer’s Sex on the Beach. Y/N handed Spencer his drink, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Here you go, pervert. Enjoy.”

Spencer blushed even more, laughing despite himself. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip and feeling the sweet, fruity flavors calm his nerves.

They moved to a small table near the dance floor, the music a pleasant background to their conversation. Y/N sipped her drink and looked around, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.

“So, Dr. Reid,” she began, her tone playful, “what’s your favorite part about weddings?”

Spencer thought for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips. “Honestly, I’ve never been to a wedding before. Have you?”

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah. I think my favorite part is the dancing. I’ve always wanted someone to swing me around the dance floor at a wedding, it looks so romantic.”

Spencer took note of what Y/N was saying, thinking that maybe he could be the one to dance her around tomorrow at the reception. “You know, I never said thank you,” Spencer said.

“For what?” Y/N tilted her head.

“For being nice to me, you and Adam both. You never laughed at me or made me feel weird for being so young and advanced.”

“Spencer…” Y/N said with a hint of questioning in her voice. “Why would we make fun of you for being smart? Oh ha ha, look at this guy, he knows way more than us.”

Spencer chuckled. “I know, but still, thank you.”

Y/N smiled warmly, reaching across the table to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. “You’re welcome, Spencer. You’ve always been special to us.”

Spencer felt his heart grow ten sizes at her words, 'us,' and the fact that Y/N remembered his aversion for touching hands. Screw Adam and Elizabeth, he’d marry Y/N tomorrow. Now, that might be a little dramatic, but whatever.

As Spencer and Y/N continued to catch up and enjoy each other's company, they also consumed more drinks. The alcohol birthed an idea in Y/N’s pretty head, quite a good one if she says so.

“Spencer,” she leaned in, her voice playful.

“Yes, ma'am,” he responded, also leaning in until their foreheads pressed together.

Y/N giggled before sharing her idea, “We should go swimming.”

“What? Where?” Spencer asked, bewildered.

“The hotel has a pool!” she exclaimed, her excitement infectious.

“Isn’t it closed by now?” Spencer asked, skeptical but intrigued.

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head against his, her movement causing his glasses to brush against her eyebrows. “It’s open 24/7.”

Spencer was nervous; he knew Y/N liked to swim, but he wasn’t very good at it, not having done much swimming since his last summer with Adam. But he couldn’t say no to her, it would appear.

“Okay, let’s go,” he agreed, the decision making his heart race.

Y/N squealed in delight, grabbing Spencer by his bicep and dragging him behind her. She squeezed the muscle in her hand before wiggling her eyebrows at him and saying, “Wow, doctor, did you put on some muscle?”

Spencer blushed something fierce. “I had to, I’m in the FBI.”

“Ohh good, I’m gonna need a big strong man in case we get into danger,” Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Spencer felt like he already was in danger, but a kind he was willing to face.

—

Once at the pool, they were both relieved to find no one else there; it was pretty late after all. As they approached the water, Spencer suddenly realized a flaw in Y/N's plan.

“Y/N, wait,” he grabbed her arm. “What about swimsuits?”

She smirked at him and pulled her arm away before grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it off. Spencer's eyes were as wide as saucers, hilariously magnified by his frames.

“Close your mouth, doctor. Wouldn't want you to catch flies,” she teased, and with that, she jumped into the pool.

As Y/N resurfaced, Spencer noticed her makeup was impressively intact, probably some of that new waterproof stuff they make. She swam over to the edge in front of Spencer before looking up at him with a gaze not unlike a siren luring in prey.

“Come on in, Spence. The water feels amazing,” she coaxed, her voice soft and inviting.

Spencer, under the influence of something much stronger than alcohol, started shedding his clothes down to his briefs. Y/N wolf-whistled once he had his shirt off, causing a full-body flush to take over him. As soon as he was down to his last article, he jumped into the water to avoid her staring any longer.

The cool water enveloped him, a refreshing contrast to the heat he felt under Y/N's gaze. He surfaced, pushing his hair back and adjusting his glasses, which had miraculously stayed on.

“There you are,” Y/N said, swimming over to him. “Isn’t this nice?”

“Yeah,” Spencer admitted, feeling a bit more at ease now that he was in the water. “It’s actually really nice.”

“Are you ready?” Y/N asked, her voice low and taunting, getting very close to Spencer in the water, their bodies almost touching.

Spencer felt like he was going to pass out. “Re–ready for what?”

“Race ya!” she exclaimed, and with that, she was off, swimming away with powerful strokes.

Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden challenge. Then, with a determined look, he launched himself after her, his competitive spirit kicking in despite his nerves. The cool water rushed past him as he swam, his strokes becoming more confident as he pushed himself to keep up with Y/N.

She reached the far end of the pool first, touching the wall and turning to see Spencer still making his way towards her. She laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night air.

“You’re slow, Dr. Reid!” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Spencer reached the wall, panting but smiling. “Not all of us are part fish, Y/N.”

“Hey, I’m not that fast,” she said with a playful pout. “You did pretty well for someone who has never won a swimming race, ever.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replied, catching his breath. “But next time, I’ll beat you.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he said, feeling bolder. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I like when you get cocky, it suits you,” Y/N said, her voice dropping to a flirtatious purr as she swam closer to him, their bodies almost touching again.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest. “Oh really? I didn’t know I had it in me.”

“There’s a lot you have in you, Spencer,” she replied, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made his breath catch. “Maybe you just need the right person to bring it out.”

“And who, um–who do you think that person is?” he asked, his voice trembling and nervous.

“Someone who,” she whispered, her lips just inches from his. “Would have se–”

“Hey! What are you two doing in here?” a security guard called out.

“Nothing!” Spencer yelped.

“Just leaving!” Y/N added quickly.

They scrambled out of the pool, grabbing their clothes and running down a hallway towards the elevators. Once they were safely inside one, they looked at each other and started laughing.

“I thought you said it was open all night!” Spencer exclaimed between breaths.

“I may have told a fib to get you to come swimming with me,” Y/N admitted, giving her best puppy dog eyes. “Are you mad at me, Spence?”

Spencer could see her hard nipples poking through the soaking wet, thin material of her bra and couldn’t find himself to be anything but aroused. “Uh, no, no. Not mad, that was fun.”

Y/N caught him looking but didn’t say anything. What man wouldn’t look at wet breasts right in his face?

“Yeah, it was,” she agreed, smiling. “Thanks for going with me.”

As Spencer looked up at the ceiling to avoid staring at Y/N’s half-naked body, she took her opportunity to glance down at his scantily concealed half hard bulge. She could see the entire outline through his wet, hot pink briefs.

“Never took you as a pink guy, doctor,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Spencer blushed fiercely, trying to cover himself with his clothes. “They were a gift,” he mumbled, embarrassed but unable to keep from smiling.

“Well, I think they suit you,” she said with a wink.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped out, making their way back to their room, still dripping wet and grinning from ear to ear. Once inside, they both burst out laughing again, the adrenaline from their escapade still coursing through them.

“Here,” Y/N said, grabbing a couple of towels from the bathroom and tossing one to Spencer. “Dry off before you catch a cold.”

“Thanks,” he replied, wrapping the towel around himself. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Me neither,” she admitted, toweling off her hair. “But it was worth it.”

Spencer nodded, his heart still racing. “Yeah, it was.”

They both stood there for a moment, wrapped in towels and basking in the afterglow of their impromptu adventure. The tension between them was palpable, but so was the camaraderie and affection.

“Well,” Y/N said finally, breaking the silence. “I guess we should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed reluctantly, not wanting the evening to end. “Uh, do you want to shower first?”

“Thanks, Spencer,” Y/N nodded her head and grabbed her things.

The next 10 minutes were the hardest, literally, of Spencer's entire life. Knowing Y/N was naked and wet on the other side of the door was pure torture. He could hear the water running, imagine the steam filling the room, and envision her silhouette behind the shower curtain. When Y/N cracked open the bathroom door and peeked her head out, Spencer sat up faster than ever before, super not obvious at all.

“Sorry… I kind of forgot to bring any clothes in, so I need to come out in my towel. Is that okay?” she asked, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“Ye–yeah. Mhm,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s totally fine, no big deal. Why would I care?”

“Okay, weirdo,” Y/N looked at him skeptically, a playful glint in her eye. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

Spencer nodded and waited until Y/N was facing her suitcase to make a break for it, sprinting to the bathroom so she didn't see his very prominent boner tenting his pants. Y/N turned around quickly at the sound of the bathroom door slamming, finding his behavior odd.

In the shower, Spencer turned the water to cold and willed his erection away. The icy water was a shock to his system, but he needed it to calm down. He had not indulged much in self-pleasure and had certainly never seen as much of a woman as he saw today, let alone been touched by one. Eventually, it did go down, and he got out, only to realize he hadn't brought a towel. Of fucking course.

Spencer was now the one sticking his head out of the crack he made in the doorway, “Y/N…?”

“Yeah, Spencer, what’s up?” she called back, now sitting in the bed.

“I, um, forgot a towel,” he admitted, feeling his face heat up again.

“Oh shit, let me grab yours,” Y/N replied, getting up and walking over to his bag to retrieve the towel.

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to make himself as small as possible behind the door.

When Y/N walked over to hand the towel to Spencer, she couldn’t help but immediately break into giggles.

“Oh, that’s what every guy wants to hear. What is it?” Spencer asked, mortified, his head barely poking out from behind the door.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped between laughs, “it’s just that I can see your butt in the mirror.”

Completely horrified, Spencer slammed the door shut and banged his head on it. “Can we please forget about this?” he groaned, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Absolutely not! You have the cutest ass I’ve ever seen!” Y/N called out, her laughter echoing through the room.

Spencer felt his face burn even more as he dried off and quickly dressed. When he emerged from the bathroom, he avoided eye contact with Y/N, who was still chuckling softly, a wide grin on her face.

“Ready for bed?” she asked, a playful glint in her eye, clearly still amused by the situation.

“Yeah,” Spencer mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment as he climbed into his side of the bed.

They settled into their respective sides, the awkwardness from the bathroom incident lingering but slowly giving way to a more comfortable silence.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” Y/N said softly, turning off the bedside lamp and snuggling under the covers.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, settling into his pillow and trying to calm his racing thoughts.

As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, Spencer couldn’t help but smile. Despite the awkward moments and his own nervousness, he felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt since that last summer. This weekend, for all its surprises, was turning out to be something special. And as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

—

When the room’s phone began ringing with a wake-up call in the morning, both Y/N and Spencer groaned at being woken up. Y/N stuck her arm out, grabbed the phone, and hung it up to stop the sound rattling in her head. Much to her surprise and gratitude, she was not hungover, just very tired. She went to roll over to go back to sleep when she noticed her body was being restricted by multiple different body parts, none of which belonged to her.

Spencer had one arm around her waist, his other beneath his head, one leg on her hip, and the other between both of her legs. The man had wrapped himself around her like a human octopus. He was also awake, not having slept through the wake-up call, but was paralyzed out of fear or embarrassment, maybe both.

Y/N felt him tense up and his breathing grow rapid, signaling that he was awake. “Well, good morning to you too, Dr. Reid. Or is it Doc Ock?” she teased, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Spencer mumbled, his face burning with embarrassment.

“I know I am, thank you,” Y/N said, a smirk playing on her lips.

They lay in silence for a few more moments, both of them thoroughly enjoying the feeling of the other's body pressed against their own.

“So, not that I'm complaining, but were you planning on letting me go anytime soon?” Y/N asked, amusement evident in her tone.

“Oh god, yes. I'm so sorry,” Spencer said, hurriedly trying to disentangle himself. In his haste, he managed to rub his morning wood against Y/N’s ass.

“Jesus, Reid! Any of your other body parts you want to touch me with?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“No, nope. Actually, I think I'm just going to open the window and jump out. I think the 15 floors will kill me,” he said, his voice muffled from behind his hands that were hiding his extremely red face.

Y/N laughed softly, reaching out to gently pull his hands away from his face. “Hey, it’s okay. It happens,” she said, her tone reassuring. “No need to jump out the window.”

Spencer looked at her, still blushing but grateful for her understanding. “Thanks, Y/N. I’m really sorry about that.”

She shrugged, giving him a playful smile. “It’s all part of the fun, right? Besides, I’d miss having you around.”

Spencer managed a small smile, feeling a bit better. “I’d miss you too.”

They lay there for a moment longer, the initial awkwardness giving way to a comfortable silence. Until Y/N, unable to resist tormenting Spencer, said, “Did you want a hand with that?”

“What??” he half-squeaked, half-screamed.

Y/N threw her head back, laughing hard in the early morning light shining in.

“You’re so mean,” Spencer muttered, his face a deep shade of red.

“Aww, did you really want me to?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’m not answering that,” he replied, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

“All in good time, young grasshopper,” Y/N said, patting his arm playfully.

Spencer, rolling his eyes and unable to stand Y/N’s antics any longer, got out of bed to get ready for the day. He needed coffee, and maybe 50,000 shots of alcohol. What he failed to consider was that he was still hard, in loose gray sweats, and that he was sharing a room with Y/N, the worst person, ever.

“Whoa baby! I didn’t realize you were holding out on me! Get back here!” Y/N called out, patting the bed and laughing even harder.

Spencer, mortified, ran to the bathroom, his face burning with embarrassment. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, trying to calm his racing heart. The cold shower earlier had been nothing compared to the icy plunge he felt now, thanks to Y/N’s relentless teasing.

Inside the bathroom, he took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. He couldn’t deny that a part of him enjoyed the playful banter, but another part of him was utterly overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings. He needed to collect himself and face the day, starting with a much-needed cup of coffee.

Back in the room, Y/N was still chuckling to herself, thoroughly amused by Spencer's reactions. She began getting ready, her thoughts drifting to the upcoming events of the day and the unexpected pleasure of Spencer’s company. Despite her teasing, she was genuinely glad he was there.

As Spencer emerged from the bathroom, now somewhat composed, he glanced at Y/N, who was busy with her morning routine. “Truce?” he offered, a tentative smile on his lips.

“Truce,” Y/N agreed, smiling back at him. “For now.”

They both laughed, the tension easing as they continued preparing for the day ahead. The morning light filled the room, promising a day full of possibilities and perhaps, a few more moments of unexpected connection.

—

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the vineyard as Y/N and Spencer wandered through the charming village, the scent of grapes and fresh earth filling the air. They didn’t have much to do in preparation for the wedding, so they decided to venture out in search of coffee. The village was picturesque, with cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and inviting cafés.

As they strolled, chatting about old memories and catching up, they suddenly found themselves face-to-face with a woman Y/N recognized all too well. Christa, one of the girls who used to bully Spencer in high school, stood before them. Adam had warned Y/N about all the mean girls and boys, just in case they had any younger siblings at the school.

“Oh my god! No way! It’s the baby freak and boarding school!” Christa exclaimed, her voice dripping with mock surprise and disdain.

Spencer immediately tensed, the old nickname hitting him like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t been called that in years. Y/N, feeling a surge of protectiveness, stepped forward.

“Christa!” Y/N exclaimed with a bright, exaggerated smile, moving in for an overly enthusiastic hug that left Christa visibly uncomfortable. Christa awkwardly patted Y/N’s back, clearly thrown off by the unexpected embrace.

“Uh, hi,” Christa muttered, her confidence wavering.

“How are you? What has it been, 15 years? You don’t look a day over 40,” Y/N said cheerfully.

“I’m 30,” Christa replied, her tone icy.

“Oh… well, sunscreen is your best friend!” Y/N said, her voice dripping with false innocence.

Christa’s face twisted in offense, while Spencer struggled to hide his laughter behind a cough.

“Baby freak… you look exactly the same. Still scaring everyone away with your freaky genius powers?” Christa sneered, her eyes narrowing at Spencer.

“I–uh, no, I–” Spencer stammered, the old insecurities rushing back.

“Spencer, here,” Y/N said, emphasizing his name, “is not a baby, maybe compared to the looks of you. And he is not a freak, unless you want to talk about more private matters, but judging by the turn of your nose and the stick up your ass, I’m going to go ahead and assume you have no idea what I’m talking about. How long has it been since a real human touched you?”

Christa was speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to come up with a retort. Finally, she sneered, “I bet Spencer’s never been touched by a human ever.”

Spencer looked down, his face turning red with embarrassment, feeling like the insecure 12-year-old all over again.

“Really? Like this?” Y/N said, pulling Spencer down into a kiss before Christa could say another word.

The kiss was brief but intense, and when Y/N pulled back, Spencer’s eyes were wide with surprise, his cheeks flushed. Christa stood there, stunned and utterly speechless, unable to come up with a reply.

Y/N turned back to Christa with a triumphant smile. “Awe, Christa, you look like a fish. Never speak to me or my boyfriend ever again, okay? Okay, sweetie. So good to see you!”

With that, Y/N took Spencer’s arm and led him away, leaving Christa standing in the middle of the street, fuming and defeated.

As they walked away, Spencer glanced over at Y/N, his heart still racing from the unexpected kiss. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Y/N squeezed his arm gently, a warm smile on her face. “Anytime, Spencer. You deserve better than people like her.”

They continued their walk, the tension from the encounter melting away as they enjoyed each other’s company, feeling closer than ever before. The weekend had taken another unexpected turn, but this time, it was for the better.

—

After grabbing their coffee, Spencer and Y/N realized they still had plenty of time before they had to start getting ready for the wedding. The charm of Napa Valley beckoned, and they decided to indulge in one of the region’s finest offerings: wine tasting. The idea seemed perfect, a way to enjoy the beautiful vineyard and create some new memories.

They made their way back to the vineyard and signed up for a tour. As they strolled through the rows of grapevines, Y/N kept her hand looped around Spencer's arm. It felt natural, a comforting closeness that neither of them felt the need to mention. The guide led them through the process of winemaking, from grape to glass, sharing interesting tidbits and answering questions.

Once the tour concluded, they were led to a private table on one of the many balconies the vineyard’s main building had to offer. The view was breathtaking, with rolling hills and endless rows of vines stretching out under the clear blue sky. A tasting flight of wine was set before them, each glass glistening with rich, inviting hues.

Y/N took a sip from the first glass, savoring the flavor before turning to Spencer. “So… about earlier,” she began, her voice soft.

Spencer nodded, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Yeah. That was… unexpected.”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Y/N said, looking at him earnestly. “I just couldn’t stand her talking to you like that.”

Spencer shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t overstep. It was… nice. Surprising, but nice. No one’s ever stood up for me like that before.”

Y/N blushed slightly, taking another sip of her wine. “Well, you deserved it. She was horrible.”

Spencer glanced at her, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything. It’s been a long time since I felt… protected.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome. And for what it’s worth, you could have handled it really well all on your own. I just… wanted to make sure she knew she couldn’t mess with you.”

Spencer chuckled, relaxing more as he took a sip from his glass. “You definitely made that clear.”

They continued their tasting, discussing the nuances of each wine, but the earlier conversation had brought them even closer. The view, the wine, and the company made for a perfect moment, one that felt both nostalgic and new.

As they moved through the tasting flight, they found themselves laughing and reminiscing about old times, the tension from the earlier encounter long forgotten. The vineyard, with its serene beauty, provided the perfect backdrop for reconnecting, and they both felt a sense of peace and happiness that had been missing for too long.

Y/N looked out over the balcony, her hand still resting lightly on Spencer's arm. “I’m glad we’re here,” she said softly. “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too,” Spencer replied, his voice equally soft. “It’s like coming home.”

They clinked their glasses together, a silent toast to new beginnings and cherished memories. The weekend held more surprises, but for now, they were content to simply enjoy each other’s company, letting the wine and the moment carry them away.

“Speaking of home… do you think you’d ever come back?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

“To Las Vegas?” Spencer replied, looking at her curiously.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, feeling somewhat hopeful.

Spencer took a moment, thinking it over. “I’ve never thought about it, really.”

“Oh, I guess if I left, I wouldn’t want to come back either,” Y/N said, a hint of sadness creeping into her tone.

“Y/N… it’s not that. There’s just nothing there for me anymore.”

“Yeah, nothing,” she said bitterly, sipping her wine.

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant,” Spencer said quickly, his eyes wide with concern.

“It’s okay, Spencer. You don’t have to pretend. We haven’t talked in over a decade. I can’t blame you,” Y/N said, looking down at her glass.

“Y/N–” Spencer began, but she cut him off.

“I’m going to head back and get ready. Can you give me an hour alone, please?” she asked, her voice strained.

“Yeah, of course,” Spencer said softly, his heart sinking.

Y/N stood up, giving him a small, tight smile before walking away. Spencer watched her go, feeling a pang of regret. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and now he felt the weight of their years apart more heavily than ever. He sat there for a moment longer, staring out at the vineyard, before deciding to take a walk to clear his mind.

The serene beauty of the vineyard provided some solace, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. He realized how much he had missed her, how much he had missed having someone who understood him. The years had created a distance between them, but he hoped that this weekend could be a step towards bridging that gap.

As he wandered back to the room an hour later, he knocked softly on the door, giving Y/N the space she had asked for. He hoped they could find a way to reconnect, to rebuild the bond they once had. The weekend was far from over, and he was determined to make things right.

—

By the time the ceremony rolled around, Y/N and Spencer hadn't talked yet but took their seats next to each other. Spencer tried to apologize again, but Y/N brushed him off, telling him it was okay. The ceremony was beautiful and didn't drag on too long. Y/N cried, and Spencer put his arm around her shoulders, letting her cry on him.

They took their seats for dinner after, being seated again with her parents and close family. Though her parents weren't there for the rehearsal dinner, they were now. Spencer was extremely nervous, having never gotten a good read on Y/N and Adam's parents before. All he knew was that they shipped their young children off to boarding school and then left them home with hired staff more often than not.

As the first course was being served, Y/N's mother eyed Spencer with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. “Y/N, who is this man you brought?” she asked, her tone sharp.

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Mother, this is Spencer Reid. He grew up with us, don’t you remember?”

Her mother pursed her lips, shaking her head. “No.”

“I’m not surprised,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Her father, catching the exchange, leaned in. “Watch your tone, that’s your mother.”

“I’m 24,” Y/N said, her voice steady but strained.

“And you’re still our child,” her father retorted.

“I’ve been financially independent since I was 18. What are you going to do? Take my salad fork?” Y/N shot back, her frustration evident.

Her parents rolled their eyes in unison. “No wonder it’s your brother getting married and not you,” her mother sneered. “You were always so bitter. Determined to hold grudges.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open, ready to fire back, but Spencer quickly intervened. “Actually, Y/N and I have been together for what, 2 years, darling?” he said, his voice smooth and confident.

Y/N was momentarily stunned, but then a wicked smile crept across her face. “Yes, baby. And that present you gave me for our anniversary was so… sensual. I can still feel it,” she said, biting her lip for effect.

Spencer tried to contain his laughter, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looked at Y/N.

Her mother’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Y/N L/N! You are incorrigible.”

Y/N shrugged, unfazed. “I don’t care,” she said, a defiant glint in her eye.

The table fell into an awkward silence, but Spencer felt a sense of triumph. He had managed to diffuse the situation and even brought a smile to Y/N’s face. As the dinner progressed, they exchanged knowing glances, each feeling a little more at ease despite the tension surrounding them.

As soon as people were encouraged to get up from their tables, Y/N and Spencer shot up. Their first stop was the open bar, both needing a drink after enduring a whole dinner with her parents.

“Can we get an appletini and a sex on the beach?” Spencer ordered, his voice only shaking slightly.

“Spence!” Y/N yelled, hitting his arm playfully. “I’m so proud of you!”

He smiled to himself, feeling a sense of accomplishment. They stood at the bar, sipping their drinks as they observed the crowd. The lively atmosphere was a welcome contrast to the tension they had just experienced. Y/N’s eyes were on the couples dancing, and Spencer remembered what she had said earlier about wanting someone to swing her around the dance floor.

“Do you want to dance?” Spencer asked, turning to her.

“Oh no, it’s okay. I know you don’t like to dance,” Y/N replied, her gaze lingering on the dance floor.

“Y/N… I want to dance with you. Do you want to dance with me?” Spencer asked, his eyes earnest.

“Yes, very much,” Y/N said, her face lighting up with a smile.

Spencer set his drink down and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. The music was a soft, romantic melody, perfect for a slow dance. As they found a spot, Spencer placed his hands gently on her waist, and Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed to the music, the world around them fading as they focused on each other.

“I can’t believe I’m finally doing this,” Y/N said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Me neither,” Spencer replied, his voice equally soft. “I’m glad it’s with you.”

Y/N’s eyes were shining. “You’ve always been special to me, Spencer.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You too, Y/N.”

Her heart raced at his bold gesture, not expecting such a move from Spencer. They stayed on the dance floor for a few more songs, enjoying the moment and the connection that had been rekindled. Eventually, Spencer took Y/N's hand and led her away from the floor.

“Spence… you’re holding my hand,” Y/N said, glancing down at their intertwined fingers.

“I am,” Spencer replied, his voice steady.

“You don’t do that,” she pointed out, her heart still fluttering.

“I don’t,” he agreed, looking at her with a small smile.

“But you are,” she continued, her eyes searching his.

“Right again,” Spencer said, his smile widening.

“Why?” Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Because I like you,” Spencer admitted, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she hadn’t seen before.

Y/N felt her breath catch, her heart pounding in her chest. “You… you like me?”

Spencer nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “Yes, Y/N. I like you. I guess I was just too afraid to admit it before.”

A smile slowly spread across Y/N's face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I like you too, Spencer. I always have, since we were kids.”

Spencer's face lit up with relief and happiness. “Really?”

“Really,” Y/N confirmed, squeezing his hand.

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background as they gazed at each other. The years of separation and unspoken feelings seemed to melt away, leaving only the warmth of their rekindled connection.

“Do you want to get some fresh air?” Spencer asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Y/N replied, her smile never wavering.

They walked hand in hand out to the vineyard’s garden, the night air cool and refreshing. The walk through the garden was very much reminiscent of the last time they saw each other. The path was lined with twinkling lights, casting a soft glow over the grapevines and flowers.

“Did you really not know I liked you all those years ago? I was so obvious. I did everything to get your attention,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“No, I really didn’t know. I just thought you were really nice!” Spencer replied, his brow furrowing in surprise.

“And you liked Adam,” Y/N stated, a hint of a teasing smile on her lips.

“I–I, what??” Spencer stammered, caught off guard.

“It’s okay, Spence, he doesn’t know,” Y/N said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew. I could see it in the way you looked at him. It’s fine, really,” Y/N said, her voice gentle.

Spencer looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and relief. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward back then.”

Y/N shook her head, her smile softening. “You didn’t. I just wish I had known how to tell you how I felt. I was always so nervous around you.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him. “I was nervous around you too. I didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I guess we were both a bit clueless.”

They laughed together, the sound carrying through the quiet night. As they continued their walk, the memories of the past seemed to blend with the present, creating a sense of closure and a new beginning.

“Do you think things would have been different if we had talked about it back then?” Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Maybe,” Y/N said thoughtfully. “But we were just kids, and you had so much ahead of you.”

Spencer nodded, feeling content with her answer. They reached a bench under a large oak tree and sat down, the stars twinkling above them. Y/N leaned her head on Spencer’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close.

“I would move back home,” Spencer said softly.

“What?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with warmth and curiosity.

“I would move back home,” Spencer repeated, his voice steady. “If it meant being with you eventually. I’d come back to Las Vegas.”

Y/N lifted her head to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise and emotion. “Spencer, you don’t have to do that for me. We aren’t even dating.”

“I know,” he said, gently cupping her cheek with his hand. “But I want to. You were always like home to me, Y/N. Being with you feels right.”

“I would never ask you to give up your job; you worked so hard to get there,” Y/N shook her head.

“But I—”

“Stop,” Y/N interrupted, pulling away from his touch. Her heart raced, and she felt a wave of panic wash over her. “This is too much, Spencer. We’ve just reconnected, and now you’re talking about uprooting your entire life for me. It’s overwhelming.”

Spencer’s face fell, his hand dropping to his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just wanted you to know how important you are to me.”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “I appreciate that, really. But we need to take things slow. I need time to process all of this.”

Spencer nodded, though the disappointment was clear in his eyes. “Of course. I understand. We’ll take it slow.”

There was an awkward silence between them, the weight of their conversation hanging heavily in the air. Y/N felt a mix of guilt and relief, unsure of how to navigate the intense emotions swirling inside her.

After a few moments, Spencer spoke again, his voice soft. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you. I just care about you a lot.”

Y/N managed a small smile, her heart aching. “I care about you too, Spencer. But let’s just see where things go, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, though the tension between them remained palpable.

They spent the rest of the evening in a subdued silence, both lost in their thoughts. Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of unease, and she wondered if she had made a mistake. But she also knew she needed to follow her instincts and not rush into anything that didn’t feel right.

That night, the walk back to their room was a silent torture. Each step felt heavier than the last, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Spencer desperately wanted to fix things, but he didn’t know how.

When they finally reached their room, Y/N wordlessly grabbed a pillow and placed it between their bodies on the bed, creating a physical barrier that mirrored the emotional distance between them. The gesture was small, but it felt like a chasm had opened up.

Spencer lay on his side, staring at the wall, his heart aching. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to reassure her, but he couldn’t bring himself to cross that line. The fear of pushing her further away was paralyzing.

What was far worse, was when Spencer woke up to an empty bed and an empty hotel room. Panic set in as he called out her name, hoping she was just in the bathroom or getting breakfast. But there was no response.

The reality of the situation hit him hard. Once again, he had managed to lose one of the only people who ever felt like home. The weight of that loss settled in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong.

The silence of the room was deafening, and the loneliness was overwhelming. Spencer knew he had to find a way to make things right, but at that moment, he felt utterly lost and alone.

—

Downstairs, Spencer was checking out when he heard a familiar voice call his name. He turned around to see Adam bounding towards him.

“Hey buddy!” Adam, as broad as ever, swept him into a hug, picking him up in his excitement.

“Whoa! Hi!” Spencer laughed, caught off guard by the enthusiastic greeting.

“How are you? Thank you so much for coming. I’m sorry it’s been so crazy, I can’t believe I almost missed you!”

“Yeah, hah. Glad I ran into you,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his composure despite the turmoil inside.

Adam, unaware of Spencer's inner turmoil, continued with a big grin, “So, I heard you had to bunk with old Petit Chou.”

“Y/N? Yeah, I did,” Spencer replied, the nickname bringing back a wave of memories.

“How was it? Was it like old times?” Adam asked, his tone cheerful and curious.

“Um, no, not really. We got along a lot better,” Spencer admitted, a small, sad smile forming on his lips.

“Oh, you dog! Did you sleep with my sister?” Adam's tone was teasing, but he looked extremely pleased.

Spencer's eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. We just... caught up.”

Adam laughed, clapping Spencer on the back. “Well, I’m glad you two reconnected. She always had a soft spot for you, you know.”

Spencer forced a smile, trying to push away the sadness. “Yeah, me too. She’s... she’s great.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Adam teased in a big brotherly fashion.

“So, I thought you’d be gone by now on your honeymoon?” Spencer asked.

“Oh no, Lizzie wanted to have some time as newlyweds in our house first. You know, get settled in, put all the presents away and such before we leave. She really thinks everything through,” Adam explained, love evident in the way he talked about Elizabeth.

“She sounds wonderful. I’m so happy for you, man,” Spencer said sincerely.

“Thank you, little dude. Are there any lucky ladies in your life? Lucky lads?” Adam asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Huh, no,” Spencer replied, shaking his head.

“Dude, you should have totally made a move on Y/N! She yapped about you for years after you left. When I told her you were gonna be here, she practically threw away her suitcase and bought all new clothes, wanting to make a good impression or something,” Adam said with a grin.

“What?” Spencer choked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Yeah, man, she had it baddd. It was kind of cute,” Adam chuckled.

“Oh, I had no idea,” Spencer said, feeling a little bit of shock and regret.

“Well, if you’re ever in Vegas, you know who to call,” Adam said, clapping Spencer on the back.

“Yeah... where are you living nowadays?” Spencer asked, trying to shift the conversation.

“Georgia! Met sweet little Lizzie at Florida State and followed her home after graduation. Never left,” Adam replied, his eyes shining with happiness.

“That’s great, Adam. I’m really happy for you,” Spencer said, genuinely pleased for his friend.

“Thanks, man. And seriously, don’t be a stranger. If you’re ever in the area, you’ve got a place to stay,” Adam said, giving Spencer another friendly hug.

As they finished checking out, Spencer’s mind raced with thoughts of Y/N. He needed to talk to her, to clear the air and understand what had gone wrong. But for now, he was grateful for the brief distraction that Adam had provided. It gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to make things right.

—

Y/N went back home, feeling the weight of the weekend pressing heavily on her. She barely had time to sit down and process everything when her best friend and roommate, Billie, showed up at her bedroom door, armed with snacks and drinks.

“Hey, thought you could use some company,” Billie said, giving Y/N a warm hug as they entered.

“Thanks, Billie,” Y/N replied, her voice tinged with sadness.

They settled on the couch, surrounded by an array of comfort food and drinks. Billie opened a bag of chips and handed it to Y/N. “So, tell me everything.”

Y/N sighed, taking a deep breath before recounting the events of the weekend. She told Billie about reconnecting with Spencer, the intense emotions, and the difficult conversation that left her feeling lost and confused.

“I feel so silly,” Y/N said, heaving a big sigh. “Mourning something I can’t have. We live on opposite sides of the country. How would it ever work?”

Billie reached over, giving Y/N’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not silly at all. Feelings don’t follow logic. You’re allowed to feel sad, even if it seems impractical.”

“I just... I really thought maybe we could make it work,” Y/N said, her voice breaking.

“Hey, you never know what the future holds. Maybe things will change, or maybe you’ll find a way to be together despite the distance,” Billie said, their tone comforting.

“But what if we don’t? What if it’s just not meant to be?” Y/N asked, her eyes searching Billie’s for answers.

“Then it's not, you can't control what's out of your hands,” Billie said, offering a comforting smile.

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. They spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. While the ache in Y/N’s heart didn’t completely disappear, she felt a sense of peace over the situation.

—

Spencer wanted to reach out to Y/N, knowing he couldn't even use the excuse of not having her phone number—one of his best friends could hack the Pentagon for fun if she wanted. But he didn’t want to face the rejection he had a feeling would be coming his way. He knew it was impractical: his job was demanding, they lived nowhere near each other, and on top of that, they didn’t even know if they would work. Maybe the magic between them only existed in the air of the wedding.

They went weeks in radio silence, both resigning to move on. They had gone 12 years without each other; they could handle some more. That is until Spencer found something in one of his luggage pockets. He was repacking his go-bag after returning from a case when he opened a pocket that he did not often use, planning to put a fresh pack of gum in there.

He quickly took the note out and opened it, seeing it was in handwriting that he didn’t recognize. His heart skipped a beat as he began to read:

Spencer,

I’m sorry for leaving unannounced. I truly loved seeing you this weekend. It was wonderful to catch up after so long apart and to see that you are still the same sweet, loving guy. I hope you never change.

I left without saying goodbye because of my own issues, not because of anything you said or did. Please understand that. You mean so much to me, and I would hate to jeopardize our friendship over something silly like this.

If you’re ever in Vegas, you always have a place to stay.

Y/N

#spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #virgin spencer reid #criminal minds fluff #fluff #angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #wedding #one bed trope

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lokidbadguy · 16 days ago

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ME WHEN TOM HIDDLESTON PLAYED AS ROBERT LAING

#lokidbadguy #lokisaidkneel #loki #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston edit #tom hiddleston x reader #robert laing x you #robert laing x reader #robert laing #high rise #dilfism #dilf edit #dilffactory #dilf lover #twhiddleston

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holdmytesseract · 2 years ago

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Hello there sweet!

Congratulations for you big MILESTONE🎊🎊💝✨

How about

Robert Laing- And it's hard to keep my cool when other b!tches tryna get with my dude (Streets by Doja Cat)

Thank you soo much!! I cant wait what you come up with❤

a/n: It's here! The first drabble for my Lyric-Drabble-Mania! ☺️ Thanks @simping-for-marvel for the request and your kind words! ❤ I loved it! I hope you like what my brain came up with! ☺️

Warnings: (unhealthy) jealousy, swear words, mentions of sex, no smut, but it's a bit steamy

Word Count: 800

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002 @lulubelle814 @vbecker10 @fictive-sl0th @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbs @kimanne723 @simping-for-marvel and a few peeps who might be interested in this... 👀 @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @peaches1958

Lyric-Drabble-Mania Masterlist

Based on this song:

Jealousy

You sighed annoyingly, as you looked around the room, taking another sip of the cheap wine in the glass you were holding in your hand. The room was way too big. The music way too loud. And there were way too many people. It smelled of alcohol, cigarettes and cheap perfume - the perfect mix for a classic High Rise worker's class party. Usually, you loved to go on those parties... Get wine drunk after a few hours, dance and party all night. Not today, though. Not since the last few parties. Not since you managed to fall in love with your neighbour and fuck buddy Robert Laing - the epitome of a British specimen. Tall and charming, with blonde-brown hair, stunning baby blue eyes and a physique to die for. Above all that, he was a wealthy doctor, wearing pristine, rich suits and expensive watches. Mix this all together and you got the most handsome, fuckable man around. That's what he was. Ask the women around and they will tell you exactly that. Quite a bit objectifying, right?

Not gonna lie, you weren't any different in the beginning. All you wanted from the sexy, just divorced doctor was to pin you against a nearby wall and have his way with you - and that's exactly what happened. More than once. Of course, he had other women beside you. Charlotte Melville, for example. The single mother, who lived with her son Toby in the apartment above him. You didn't have a problem with that - until feelings started to get involved. At some point it wasn't just sex anymore. It was love and both, you and Robert felt it. So, he stopped having adventures. You became the only woman for him. That didn't explain why you started to hate those parties, though. It wasn't like that Robert dragged you along against your will, oh no... You went on your free will. Why? To keep an eye on all those greedy, dressed to the hilt bitches, who had their eyes all over Robert and wanted to have their hands all over him as well. A few of them just couldn't accept that he was taken now. They ignored it - you and tried to get in his pants anyway. Robert didn't let them, of course. You trusted him, but nevertheless... The jealousy took over you way too often. That's why you started to hate those parties and felt so out of place, having to witness those pathetic disgusting tries of the women. Sure, you could stay at home and avoid it, but this wasn't better, was it? Yes, yes you were a very jealous person...

Robert was on the dancefloor, champagne glass in hands, living his best life. And then it happened... The things you were talking about... A woman in a very scarce, sparkling silver mini dress danced up on him, shamelessly grinding her ass against his crotch. You snorted out annoyed, feeling the anger course through your veins. Robert took a step back and avoided her second attempt, before tapping her on her shoulder, causing her to turn to face him. He said something to her. You couldn't tell what, of course. The music was way too loud and you were too far away. Out of earshot. The woman seemed to be disappointed at his words, tried obviously to argue with him, but Robert shook his head. Your boyfriend and the woman danced on - with some distance between them. After a few minutes, Robert emptied his glass, spoke to the woman again and made his way over to you then. The doctor wore a big smile, clearly enjoying this party, but when his eyes met yours and he saw how pissed you were, it vanished immediately. This had been the third woman this evening. "Darling, what got you looking so pissed?" He asked, was clearly a bit intoxicated. "Well, it's hard to keep my cool when other bitches tryna get with my dude." You snapped, causing realisation to dawn on him. "Shit, you saw it?" "'Course I saw it, Robert." He lowered his head. "I'm sorry, darling... You trust me, though? I'd never cheat on you." You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "Of course I trust you... I know that you'd never cheat on me, 'cause you know that I'd cut your dick off, if you were going to do it." Robert chuckled, placing both his hands on your hips. "Very right, my love." "You know, it's just... I hate that they can accept that you're mine." "I know... We just have to show them how happy we are together." "Yeah?" "Yeah," Robert agreed, smiling seductively, "And how should we do that, baby?" his hands wandering lower and lower. "Oh, well, I've got a few ideas..."

#robert laing x fem!reader #robert laing x reader #robert laing x you #robert laing x y/n #dr robert laing x reader #dr robert laing #high rise #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston character

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 11 months ago

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Last Updated: 2023-12-26

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Dr. Robert Laing stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

❆ Baby, It's Cold Outside by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •

❆ Carry You Home by ladyfluff• 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Christmas Gift, the by ladyfluff • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Christmas with the Laings by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

❆ Do They Know It's Christmas by just-the-hiddles • 18+ •

❆ Sneaky Christmas Kisses by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •

See Also: Navigation || Robert Laing Master Index

Authors: @just-the-hiddles || @ladyfluff ||

#Robert Laing x Reader #Robert Laing x Female Reader #Robert Laing x Y/N #Robert Laing x You #Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Female Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Y/N #Tom Hiddleston x You #High Rise Fanfiction #High Rise Fanfic #Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction #Tom Hiddleston Fanfic

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smolvenger · 2 years ago

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Do any of y'all want to be tagged in my first High-Rise Fic?

Okay, guys. I finished a second draft of a fluff and smut fic about fem! reader being a tenant at the High-Rise and losing her virginity to Doctor Sexy himself, Robert Laing. Would anyone be interested in being tagged! Like I said, there will be smut, so 18+ for this one-shot, please!

#high rise #tom hiddleston #smut #carrie writes #I'm so sorry for yall that came here for marvel and star wars and are in the midst of my Tom phase #I am sending you guys cake #robert laing #robert laing x reader #doctor robert laing #dr robert laing #dr robert laing x reader #dr robert laing my beloved #doctor sexy my beloved #robert laing x y/n #robert laing x you #robert laing imagine

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roosterforme · 4 months ago

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Covering the Classics Part 19 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob is away, Anna can feel his absence everywhere. But nothing beats a perfect reunion.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of smut, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Months later....

Sitting in the coffee shop alone after visiting so many times with Bob truly made Anna sad. She was so used to sipping her coffee while he drank his hot tea, and somehow the scent always clung to his hair for hours afterwards. She'd bury her nose against him when they got home, and he would laugh when she told him he always smelled good.

But now he was gone, and she couldn't do anything about it. She accidentally burned her mouth on her coffee, and after that it tasted disgusting. She got herself a croissant, but they were better when shared. Tears stung her eyes, and she had to take a deep breath and convince herself that it would be over soon. Then she focused her attention on her computer as she worked through some more of the changes she wanted to make to her manuscript.

After three more paragraphs, it was no use. It wasn't even ten o'clock in the morning yet, but she gave up and switched to the notes app on her phone where she had been adding ideas for Jessica's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Physics jokes about the laws of attraction? Designer lingerie shop in LA? Can you make a math equation that looks like a penis?

She would defer to Advanced Calculus for that last item. With a sigh, she was about to close her computer, buy another croissant for Suzanne, and then head out when she saw a new email notification.

"No way," she gasped as she tapped on it and stared at her computer screen.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Anna's heart started pounding erratically, and her fingertips felt numb. Anticipation and confusion mingled together as she opened the link. It was difficult to read as she tried to take a deep breath, but she wanted to consume Bob's words as quickly as possible.

I can see the dusky outline on the horizon,

But the California coastline isn't enough.

I need to be at home.

I need my bookshelf.

I need my books.

I need your books.

I need my Anna.

I need to see you in the next two minutes,

Because twelve weeks is way too long.

"The next two minutes?" Anna mumbled to herself as she read the last lines over again. "Two minutes?" She was out of her seat immediately, neck craning around the crowded coffee shop, looking in every direction. And that's when she saw him stroll inside in his khaki uniform and silver glasses with the most handsome smile on his face.

"Bob!" she cried out, nearly tripping over her chair as she left her stuff behind to get to him as quickly as she could. He was home. He was home early from his deployment. Communication had been a little spotty, and there was so much she wanted to tell him, but he was finally home.

"Anna," he murmured as she threw herself at him, knocking the wind out of her own lungs. His arms were wrapped around her as soon as her lips met his, and she didn't care if there was a whole shop of people watching them. He was finally home. Somehow he still tasted like tea, and he smelled so good, she buried her nose against his neck as he chuckled.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, kissing him just above his shirt collar.

"Jess told me," he replied easily.

She kissed her way up to his ear as he started to slowly walk her backwards to the small table where she'd been sitting. "Why didn't you call me? I could have picked you up. I missed you so much."

"I just wanted to surprise you," he whispered, claiming her lips again as they stood next to the table.

She looked up at his pretty eyes and said, "This is a wonderful surprise. And I have one of my own."

"What is it?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing the freckles along her cheek and chin as she grinned up at him.

"I'm divorced."

His eyes went wide, and a sound of pure excitement escaped him as he scooped her up into his arms. "You're divorced?"

Anna laughed as she told him, "Finalized ten days ago. Fuck Kevin."

"You drove my truck here? Let's go," Bob said, immediately carrying her toward the exit.

"Wait, I need my stuff!"

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly very flustered as he helped her shove her computer and phone into her bag.

"I was planning to get a croissant or something to take to Suzanne," she said as he practically dragged her outside and down the street to his truck.

"Well, I was planning on taking you back to the bookstore to pick out something we could read together tonight, but this is even more important."

Anna ended up with her back pressed against the side of the truck while he unlocked the door, and she pressed her lips to his Adam's apple while she tried to hold onto her bag. She wanted to taste him everywhere. "Going right home actually sounds like a pretty good idea."

"That's exactly where we're going," he promised, tossing her stuff onto the seat before helping her in as well. The six seconds when he was walking around the truck and she couldn't touch him were miserable, but soon enough, he was kissing her while he started the engine. Then she had her fingers wrapped up with his while he started to drive. "I love you, Anna." He kept his eyes on the road as he made his way through Coronado, and she felt warmer than she had in twelve weeks. "I love you, and I would never pressure you to do anything you didn't want to do."

She turned to look at his handsome profile. "I know you wouldn't. That's why I love you so much."

She watched as he swallowed hard before saying, "I know we talked about our future, but it was always kind of ambiguous while we waited for your divorce decree."

"It's not ambiguous anymore!" Anna cheered as they neared his house where she had been living for months. "I'm ready for the future. The future is here. The future is now."

She was all smiles as he parked the truck with an anxious look in his eyes. "You told me you wanted me forever," he whispered, and Anna couldn't figure out why he looked so nervous.

"Of course I want you forever," she told him once again. She'd made it as clear as she could that she was done running. Kevin and New Jersey and everything that could have broken her but didn't were all left in the past. She was moving on a little bit more every day with Bob and her best friends and her tenure track teaching position at San Diego State. She was unashamedly taking excellent care of herself, and she never stopped Bob when he told her she needed to take a break and that he'd handle something for her. She wasn't going anywhere ever again.

"I want you forever, too. And we can go slow, or we can go fast. Or you can tell me you don't want what I have to give you, and that's okay too."

"What?" she asked, her heart sinking in her chest as he parked and climbed out. She wanted everything Bob had to give, and she wanted to give him everything, too. They even talked about getting married someday after he initially got over his nerves enough to bring up the topic. She had assured him that he was exactly the only person she would do that with after her disastrous first marriage. Why would he think she didn't want what he had to give?

"Bob?" she asked as she climbed out as well and met him on the sidewalk. "Why do you look so concerned?" He didn't respond. He only led her up to the porch and unlocked the door. "Bob!" she complained when he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs, going two at a time until his breath was coming in shorter gasps. Instead of turning toward their bedroom like she expected, he went into the guest room and dropped her onto the futon.

She rarely came in here. It was almost funny that Bob planned on sleeping in this room when he insisted Anna come home with him after Kevin figured out where she lived. And now he was on his hands and knees, crawling under the futon as she asked, "What in the world are you doing?"

He hit his head and grunted in response, but a second later, he emerged with his hair all messed up and something in his hand. "I got you a ring."

"A ring?" she asked, realizing he was holding a small box. A jewelry box. She looked at him where he was kneeling in front of her, cheeks turning pink. "What kind of ring?" she whispered, hopeful yet needing to be sure.

Bob snapped the box open, and all Anna could see was a beautiful diamond. "An engagement ring. But only if you want it. I know you probably need more time. I don't even need an answer right now, I promise," he told her earnestly as she scooted a little closer to him. "You were still married two weeks ago, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway. You can wear it or not wear it. We can wait a while if you want. I just... wanted you to know it's all yours. I'm all yours."

She hadn't worn the rings from Kevin in over a year and a half. She pawned them with no remorse before she left for California. "It has been a very long time since I was really married, Bob." She took the box from his hand and looked at the ring. She couldn't stop smiling, and the tears in her eyes made the diamond look all blurry as she asked, "Do you really want to marry me? I'm a mess."

He grinned at her. "You're really not, Baby. You're smart and beautiful and funny and kind. You're a fighter. Of course I want to marry you."

Without another word, Anna took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. She'd known Bob long enough to be sure that his words were honest. She was willing to throw it all in on Sky Writing. "We can take our time," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "There's no need to rush. But I definitely want to wear this ring."

They made a long, luxurious stop in their bed where Anna almost lost her voice from the number of times she called out Bob's name, and then he made her lunch before the two of them made their way to the living room bookshelf.

"We didn't make it to the bookstore to pick out anything new to read," she mused, brushing all of the colorful spines with her fingers.

"Maybe we could read the first book you ever recommended for me. Together this time," he replied, his hands settling on her hips as his chin rested on her shoulder.

Anna smiled as she reached for A Room With a View, remembering so well the day she started to fall in love with Bob Floyd. The book still looked practically brand new even though he'd already read it, and she grinned as she said, "I can't wait to dog ear all your pages."

"I will gladly let you."

---------------------------

The End! Thank you for reading another adventure in the Sugarverse! I hope you learned that even when you're a mess and barely holding it together, you're still worthy of friendship and love. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #robert floyd fanfiction #bob floyd #robert floyd x oc #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

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pinkdaisies9285 · 6 months ago

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Shiny Rings and Forgotten Means

Bob x Reader

Summary: Waking up next to your handsome boss wasn't on your list of things to do on a Las Vegas business trip. Waking up with a shiny, new ring wasn't either.

Warnings: Fluff, Vegas Wedding trope, CEO!au, kinda of Implied Smut

Word Count: 983

Author's Note: Here's my story for @bobgasm 's Au Writing Challenge! I almost forgot to post it so, I hope you enjoy it!

Waking up next to your boss wasn’t on your bucket list, especially when you don’t remember the night before. Everything was very blurry and only spurts of memories came back. Trying to remember more, made your headache even worse. The pulse behind your eyes was making itself very present. Reaching the nightstand quietly, you see a little glimmer reflecting off your hand. Looking closer, you see a stunning ring nestled on your ring finger. Forgetting about trying to find your phone, you completely focus on the piece of metal encompassing your finger. How did you get there? Why is it there? More importantly, who did you marry? The groan behind you gave you a queue of who this mystery husband was. Turning around, all thoughts flew out of your mind. The man who married you was none other than Robert Floyd, your boss.

The man in question had rolled over to lay on his back which allowed the sunlight from the windows of the room to wake him up. Squinting his eyes open, his vision focused on you. His eyes widened along with yours. Both of you seemed stunned by the situation at hand.

“May I ask why you’re in my bed, Dove?” he asked with a raspy voice.

Dove, the nickname he gave after working for him for a year. It came from you one morning humming a random melody while getting work done. When he heard your little melody, he jokingly called you a morning dove. So it spurred the nickname Dove, which is what he only calls you now.

“That I do not know Mr. Floyd, but could you explain this?” you replied holding up your left hand to show the glittering ring. You wanted answers to why you had what looked like a wedding band on your hand.

Robert grabbed your hand looking down at the pretty diamond ring with surprise and confusion. What made you more anxious was when you spotted a ring sitting on his left ring finger. He seemed to realize that as well when he had cradled your left hand in both of his.

“Dove, did we do something last night?” he questioned slowly. Looking up at you, he realized that you were trying not to throw up. You looked nauseous and panicked. This was true for the most part.

While you had always had a small crush on the handsome young CEO, you knew the boundaries of a personal assistant. Don’t flirt with him and don’t try to date him. These two mental rules you had been set in place very early in your career with Robert. Yet, by the time you had been working for him, you were completely enamored. He was kind, willing to work with you, and gave you a nickname that made you flustered still to this day. Now if you were connecting the dots correctly, you were married to him? Married to the man who haunted your dreams with fleeting touches and soft words. Married to the man who has been your boss for almost six years.

“I have zero idea, Mr. Floyd. All I know is that we had secured the deal with Mr. Robinson and decided to celebrate. After that, I can’t remember anything else,” you replied. Quickly getting up, you decided to see if anything in the room would give you more hints.

Scanning the area, you see a piece of paper sitting at the desk. It was hidden under a quickly thrown notebook. You inch closer to it, hoping it would be the key to your and your boss’s answers. The document had an official-looking seal on the bottom right corner and in the middle had both your signatures. In a pretty cursive said Certificate of Marriage with the officiant’s signature underneath it. You truly had done it somehow, you married your boss without any memory of how you did it.

Robert had made his way over to where you had been standing frozen looking at the pretty piece of paper. Looking over at what you were staring at, he found the answer to all the questions running around his head. He was married to you. He married you, his gorgeous assistant. The one that haunts his dreams all the time. His assistant whom he told himself he would never fall for. He didn’t know if this was a divine stroke of luck or a sick cruel joke. How would things go now made him feel unsure.

Should he immediately call his lawyer to file divorce papers? Or does he continue to float in this hoax of a marriage? His heart is yearning for the latter but his mind wants to immediately make sure you’re comfortable with what’s happening first before his feelings. So, he decides to break the tension stewing in the air for ten minutes.

“What would you like to do, Dove?” he softly asked. He didn’t want to scare you away with the prospect that he liked this.

You turned and looked at him for the first time since waking up. What do you do? Tell him that you’re okay with how things have panned out? Tell him you would divorce him as soon as he said he didn’t want this because you wanted him to be happy? You felt sick to your stomach like you just got off a roller coaster after eating a whole funnel cake. God, what do you do? Your brain and heart were at war with this decision. Live in this fantasy or break your heart by doing the right thing.

“I don’t know, Bobby,” you mumbled. Widening your eyes, you realized what you called him, Bobby. Looking over at him, you saw that he was smirking.

“Well, I do Dove,” he replied.

“What’s that?” you asked tilting your head to the side.

“Start our Honeymoon,” Bobby said still smirking.

You definitely were in for a ride.

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

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justagirlwholikesadam · 1 year ago

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Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader A/n: Let me know if you enjoy this. Likes and comments are appreciated. Enjoy -L

Warning: SFW, Joffrey is Joffrey, ANGST ANGST ANGST

Word Count: 5.3K

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Chapter 2

Joffrey's hatred towards you started when he was a teen and grew tremendously as he became older. He remembered you being an amazing sister, reading him stories when he was a child. Walking with him around the garden and to the Red Keep but he yearned for the attention of his father. Robert’s attention was always captured by the fancy wine, his whores and you. He knew Robert’s love for you is boundless, there was simply no end to it. Robert never yelled at you or hit you even when you protected Joffrey after he killed the kitchen cat.

He disemboweled the poor feline when he found out it was pregnant. He wanted to see the kittens, he cried out as you held him so he didn’t receive a second hit from his father. You stopped defending Joffrey when he became more ill-mannered. His hatred towards you began when you yelled at him for being discourteous to your help.

“Mind your manners when it comes to those who work for me. My servants are not bitches and my guard is not a dog. Learn to respect, brother.” You scolded him then turned to console one of your servants.

It's been a month after the events of Robert accepting your refusal to wed your betroth in Dorne. Cersei hasn't spoken to you and so didn't Joffrey, he grew more annoyed by the fact that you didn't care at all. You went on talking with Robert, to your uncles and his younger siblings. Joffrey was looking out the balcony trying his best to take short breaths so he didn’t have to smell the shit coming from below where the commoners live. He was staring out because he heard the ruckus you were making this morning. You didn’t break fast with them, he hasn't seen you all morning. Of course, Robert was fine with it. He told Cersei you were busy with your activities.

“Feeding the poor is one of her activities now?” Cersei spoke with a mocking tone. She got angry when Robert straight up ignored her and continued on with his meal.

Joffrey rolled his eyes when he finally found you. You were walking with Sandor up and down the streets of King’s Landing. Sandor walked behind you as he led his horse. Joffrey’s blue eyes hardened when he saw a group forming in front of you. Your smile didn’t break when they got near you, Joffrey couldn’t believe you could be near them. They reeked of shit, he couldn’t even be around them for 5 minutes before he started to gag.

Your smile didn't falter, it grew bigger as you walked around the dark mare to open the bags draped over its body. The people's eyes widened when you came back with slices of bread and cheeses wrapped in a white cloth. Sandor remains silent as he looks over at you then at his surroundings.

Joffrey walks away from the balcony when you continue to walk around with Sandor. It was evening and Sandor can tell you were tired. You were walking slower, you were up at dawn wrapping bread and cheese with the servants of the kitchen. This wasn’t something new, he’s been walking around King’s Landing with you feeding the people for years. You were kind unlike your family, Sandor thinks as he passes the last house that stood at the bottom of the hill. He had told you it would have been better to ride in a carriage so you wouldn’t have to walk all over the place but you told him you didn’t mind it. You wanted to speak with the people and have a close interaction with them.

“Princess.” Sandor looks over at the last house to see an elderly woman walking out of the front door. She bowed her head when she got close to you.

“How are you today?” You asked, grabbing the last bundles in the bag.

“Better now that you are here.” Sandor watches as you give her a smile while handling her food.

Sandor bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling as he watches you communicate with her. You spoke to her like an equal. You’re the first to ever do it with the commoners. That’s why they called you the Realms Delight. It was one of the many reasons why Sandor fell in love with you. You never looked down at anyone, you treated everyone with kindness especially to the unfortunate.

When it tends to bite you in the ass because of it that’s why he’s there with you. Sandor has threatened people throughout the years since you started giving food out. People got ahead of themselves and took too many bundles. He was always there to make sure everyone got their share. He gives them a stare down when they begin to fight with others for more food.

He remembers the first time the children from the orphanage wouldn’t get near you since he was behind you.

“No need to fear. Sandor and Stranger are here to help me.” You tell the children but they don’t believe you until a man tries to cut the line. Sandor bares his teeth, sending him running away.

“You see. Sandor is here to help me to make sure everyone gets their share.” The children calms down as Sandor brings Stranger closer to you so you start passing out the bundles.

“Remember to eat up so you can grow tall and strong like Sandor.” He shakes his head as you tell the children before walking away.

Sandor was so busy remembering the past that he didn’t notice you were walking inside the older woman’s house. Sandor shouted your name and you waved at him to come inside. He leans down to get his big frame past the door frame. When he gets through he notices you were talking with a young girl. Sandor awkwardly stood by the front door as you talked with her. The young girl was the older woman’s daughter. They were all alone after the woman’s husband died from the recent war. He was unaware when you placed a comforting hand on the woman's knee. A war broke out not long ago, your father’s brother wanted to be King. Robert brushed it off but soon it became clear that his brother was serious when he received support from other houses. All you could do is pray for when the next war breaks out that your father would win it again.

Sandor heard the words working and tavern but didn’t pay attention to it. He was busy looking around to make sure no harm would come to you. As much as you like to believe the people in King’s Landing wouldn't hurt you. Sandor thought the opposite. His eyes almost pop out of his head when he sees you sitting on a chair, pulling your dress up to your knees so you can remove your black slippers.

“Seven Hells!” He shouts but you look over at him with a stern face that shuts him up.

“Princess! No! Please. We can not.” The mother tells you while the daughter is pushing the slippers back towards you.

“Nonsense! You can’t work with those shoes. They are falling apart.” You pointed at the old slippers near the bed by the daughter.

“Princess Y/n.” Sandor calls out walking towards you. You were getting out of hand now, passing food was one thing but giving up your belongings was something else completely.

“Sandor. Please.” You look up at him. How can he say no when you look at him with those puppy dog eyes.

Sandor’s nostrils flare but he looks away from you letting you continue on. He hears that you tell the girl to take it. If they were too big or small to have the cobbler fix it. He hears the coins clinking together as you grab a hold of your small pouch that was kept strapped on your waist.

He looks out the door when the mother and daughter start to cry by your kindness, giving them money to make sure the shoes would fit properly. He walks out when you mention to them that you should be returning back to the castle. Sandor had already pulled the bags off of Stranger and draped it over his shoulders.

“Get up here.” Sandor tells you when he saw you were about to walk barefoot up the hill. Sandor helps you up, settling you on top of Stranger. He wanted to snap at you but couldn't when he saw the smile you had on your face.

“Why?” Sandor asked you after a moment of silence.

He can’t comprehend why you were so kind to everyone. He knew you had the ability to manipulate, manipulate men, and the king but you never did use it for anything wicked. Years of him guarding you; you’ve never changed, you've always been kind since the very start but he just can’t wrap his head around the idea of it. Maybe because he was so used to being treated like shit by his brother and by others when he was younger that it was normal to him.

“Remember what you told me two weeks after guarding me?” You asked him, looking down at him as he walked side by side with Stranger.

“Aye.” Sandor answered you with a nod. He had snapped at you because you were being too nice with the guards. Your intentions with them were innocent and nothing more. You didn’t notice their beady eyes ranking up and down your figure.

“You were the first man to ever tell me how this world works. Mother told me a few things on how to get what I want but you showed me a whole other side of the world beyond the castle’s wall.” Sandor senses a sadness in your voice.

“There is so much pain and sorrow in this world. I want to ease their pain, even if it’s just a little bit.” You look towards the castle.

“I am grateful to have survived the fever when I was a babe. I was born into a wealthy family. I have a roof over my head and I will never go hungry. My relationship with my family may not be the best, but I have my father.” You told him as you felt Stranger’s soft fur against your toes.

“ And I have you.” You said looking down at him with a smile.

He will never get used to your kind words and it makes him dread even more when the day comes for you to get married to some Lord, leaving him all alone in King's Landing. He will miss it, miss everything. He will miss hanging out with you, guarding you and loving you. When he and you finally made it to the stables, he shook his head letting all those sad thoughts of you leaving, disappear.

The stable boys welcome you and you greet them with a smile, asking them about their family. Sandor huffs at you, he doesn't even know their names, he was impressed on how you remembered most of the people's names that work for your father. He keeps quiet as you speak with them.

The stable boys walked out as Sandor brought Stranger into his stall. The dark mare wasn’t fond of other people that weren't Sandor.. You grabbed a hold on Sandor's shoulders as he put you down to the ground.

“It’s evening.” You told him. The stable boys were already leaving for the day. He places you on top of his shoes so you won't touch the dirty stable floor. Stranger is eating the hay placed out for him in the corner as Sandor shuts the door, pushing you against it, lifting you up to meet his face.

“I do, enjoy evenings.” He tells you. Evenings were the best, the workers were retreating back home, others were already at the castle breaking fast to eat dinner. King Robert and Queen Cersei should already be drunk out of their minds. Both of you can be alone, he can be close to you now. Your face is flushed from being outside all day, he feels your legs wrapped around his waist, he hides his face between your neck and shoulder.

“Spend the night with me. We can bathe and eat.” Sandor grips his hold on you tighter as you kiss his mutilated ear.

“You can fuck me.” You whisper and he looks at you by your choice of words. His only brow rose up at you as you smirked at him.

You cupped his face with your hands, your thumb brushing over his beard as you looked at him. Passing food to the ladies in the whore house had you shocked when one of them noticed Sandor over your shoulder. They were very outspoken about Sandor. Wondering how big he is and how he would fuck. One girl was about to ask you about him when the other hushed her, telling her you, the princess wouldn't know such a matter when it came to Sandor’s sex life. You quickly walked away when they commented on his face.

You wonder why people thought Sandor was hideous, he really wasn't. The burns were large and took up almost half of his face but he was the most handsome man you have seen. If anyone got the chance to see him smile, they would know it’s one of the most beautiful things in the world. His eyes were a deep and rich brown color, his lips that seemed to only know foul words were pale pink and kissable. You can’t recall the amount of times you nibble on it for the fun of it.

“Is that a yes?” You asked him. Sandor nods softly as he leans down to kiss your cheek. You moved to catch his lips.

Joffrey was walking out of his mother’s room when he heard laughter. He walked to the railing trying to listen where it came from. He was leaning over it when saw Sandor walking with you draped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Joffrey frowns as he notices you were barefoot. He could believe that The Hound had cracked a smile and laughed when you slapped him on his behind. Joffrey broke out a sinister smile when he saw Sandor playfully biting your ass making you squeal.

This was something much more than a guard guarding the princess. Joffrey kept staring as he started to form a plan.

Sandor had dropped you at the end of the hall when he noticed your servants were waiting for you by the door of your bed chambers. You fixed your gown and walked towards the room. You asked them to bring the large brass tub you wanted to bathe today and to bring food so you can dine inside your chambers as you released Sandor from his duties. After convincing the eldest servant that you wanted to bathe alone, she bowed to you and left the room. You were in the tub relaxing when a couple of minutes later you heard the door open. You looked ahead to see Sandor walking inside, he’s not wearing his usual gear. Locking the door behind, you sat up straight in the tub moving to the side to make room for him. You grin as he walks towards you.

“Water is still hot. Come inside.” You tell him. Sandor doesn’t need to be told twice. He removes his white tunic shirt, dropping it to the ground. Watching him remove his clothes you bite your bottom lip, you can’t help but stare at his body, his cock as he gets inside the tub. The water overflows over the edge of the tub as he sits down across from you.

“Come here.” He tells you. You move towards him, turning around. His legs are spread, leaving you space to get in between and lean back against his chest. You can feel the coarse thick hair of his body on your back. Your hands trail up his thick thighs under the water.

“The girls were sweet to get these roses and lavender from the garden. They said it will help me ease my mind and body.” You told Sandor as you grabbed a rose petal floating near you and giving it to him over your shoulder.

Sandor takes it between his fingers, giving it an uninterested look. “Hopefully I won’t find one between my arse.”

You break out laughing as you throw another petal at him. “The best smelling arse in the seven kingdoms.”

He chuckles at you before tugging you closer to him making you giggle as he kisses your neck. His wandering hands are touching your hips and waist before settling down on your outer thighs.

A comfortable silence drifted over both of you, enjoying each other's company; this was something he liked. Being close to you, feeling you on him. Your mind wandered off as Sandor leaned forward to grab something from the side. You look down to see what he got. You smiled when you saw what he was holding. The bar of soap looks so minuscule in his hand, he dips it in the water and rubs it against your skin. He lather you up well and you let out a moan when you feel his hand working on a knot on your shoulder.

When he was finished you took the bar out of his hand, you slowly turned around, moving his legs straight so you could straddle him. His hands immediately went to your waist as you placed your hands on his shoulders. Sandor’s stares at you as you were washing him, rubbing the soap on his chest and shoulders. Gathering a rag hanging from the edge of the tub you use it on him. He relaxes as you wash him. He was so relaxed to the point that he had his head tilted back. You dropped the rag in the water and kissed his open neck. He whines as you nip his throat and shoulders. You thought this would be the perfect time to tell him something. Sandor wasn't the only one thinking about the future.

“I want to tell you something. It’s been plaguing my mind since the event with Joffrey and my father.” Sandor brings his head back forward to look at you with a worried expression.

“I know my time will come when my father expects me to marry.” You felt Sandor tense up under you. His face became blank as he looked at you.

“Why don’t we run away?” You ask him, moving his hair out of his face. You don’t know what Sandor is thinking.

“I’ll give you my jewelry to sell at flea bottom. We save enough money to go wherever you wanna go. Braavos?” Words kept spilling out of your mouth as he kept silent.

“Anywhere you want. We can buy land and have a farm. Stranger would be so happy with all the open fields.” You frowned when he didn't say anything.

“No more King’s Landing. No Joffrey, no more guarding, no more rules. No more Gregor.” You mentioned his brother’s name softly.

“You would give up your title? Run away with me?” He asks you quietly. You nodded at him as you got closer to him. Your chest was close to his face as you looked down at him seriously.

“I will.” Sandor shook his head.

“Y/n.” Sandor tried to find the right words to say. He looks around at your room. The gowns are hanging from your closet, the large bed of silk sheets and feather pillows. He can see your jewelry on the vanity.

“If we leave. I can’t give you all of this. The pretty and expensive dress. Jewels and dornish wine.” You look around your room following his gaze.

“You deserve all of it.” His words make you angry. “You know what I deserve?” You ask him.

“I deserve to be happy. You are what makes me happy. Being with you makes me happy and the idea of getting to spend the rest of my life with you brings me so much joy. No more hiding. I want to kiss you when I want. I want to make love to you whenever I want. I want you to fuck me whenever you want. I don’t care about the dresses, the wine and the jewels. Sandor, say yes. Say yes to me.”

He feels like he must have done something to please the gods and now they were rewarding him with you. He can’t believe that you were willing to give all of this up to be with him, a second born son.

“Say something.” You tell him with tears in your eyes. Sandor brings his hands to face, cupping his hands in your face. Droplets of water are running down his arms to your chest.

“We do it but I make you mine. Make you my wife.” You let out a smile.

“What do you say, princess?” He asked you.

“This would be the last time you call me that. Next time it will be Y/n Clegane.” Sandor smiles at you before pulling you in a kiss. He liked the sound of your new name. Leaving the tub when the water became cold, Sandor and you sat by the table eating dinner as he talked about how he could sell the jewelry you offered, a few jewels without people knowing it from you. He would have to go early in the morning and in secret.

You agreed with him. Talks about the future filled the night, both of you were tired from the walk. Slow kisses and gentle touches both of you gave each other. Sandor refused when you were going to have sex with him. He can see it in your face that you were tired. He kissed the top of your head and told you, “We will have all the time in the world to make love when we are free from King's landing.”

It was dawn when Sandor snuck out of your chambers and made his way to his own. He froze outside of his door when he noticed a light coming under the door. He didn't leave any candles on. He pushes the door and walks inside. He frowns at the sight of Joffrey and Ser Meryn Trant sitting around the table in the middle of his room.

“About time.” Joffrey said with a loud sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest. Sandor threw a glare at Meryn Trant who grabbed his sword that was on the table.

“We have been waiting for you all night.” Sandor shuts the door behind him and walks towards his bed.

“Went to the tavern and stayed the night at the whorehouse.” Sandor lied as he sat on his bed. His eyes went to his sword near his bed post.

“Without your armor or sword?” Joffrey asked with a smirk. “Very strange.”

“Everyone knows not to fuck with me. No need to carry all that shit.” Sandor answered him bluntly. Joffrey looks over at Ser Meryn Trant.

“I searched every whorehouse in King’s landing. You weren't there.” The knight answered.

“Where were you, Dog?” Joffrey asked. Sandor frowned at the nickname. It’s been so long that someone called him that. No one dared to disrespect him when he started to guard you. You demanded respect for him and your servants.

“My sister has such a loyal dog, Ser Meryn Trant.” Joffrey told the knight next him when Sandor did not respond.

“You're wasting my time already. We were waiting in your room all night. I know where you were, Dog.” Sandor stared hard at Joffrey.

Joffrey told him how he saw him and you walking away from the stables. A disgraceful sight, Joffrey called it. Sandor felt his heart dropped to his stomach when Joffrey mentioned how he saw him going to your chambers last night.

“What do you want?” Sandor asked, looking down at the ground. Joffrey stood up from his seat and walked towards him.

“Look at me, Dog.” Sandor’s jaw clenched but he obeyed Joffrey.

Joffrey gave him a malicious smile. “It all makes sense now. Why wouldn't she get married.”

“She is in love with the dog. How ridiculous! What a joke this is!" Joffrey cracked a laugh and looked over at Ser Meryn Trant who joined him with his own laughter. Sandor felt his mouth go dry as they laughed at him, laughed at the idea that you love him.

His laughter dies as he looks back at Sandor. “What would the king say when he hears about this? Mother would die from this news. Y/n will be stripped from her title. She will be disowned and severely punished for being with a lowborn.” Sandor felt ill to his stomach.

“Perhaps she threatened you to sleep with her. Or you raped her and she had no other choice.” Sandor stood up at his words. He never in his life had made you do something that you weren't comfortable with and you were the same to him.

“She will be punished.” Joffrey showed no fear when Sandor stood in front of him.

“Like I said. What do you want?” Sandor asked him as Ser Meryn Trant stood up from his seat. Ready to swing his sword incase Sandor harms Joffrey.

“I want her to suffer. I want her dog to go to her room and tell her you don't want her anymore. You will be my new guard. You will tell her that you don't love her and everything between you was all a lie. Tell her that you used her.” Sandor shook his head at him, he wouldn't. He couldn't do that to you. He would runaway with you today and fuck the rest. He will work to provide for you, he will do anything but he wouldn't say he doesn't love you.

“If you don't obey. I will tell my father everything. He will disown her and you will never see her again because you will be punished. You know how? You’ll be executed for raping my sister. I swear on everything, Dog. If you don't agree with this. I’ll have her head chopped off with yours.” Sandor looks away. He blinks the unshed tears away, he refuses to cry in front of Joffrey.

“I’ll give you an hour. Break her heart and report back to me.” Joffrey said he was about to leave when he looked over at Ser Meryn Trant.

“I always wanted a dog. Now I got the largest and the most dangerous of them all.” Joffrey laughed as he walked out of the room with Ser Meryn Trant behind.

Sandor looks at the door, he’s breathing heavily and tears are rolling down his face. He knew it was too good to be true. Sandor let out a growl and flipped the table over and leaned against the wall.

He doesn’t think he has the heart to break things off with you. He was strong to kill and fight but to tell you that he doesn’t love you. He couldn’t but he has too for your sake. He has to do it to keep you safe. You will hate him forever but you will be safe.

Sandor dresses for the day and walks slowly to your chambers. He sees your servants coming out of your room, it meant you were dressed as well and ready for the day.

He knocked on the door and heard your voice saying to come inside. He walks inside and shuts the door behind him. His heart is beating out of his chest as he watches you wrapping something by the vanity.

“Good Morrow, Sandor.” You tell him as you look ahead at the mirror to see him by the door.

He doesn’t say anything. You carefully wrapped the cloth and walked towards him. “I have it. These should be sold off first. I had them for a while so no one will suspect a thing.”

You tell him, holding out the jewelry for him to take. Sandor is still silent as he looks at you. You frowned when Sandor didn’t move. You grabbed his hand trying to open it so you could give him the jewelry. He doesn’t look well and it worries you.

“What’s wrong, my love?” You whispered. Sandor rips his hand from your gasp and walks back to the door.

He had his back turn to you. He couldn’t look at your face. He didn’t want to see how your face looked when he ripped his hand from your gasp. You must have looked so hurt by his action.

“This is wrong.” Sandor said as his shoulders rose up and down with each breath he took.

Before you can respond he cuts you off. “Between me and you is wrong. It must end. It’s over. I won’t be your guard anymore.”

Sandor doesn’t wait for a response. He’s about to open the door when you push him against the door and flip him over with all your might. His back hits the door and refuses to look at your face. He doesn't want to look at you, he knows if he does he’ll break down.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?” You asked him.

“Sandor!” You shouted his name, the jewelry in your hands had fallen to the ground as you slapped his chest trying to catch his attention. He was ignoring you. He told you it was over.

“Tell me what’s wrong. I can help you.” You told him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You cried out as you slapped the chest armor again. He has to do it. He has to break your heart. He doesn’t want you to get hurt, punished, or disowned for loving him.

“It’s over between us.” Sandor said, finally looking down at you. You shook your head.

“What do you mean?” You asked him, Sandor hears your voice crack.

“Sandor..”

He wants to cry but the look on your face. You looked so hurt, eyes tearful, brows knitted together in confusion. He needs to touch you one last time, hold you. He wants to remember how warm and soft you feel under his touch. His fingers are twitching to touch your face.

“What did I do? I’m sor- for whatever I did I’m so sorry.” He wants to yell at you for being so stupid. How is this your fault? How can you believe that you were the one in fault?

“Sandor, I love you. If this is about last night of me deserving all of this, I’ve told you. I told you all I want is you. I deserve to be happy and you are the only reason that makes me happy.”

‘You’re the only reason he’s happy too’, he says to himself. The words that he’s about to say kills him on the inside, it feels like bile coming up his throat.

“I changed my mind. I don’t love you. Not anymore.” You took a step back from Sandor. You place a hand on your stomach as you cry. You shook your head at him.

“I don’t believe you. You love me and I love you.” Sandor felt his tears at bay, he had to leave the room at once. You flinched at his sudden moment when he walked away from the door and towered over you giving you a scowl.

“I don’t love you anymore. Princess.” The tone of his voice drops down in a hiss.

“I never did. I just used you.” Sandor quickly turns to open the door, he does it so hard it almost comes out of the hinges. He hears you crying as he walks out of the room.

Joffrey was in his room when he heard a knock. Ser Meryn Trant opens the door when Joffrey welcomes in whoever it was. Joffrey feels like the first in his life, he won. He won on making you feel unloved just as he felt, he wished he could hear your cries right now. What he would give to see your face at this moment but it didn’t matter because his pet was waiting outside for him.

“Dog. Come in.” Joffrey said with an ominous smile.

<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->

Taglist: @federalclassroom, @snixx2088

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