#team school cardigans
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vermiiint · 2 months ago
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Day 4?? It's almost 11 pm xd. Can't deny I rushed this a bit ;;;
Cardigan Long representation :3
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The template I'm using is made by @//esmmazing , go support them :)
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kpop-bbg · 1 month ago
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1-aussiedollar · 9 months ago
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Part 2!
Aaand I’m now taking requests for character eyes! I’m gonna do Deep Cut in batch 3 but still send me suggestion!
Edit: YES I KNOW DEDF1SH HAS A 1 NOT AN I SHUT UP I FORGOT
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autoboros · 2 years ago
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Tried making an almanac for Auto, an idea I've been sitting on for . Probably weeks now
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I plan on doing the rest of his team in a page too [since I have teammates designed for him] so. Soon hopefully
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nichsia · 2 years ago
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I bet you anything Asymmetry (and the rest of their team) has a collection of cute cardigans. Lovecore aesthetic will always reign supreme. To me.
[alternate version with their original ink color under the cut]
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tgirlswagcompetition · 2 years ago
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forge-octarian-jacket · 9 months ago
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anyway I love making up headcanons and personality’s for characters who have none.
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midnapanda · 2 years ago
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I love the concept of friend groups that do anything and everything together. Like those idealized close-knit cartoon groups of characters, where they have matching outfits and they share their food, and have slumber parties every weekend.
e.g: Team School Cardigan is the epitome of this. To me. They have an assortment of cute cardigans they borrow from each other and wear. They all have tamagotchis. They make sweets and trade recipes with one another. They could simply walk around outside together and still have a good time. They make their own fun and they love being friends with each other.
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rocketonthemoon · 2 years ago
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Alright does anyone have a good rec for finding cardigans for broad shoulders that aren’t the men’s fashion uniform colors of boring blue/cream/grey? I want to be COZY but not BORING ya feel?
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moonstruckme · 1 month ago
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I don’t know if you currently accept requests but if you do could you write something with Spence where reader isn’t really a touchy kind of person and the team goes out for drinks, r gets drunk and is super touchy with Spencer and he is so flustered but secretly loves it?
If not don’t worry about it<3
Thank you for requesting angel <3
cw: alcohol
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 759 words
“Dave,” Prentiss says firmly, “I’ve got it.” 
“No, you got it last time.” Rossi’s trying to put his credit card down on the tab the waiter left, but Prentiss blocks him with a hand. “Let me take this one.” 
“I don’t care which of them gets it,” you say near Spencer’s ear. “Just glad it’s not me.” He laughs. 
Luckily, you’re not loud enough for anyone to hear but him. You’ve become surprisingly mumbly after a few drinks, imparting your observations and witticisms to Spencer alone, your cheek on his shoulder. Surprisingly tactile, too. 
“What are you doing?” he asks as you trace the creases spanning the insides of his fingers. He doesn’t think you’re doing anything really, drunk enough to be susceptible to whims and mindless fiddling, but Spencer likes to hear you talk. 
You make a muted humming sound. “Reading your finger lines.”
“You mean my palm lines?” 
“No, I mean your finger ones. I’m inventing a new science.” 
Spencer smiles. The tip of your nose is touching the knit of his cardigan, he wonders if it itches. You might not notice, though, with the way you’re so concentrated on his hand. Your lashes shadow your eyes like heavy clouds. 
“You know,” says Spencer, “there’s been some disagreement among biologists about palm lines. They’re called palmar flexion creases, and while it’s largely agreed upon that they form before birth to allow freedom of movement without stretching the skin on our hands, some also think that certain lines can indicate certain medical conditions.” 
“Huh.” You trace your finger down to his palm. “So, sort of like telling the future.” 
“Well, modern medical practitioners can usually identify those conditions early after birth anyway—but sure, if you want to think about it that way.” 
“That’s okay, I’m not that invested in palm line science anyway.” 
You say it placidly, even though you’re not moving away, like nothing is really all that important so long as you’re touching him. The dim, orange bulbs of the lamps in the bar cast shadows under your lashes and in the dip of your cupid’s bow.
Your finger keeps moving absently, past Spencer’s wrist until you’re nudging up his shirtsleeve. “You have really nice forearms,” you murmur. 
Spencer’s skin prickles with a blush. He takes your hand away in an effort to deter you, but you only go along with the deviation, linking your fingers through his. He glances at Garcia, relieved when she’s not looking. Just last week, she’d asked Spencer and Morgan if you secretly didn’t like her. 
I tried to give her a hug, she’d said, pouting confusedly, and she went as stiff as a board. It was the worst rejection I’ve had since high school.
Morgan had laughed. Not everyone is as warm and fuzzy as you are, babygirl. Don’t take it personal. She’s just not the touchy type.
You feel for Spencer’s other hand under the table, seeking to add it to your collection. He gives it over to avoid a fuss. 
On the other end of the table, Rossi seems to have successfully paid the bill. 
“Okay.” He gets up with a sigh, grabbing his coat. “I will see you kids tomorrow.” 
“Bright and early,” JJ agrees with joking weariness. 
As your team starts to get up, say goodbye, and (in Garcia’s case) hurriedly slurp up the remainders of their drinks, Spencer gives your fingers a tentative squeeze. 
“Time to go,” he tells you. 
You sigh heavily, warm breath permeating his cardigan. “Okay. I guess.” 
Spencer’s not entirely sure where your reluctance is coming from—if he were you, he’d be eager for his bed—but you stand without complaint, immediately looping your arm through Spencer’s and leaning comfortably against his side. 
Morgan raises his eyebrows. “Need some help there, pretty boy?” 
“That’s okay.” It’s out before Spencer can think it through, and heat comes to his face when Morgan’s lips lift with a knowing grin. 
Thankfully, Hotch spares him any elaboration. “I can take her home.” He’s watching you severely, the way a strict parent looks at their teenager before reluctantly getting them ibuprofen and a glass of water for the next morning. “She can’t drive.” 
“That’s okay,” Spencer says again. “I can drive her.” 
Hotch’s face is impassive, but Spencer can tell he’s not overly surprised. “Are you sure? I live closer than you do.” 
“I’m sure.” Again, his face heats at what he knows his answer is revealing. But Spencer looks down at you, contented and half asleep against his side, and it’s worth it. “I don’t mind.”
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hydrobunny · 4 months ago
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i knew you'd come back to me
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tags: getting back together, vague allusions to angst, timeskip reunion, ambiguous? ending 880 words
a/n: hope u enjoy anon. based on cardigan
it’s been six years since you last saw rin itoshi.
six years since the day he turned his back on you without looking back, leaving behind the remains of your fragile relationship.
but now that you’ve grown - and gotten through life just fine on your own- you’re not sure what that long-gone relationship really had been. if it ever affected him the way it affected you.
and yet, at a small shitty parisian bar several thousand miles aways from home, you see rin itoshi again, and everything changes.
for you could recognize the shape and angles of his face from oceans away, and he knows the same. shocked recognition flares through rin’s eyes (still beautiful, still so intense).
the two of you are young again, and it used to be-
sneaking out of school early so he could practice drills while you did homework on the bleachers-
his hands interlaced with yours, form trembling as the both of you agreed that an era in the itoshi household had ended forever-
your hand on his wrist, his feet dragging in the wet sand while he half heartedly argued against entering the cold waters-
him opening your christmas gift, a luxury cologne that had taken you two months to save up for-
you and him in your living room, horror movie blaring on the screen while he pretended to be annoyed at your screaming-
him packing a duffel bag with his best worn football cleats and a mysterious invitation while you mulled over the best way to say a temporary goodbye-
you cheering his name in a stadium crowded with his brother’s legacy, unaware as something in his heart broke and was reforged anew-
the two of you were sixteen, and rin itoshi was telling you to not wait for him again.
with an ice cold voice, he had left the dregs of your relationship behind.
but six years is a long time to hold a grudge- so you don’t. you were both young, with nothing but the cruelty and arrogance that came with being young.
you aren't sixteen years old anymore.
so you don’t blame rin itoshi for breaking your heart. instead, you meet his eyes head-on and smile, hoping he can taste your forgiveness.
you think he might. for rin almost flinches away, his eyes still flashing over you like he can’t believe you’re really there.
“hey, rin.” and you let him back in.
“y/n,” he says slowly. “you’re here. in paris.”
the barkeeper slides you a drink wordlessly. you tilt your head. a small part of you marvels inwardly at how tall he is. “so are you. small world, isn't it?”
rin blinks, gaze flickering once to the small glass, and you’ve known the confusion in his voice since years ago. “i live here.”
you don’t know that one. “oh,” you manage, too awkwardly. the bass of the music almost drowns out your words. “paris? i wouldn't have taken you for the type.”
his confusion turns into straight disbelief, face furrowing. “what? no, not like-” he clears his throat. “for the football team. pxg? i’m the starting striker.”
“that does seem more fitting,” you pick up your glass. “so you did it? blue lock worked out?”
rin doesn’t respond immediately, searching your face carefully. in the tense pause, you throw back at least half of your cup. “you really don’t know?”
“well, it wasn't like i wanted to subscribe to that show,” his face stiffens at your words. “if im being honest, the only thing i even know about japanese football now is that we think isagi’s the great hope of us all.”
rin’s face shifts immediately to a display of impressive annoyance. “don't believe that crap.”
you bite down on your laughter. “i don't feel that strongly about it.”
your phone buzzes in your pocket. his eyes trace your movements as you pull it out, skimming the notification.
“i should go.”
“already?” he blurts out, grimacing immediately after.
you raise an eyebrow. “i've been here. you just haven't seen me.”
“shitty place to spend your time.”
your heart twangs with the familiarity of his casual brashness. “sure. i’m glad to know you’re doing well, rin. see you in another six years?”
he doesn't respond. with a sigh, you leave .
there’s no point in looking back. you push past sweaty bodies, an emotion you can't quite place roaring in your ears.
it was over. it had been over. you had already long accepted it to be over, so why did it still burn to turn away?
a hand wraps around your wrist, firm.
you whirl around-
rin’s eyes meet yours with a breath-stopping intensity, desperately searching for something. “i’m sorry.”
the music is too loud. you blink rapidly. “what?”
he leans in closer to you, and you realize he still wears the same cologne. “you were too good for me. and i’m sorry for what i did to you.”
you step backward, heart thudding with the rhythm of a song years paused. “i don't- rin?”
his hand is still on your wrist. “it’s always been you, y/n, and i don't know why it took so long to realize. but i was a fucking idiot.”
you swallow.
rin itoshi meets your gaze. “one more try.”
the lights flash a dozen different colors, and you hear yourself answer.
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4unnyr0se · 7 months ago
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❥ tsukishima plays the waiting game
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warnings: fem! reader, pre and post timeskip! tsukishima, tsuki gets slapped, reader is a sweetie, yamaguchi and hinata mentioned, tbh its mostly fluff
MDNI | No 18+ content here, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog
word count -> 785
part two
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Kei Tsukishima wasn’t the best at showing affection at all. He only liked and respected Yamaguchi, but apart from that, there wasn’t really anyone he thought merited his honest and most sincere loyalty and trust. Sure, he respected Daichi when he was still in high school, but Daichi was his captain. It was different.
Then, you moved to Miyagi and enrolled in Karasuno in mid-April. You were placed in the same class as Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. Apparently, you had scored in the top 1% in your old high school, much to Tsukishima’s chagrin. He assumed you would be just another one of those academic bitches (like himself) who only cared about what directly affected them. 
That was the first time Tsukishima was wrong. 
You were sickeningly sweet, so much so that many people thought it was just an act. Tsukishima first thought this, too, that a wolf was hiding under that fluffy sheep wool. But no, there wasn’t. You were genuinely nice without ulterior motives, always volunteering to tutor students after class. You even helped Yamaguchi with his English vocabulary and grammar. He didn’t even have to ask! That’s how sweet you were, and Tsukishima hated that. Well, only at first. 
He knew he liked you the second you snapped at him, calling him an asshole in front of the entire Karasuno team. He was practicing serves and missed completely, the volleyball slamming into your torso as you walked by the practice gym. Instead of apologizing, he blamed you for being in the way. 
Instead of you apologizing for having dared to be in the way of a rouge volleyball, he was met with a cold smack in the face. Vulgar words left your mouth, your face heating up in anger as you called him out for being a stuck-up prick who didn’t care about anyone but himself (and maybe Yamaguchi.) The Karasuno team stood in shock as you screamed at him, your usual friendly and kind demeanor long forgotten. Hinata thought that Tsukishima was absolutely going to murder you, but instead, the lanky blonde just stood there with the tiniest blush on his cheeks. You called him out; you slapped him. The sweetest girl in Karasuno slapped him and humbled him in front of his teammates. You weren’t just an innocent little lamb, you bit. And Tsukishima liked that. 
Tsukishima never acted on his urges in high school; he was too busy with class and volleyball and Hinata’s bullshit to worry about romantic relationships. But he caught himself sneaking glances at you throughout high school, no matter where he was. You two were always in the same class, weirdly enough. Graduation eventually came, and lo and behold, the two of you went to Sendai. He was on a semi-volleyball scholarship, and you had a full academic ride because you did. And to his horror, or perhaps delight, you both had the same entry-level statistics class.
He first noticed that you had a sense of personal style that he approved of. Tsukishima had only ever seen you in the Karasuno girl’s school uniform before, so it was a pleasant surprise to see you wearing a spaghetti strap tank top with a wool cardigan and loose jeans. It was…cute.
Tsukishima was taken aback when you walked up to him after class, bowing your head slightly to apologize for screaming at him when you were in high school. He smirked and accepted the apology, pushing your head down further. 
“You also slapped me and called me an asshole, remember?”
You became flustered and started apologizing even more, tilting your head with sparkling eyes.
“I know, I’m really sorry. I don’t want any bad blood. How can I make this up to you?”
“Go on a date with me.” It came out of his lips so fast that Tsukishima didn’t have time to cover it up with a cough. How could he let that slip from his lips, he always thought before speaking. He thought before doing anything! He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away in embarrassment. “Go on…just go on a date with me, please. I’ve liked you since high school, moron.”
You smiled and hugged him, squeezing his torso with all your might. Of course, Tsukishima thought this was adorable, he was a foot taller than you. “Of course, I’ll go on a date with you! Where?” You asked as you looked up, the prettiest smile plastered across your shining face. Fuck, Tsukishima was totally screwed. He’d give you the world right then and there if he wasn’t so proud. 
“My dorm? Yamaguchi is out with friends for the weekend.”
“Yamaguchi has friends other than you? Damn, he really grew up.”
“Indeed,”
Tsukishima’s side of the dorm was immaculate. Spotless, organized, and decorated with dinosaur posters. It was cute and nerdy, making you smile. Maybe deep down inside, he wasn’t such a jerk.
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defectiveporcelaindoll · 5 months ago
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Chapter III: So High School
“Bittersweet sixteen suddenly”
series masterlist previous chapter
pairing: post-prison/ cm: evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)
series synopsis: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.
cw: age gap (Spencer is 42, reader is 24 in chapter 1), Use of y/n's (I'm sorry, I know l'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, romance romancing, kisses and touches but no smut (yet…maybe) ; Reader is feisty and flirty; Spencer is anxious and has an aggressive outburst; female reader she/her pronouns, and mentions of typical CM violence.
wc: 2.7k (they just keep getting longer and longer)
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“Okay. Classes are canceled, if anyone asks, you’re sick. I called Emily, let her know we won't be working tonight. Uh, what else- oh! I got us a reservation at the Glass Garden. I think that might be fun, and I got us a table at a restaurant that has really great reviews,” he called from his place on the sofa. Hearing the bathroom door open, he turned, his breath catching in his lungs. In the backlight of the bathroom, Spencer Reid almost believed he’d seen an angel standing in his living room in a sundress.
“Oh- um, you look really pretty- not that you aren’t always pretty, obviously you must know that you’re beautiful but I just—in comparison to when you were crying… you’re…” Any attempt to save himself from the awkward hole he’d dug himself into died on his tongue as Y/N giggled. Her laugh was like a ray of sunlight, melting parts of Spencer’s heart he’d long forgotten.
“Okay, so I’m sick,” she gives him her best fake little kid cough, causing him to roll his eyes. “We’re off duty and you made us plans…oh, and I guess I clean up pretty good for a girl who just had a meltdown against our front door.”
“Very well… for a girl who had a meltdown against our front door,” Spencer nods, his cheeks beginning to ache from the smile that’s been plastered on his lips since she entered the room.
Once they were off campus, the couple let out an exhale neither were aware they'd been holding, away from prying eyes allowed to simply exist as individuals for the first time in weeks.
“You said we’re going to a glass garden?” Y/N asks, fiddling with the sleeve of the cardigan Spencer insisted she bring as they make their way down the highway.
“Yes! The Chihuly Garden,” she smiled, loving the way his features lit up with such excitement. “It’s supposed to be this insanely beautiful collection of really intricate and colorful glass sculptures. I’ve always wanted to see it but we never have time when we’re in the city for a case. Actually, I saw one of the artist's pieces in London—god, it had to be almost twenty-five… years ago.”
Spencer’s heart dropped to his stomach, the excitement in his voice dying with the last words, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His age was showing, and this feeling was something he’d never experienced before. For nearly twenty years, Spencer had been the youngest person on the team. Even at forty-two years old, he still was the baby until Y/N joined. Was this how everyone else felt, talking to him about ‘the good ole days’ for all those years?
Y/N glanced over at him, a soft sympathetic smile taking her lips. In the three weeks she’d spent in such close proximity to Spencer, she’d picked up on a few of his tells. Right now, she could see the wheels turning in his mind, convincing him he’d ruined things and debating addressing the difference in their ages.
“Spence—”
He didn't respond, his mind still running rampant until he felt the pressure of a hand on his thigh, pulling him back to reality and causing him to inhale sharply, his eyes frantically shifting between the hand, the road, and the woman in his passenger seat.
“There we go…” Y/N mumbled, giving his thigh a little squeeze before pulling her hand away and back into her lap. “You know it doesn’t bother me, right? You don’t need to freak yourself out because you’ve got a couple of years on me, Spencer,” she said with a little more confidence than Spencer was used to hearing from her.
“And besides, I’ve always had a taste for older men,” she shrugged, leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his now flushing cheeks. Spencer couldn't even bear to look at her, his heart racing as he tried to remain focused on the road. Was Y/N actually flirting with him or was she teasing him? Surely it had to be a joke.
The remainder of the drive was uneventfully quiet, with the couple only really speaking to point out the landmarks they’d passed until they pulled into the tiny parking lot beside the Space Needle. As soon as he’d killed the engine, Spencer was out of the car, running around the back to grab Y/N’s door. She smirked, eyeing the older man up and down as he playfully caught his breath from the minimal jog.
“Shall we, M’lady,” he mumbled awkwardly, offering her a hand as she slipped out of the car.
“get my car door isn’t that sweet. then pull me to the back seat”
“Who said chivalry was dead… Keep it up, we won't be making it out of this parking lot,” her brow wiggled rather suggestively as she watched Spencer gulp, his palm beginning to sweat against hers. “Come on, lover boy. I need that big brain to tell me all about the pretty glass.”
Their afternoon was spent hand in hand or arm in arm, the two only separating long enough for one of them to take a photo of the other. Spencer claimed he ‘needed a good photo for his office’. Y/N thought it was cheesy, but she’d giggle and pose wherever he directed her, and he’d try to do the same for her; though, his poses were far more stiff and awkward, but somehow, that made them all the more endearing.
They spent hours observing the installations, with Spencer rattling on about the different techniques used for each detail and Y/N occasionally offering her own commentary about how the art made her feel. To any passersby, they looked like a happy couple that had known each other for years, not two FBI agents playing make-believe for a while.
The restaurant Spencer had picked for dinner was across the park from the gardens, so there was no sense in moving the car. The once bright late summer sun had fallen victim to the Seattle clouds that were beginning to roll in as the couple meandered through the park. Spencer’s eyes trailed the younger woman’s face; he could tell she was contemplating something.
“What is it?”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Y/N glanced up at him, her hand falling from his grasp as she twisted her fingers anxiously, waiting for Spencer’s nod of approval. When it came, she paused, taking a deep breath.
“Doctor Spencer Reid, do you know that you completely changed my life?”
Spencer froze a few paces in front of her, brows knit together as he tried to decipher whether or not this was part of her act as the loving wife or if he actually, unbeknownst to him, had an effect on this young woman’s life.
“You taught a seminar in Nevada five years ago, breaking down the relationships between psychology and philosophy in human behavior.” Y/N’s gaze dropped, the summer breeze exposing the blush creeping up her ears. “I wasn’t even supposed to be in the class; I was an English major, but my roommate dragged me along… and maybe it was the way you taught, your excitement I guess? Or the way that it felt like you actually cared. I could’ve listened to you talk for hours.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “After that seminar, I marched myself down to the counseling office and became a psych major… added a year and a half to my college experience, but given that I’m about to walk into a very expensive restaurant, married to the professor who changed my life? I think it just might’ve been worth it.” She let out a breathy chuckle, her eyes searching Spencer’s for any indication of discomfort before dropping her gaze back to her hands, mindlessly fiddling with her wedding band. “Sorry, I just really needed to get that off my chest.”
“tell bout the first time you saw me”
For a moment, Spencer sat awestruck. He rarely found himself at a loss for words, but the newfound warmth in his chest made it nearly impossible to speak. So instead, he took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he nodded, guiding her down the path to the restaurant in silence until they reached the door. He hesitated just outside, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
“Thank you… just… thank you.”
Dinner went smoothly, with the only minor hiccup being Spencer’s tangent about the bread basket and his qualms with group food. But other than that, the two simply enjoyed each other’s company, the sound of rain echoing against the roof as they ate.
As the couple exited the restaurant, they were met with the heavy downpour of a summer night storm. Y/N sighed, pulling her cardigan around her a little tighter, her lips pursed as she looked up at Spencer, his hands stuffed anxiously in his pockets. There was no way they were getting to the car dry, he knew that as a fact. So, with a little sigh and a nod to Y/N, he stepped out from the covered awning, arms outstretched as he let the rain soak him.
“Oh, so you’re crazy!” Y/N called, her voice hardly audible over the downpour, making no attempt to move. After a minute, Spencer jogged back to her, his arms wrapping around her middle as he lifted her, kicking and laughing, carting her out into the rain. She wiggled free of him, a smile plastered on her face as her hair began to drip.
 She spun around, embracing the fact she was now thoroughly soaked, a girlish giggle passing her lips as she tucked wet hair behind her ears “Ya now, even soaking wet, this may just may be the most successful date I’ve ever been on.”
Spencer quirked a brow, his head falling to the side like a puppy’s. “Your dating pool is really that bad?” he mused, remembering what it was like to be in his twenties awkwardly trying to make meaningful connections with people
“I don’t even really date; the men—no, they were boys—that have come into my life only ever want to waste my time, so… It’s like a twisted game of kiss,marry, kill? Except everyone sucks and there is a good chance someone is going to actually be crazy enough to kill you?” She shrugged, taking a moment to stare up at the sky her lashes heavy with raindrops
“So what’s it gonna be?” she called, her head turning to glance up at Spencer, the challenge in her eyes illuminated by the gas lamps lining the pavement. “You gonna marry, kiss, or kill me, Dr. Reid?”
Spencer’s eyes darkened, accepting her challenge with a mix of desire and determination as he stepped closer. Wordlessly, closing the space between them, his hand gently cradling her jaw, his touch an even balance between tender and possessive. He leaned in, devouring her lips, capturing her in a kiss that was anything but tentative. The kiss was electric, a rush of sensation that made the world around them disappear. His other hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into the damp fabric.
Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers gripping the damp fabric that clung to his chest, pulling him closer still. She melted into him, the feel of his lips moving against hers sending shivers down her spine despite the warmth that blossomed in her chest. The rain pounded around them, soaking their clothes and plastering her hair to her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Spencer held her, the way his mouth moved over hers with a hunger that left her breathless.
“I’m betting on all three,” she whispered against his lips, her voice dripping with desire.
         “All three…” he repeated, pulling away just enough to press a kiss to her forehead, his hands still cradling her face. “I am way too old for you…” he muttered breathlessly, his head shaking as he brought it down to rest against hers.
“The bureau seems to disagree,” her retort was quick, her lips ghosting over his. “And like I said earlier, it doesn’t bother me. I’m a big girl. I know what I want.” She kissed him one more time, hard and quick, before bolting through the park towards the car, leaving Spencer standing in the rain like a lovesick kid.
Spencer watched her go, his heart pounding hard and heavy against his ribs while his mind raced a million miles a minute as he tried to make sense of the fact that his ‘wife’ just might actually like him.
“Are you coming or what?” The rain had died down enough for Y/N’s voice to travel with ease. Spencer ran his hand through his wet curls, pushing them off his face before breaking into a jog up to the car. When she was within arm's reach, Spencer pulled her close, just taking a moment to hold her, fantasize that this life they were leading could be his reality.
Y/N wasted no time, her lips finding the curve of his jaw with ease, her hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. Spencer let out a groan, his head turning just enough to grant her better access to the sensitive skin at his neck, carefully guiding her back against the car door before returning his hand to her jaw, drawing her lips up to his.
There was a moment of bliss, where this was the only world that mattered, just a couple of lovestruck kids, then the shrill tone of Spencer’s phone cut through the air.
“Let it ring,” she all but whined.
“That’s Emily’s ringtone—” he groaned, fishing the all too loud phone out of his pocket and sighing loudly before putting the phone to his ear. “It’s not really a good ti-” he stopped, his gaze flicking down to Y/N, her frame pressed against the car door, another sigh leaving his now slightly kiss-bruised lips as he untangled himself from her. “No, I understand, I hear you. We’re heading back to the house… we’ll be there to meet the officer.” She took that as her cue, silently slipping into the passenger seat. Spencer stayed outside, pacing the length of the car, nodding to himself as Emily continued to talk.
“I’ll let her know.” His voice was muffled from behind the window. “Yup. Okay. We’ll call you if there’s any update. Good night.” Y/N watched as he hung up the phone, his head hanging low for a moment before he turned, striking the back door in a heated flash of anger, before he stalked around the car, climbing into the driver's seat.
It’s silent for a moment, the car tense with now long-forgotten lust as Spencer tossed his phone into the center console.
“There’s another couple. Same MO, same calling card.” She could see the frustration bubbling to the surface again as Spencer’s knuckles started to turn white against the steering wheel. “Local field agent is going to bring the updated file and the crime scene photos to the house…”
“Spence, this isn’t your fault—”
“I never said it was,” he bites back, sending Y/N shrinking into her seat. “I’m sorry… I just— I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to snap at you… I know there was nothing we could’ve done. But it's still frustrating.”
She nods, now her turn to comfort him, her hand hesitantly reaching out across the center console to pry his from the wheel, gently squeezing. “I know, Spence. I know. We’ll figure this out, build our profile, but unfortunately, we just need a little more time. Hopefully soon enough, this unsub will take the bait and it’ll be us against them…” She chuckles softly, shaking her head in an attempt to lighten the mood. “God, that’s morbid… thinking it’ll be a relief to have a murderer place a target on your head…”
“You get used to it…” he said, any warmth in his voice evaporated as the engine roared to life.
the brink of a wrinkle in time
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taglist : @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @guiltyyassin @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @cherrycemeterry @hiireadstuff @r-3dlips @sweetpeterparker @catertotshitposts
I hope i got everyone! if you’d like to be added to the taglist don’t hesitate to lemme know and as always i’d love to know the thoughts and feelings! xo
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lilioopdf · 4 months ago
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always enough time (cardigan)
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pairing: reader x (childhood best friend! + college!) pepe marti
notes: fluff, a little angst, then fluff again! 3.2k words (oops 😓😓 i should've probably split this up)
warnings: mentions of alcohol
a/n: dedicating this to my lovely mutuals who have been here from the very beginning and even before i started writing 💗💗 idk if this is too sappy but i genuinely love you guys for interacting with my writing posts and my non-racing posts because it really does mean so so much to me and i didn’t know any better way to say thank you
and if you’re reading this, have a lovely lovely day/ahead ahead 💞💞 may people always shower you in love and warm hugs
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the first time his eyes meets yours, you’re 4, clinging onto your father’s trousers as he speaks to another man about work related things. it is a business event, after all. he waves at you, a complete stranger then, and he watches as your head tilts a little, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise, before you hide your face behind your father.
he’s six, and yet he still feels his face burn in embarrassment, all because the prettiest girl at the party didn't say hi back.
he sees you again the next day, when you're both having dinner with your fathers at a hidden little restaurant near the beach. your fathers recognise each other almost instantly, and you suddenly find yourself sat next to him as the adults talk about complicated grown up topics over some drinks.
after dinner, he offers you half his cookie under the table, and you give him half of your ice cream in return.
he's too shy to say anything this time, but he lets you play with his toy car the very moment he notices you looking at it curiously.
it's a strange start to your friendship, but it's a sweet one nonetheless.
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you grow up together, but at a distance, only seeing each other during summers when you would follow your fathers to overseas work conferences.
he looks out for you for years.
when you're 8, he teaches you how to ride a bike. how to tie your shoelaces so you don't have to stick to velcro shoes forever. how to run faster, how to run without tripping over your own feet. he's gentle with you, and doesn't ever seem to mind your clumsiness.
you're only ever the same height as him once, and that is when you're 11. that year, his hair is almost always a little too overgrown, but he smiles more, and he has more stories to tell. he's at a new school now, one where they can bring their own phones with them. he tells you about the new subjects he's learning; physics, chemistry, english lit, and history. he has more friends now, and he shows you pictures of them alongside their text messages about online games you don't quite get.
when you're 13, he seems so different from the boy you knew last year. he's significantly taller than you now, and his voice cracks a less frequently than it used to, but he still blushes lightly whenever it happens. you don't mind though. if anything, it makes him even more endearing. pepe tells you about how he joined his school's soccer team this year, but you're sure you would've known even if he didn't tell you. he's so much happier these days, but he seems so grown up too. so much more ahead of you in life, at least.
the year you turn 15, things start to feel a little funny. 2 years feels like too big of a difference between the two of you now, and he just feels like too much of a boy. he towers over you now, and his voice has changed so much that you couldn't recognise it when he called out your name at the airport. you notice how the girls around you seem to look at him a little longer, letting their gaze linger on him for a little too long before they notice you at the side, standing awkwardly and feeling just a little too out of place.
you don't know how to feel about the fact that he's almost always looking at you instead.
now, he's quicker at picking up on your body language. he puts an arm around you and holds you when he can tell that your cramps are too bad, he's quick to offer you his jacket when the wind is just a little too chilly, and he's always carrying around your things for you. "just looking out for you," he says. "don't want you feeling alone when i'm right here."
and then you're 16, and lines start to grow a little blurry. it's a year full of insecurities and unfufilled longing, and most of the summer is spent in your head. it's weird to hang around him like that now. you start to distance yourself from him, but you're pretty sure he doesn't notice anyway. he still brings you around for dinner with him and to hang out, and you accept, but you don't ask him to follow you to places you'd like to visit anymore.
you run into a school friend of his one day, and you're suddenly made aware of just how differently he acts around you. his friend's nice to look at, you think. pepe tells you that's he's a soccer teammate from school. he calls you pretty and asks for your instagram, but pepe says something you don't understand in spanish and his friend just nods, apologises, and leaves, leaving you feeling just a little wounded and put off. you wonder if you did something wrong, but you're too scared to even ask your school friends for advice. they've all passed this silly stage anyway— you're the only one who's never even had a crush, let alone be asked out.
pepe gets his first girlfriend by the end of the year, and you're almost happy for him, except you can't help but feel a little jealous. it's silly though, you think. you're just a lovesick teenage girl pining over an older boy. she's cool and loud and she's always able to visit the same places and parties as him. a perfect match. he sees her more often than he sees you anyway.
your friendship ends on a rocky note the year you turn 17. neither of you follow your fathers the next year. neither of you can. it's pepe's last year with you before going off to university.
that summer, you're on your phone almost the whole time, texting a guy from school who's just asked you out. a hockey player of some sort. he parties and drinks a lot, but he's nice to you, and somewhat interested, you suppose.
when pepe finds out, he lets out a huff of laughter. "you're not seriously considering dating him though, are you? this is just for fun, right?"
you feel yourself still at his words. "what do you mean?"
"he won't be good for you. you're just... not like that. that lifestyle wouldn't suit you," he replies nonchalantly.
your blood burns just underneath the surface of your skin in anger and annoyance.
"who are you to say what lifestyle suits me? maybe this is what i want. i've grown up, you know."
you're more hurt than angry, although you're not quite sure why. your tone is indignant and fierce, and you watch as his expression turns neutral and unreadable and his eyes flicker from you, to your phone, and back at you again.
when he realises that you're being serious, his face contorts into an ugly expression, one of anger and almost a little bit of hurt.
"fine, suit yourself then."
then he walks out the room, and hot tears start running down your face.
and that is that. he still says goodbye to you at the airport, but the both of you don't hug this time.
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you try not to think about him for the next two years.
you drown yourself in your schoolwork, tackling assignment after assignment, exam after exam, anything to prevent yourself from indulging in any thoughts of him.
when a childhood friend brings him up one day, asking why you don't meet him during summer anymore, you pretend that he was just a phase. just a blip in your life; minor and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
time goes by, and you continue to study hard, because you want to study humanities and the arts in university but still have the grades to prove that you could've done stem if you wanted to (like pepe, although you'd never admit to thinking that).
and then in a blink of an eye, you've graduated, and your months long break comes around as you wait for uni results to come back out.
its been a full two years now, but you'd be lying if you said you'd forgotten about him completely.
how could you?
you thought about him during mugging season in school, and during university applications, and sometimes (maybe especially so) during interschool games for soccer, imagining what it would be like if he was here, playing for your school team. (you also wonder what it'd be like to wear his jersey and cheer him on loudly and proudly in front of the whole schoot, but that's not something you're ever going to admit.)
you spend your summer soothing yourself to sleep by reminding yourself that pepe's been gone for two years now, and you're still doing fine. that you have done fine without him, and that you can and will continue to do so.
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imagine your horror when you realise you've been posted the same university as pepe. same campus too.
your father is ecstatic. he immediately wants to call up pepe's dad and tell him the news but you beg him not to, tears in your eyes. you can't risk looking like a hopeless and dependent little puppy even before the school term has started.
before the first day of uni, you've already studied the campus map well enough to plan routes that avoid going near the school of engineering, just so you can avoid pepe. you're almost 100% confident that you'll be able to hide from him for his remaining two years in uni. plus, you definitely look different from the way you did two years ago, so you technically have an extra layer of protection.
except you have an orientation camp the very first week of uni, and you're just that lucky enough to have a familiar face as one of your orientation group leaders.
he recognises you instantly. how could he not?
you half expect him to ignore you, or at least, pretend not to know you. but to your surprise, he smiles. in fact, he beams at you, and he waves before jogging over to sit next to you. your mouth is slightly agape, and you can't tell if this is some kind of cruel joke that he's playing on you right now.
"how have you been? you're lucky to be here today. the weather isn't usually this nice, and i know you get chilly easily." he's still smiling while speaking to you, and he's just acting so... normal, but you?
you feel like smacking him. you left each other on a sour note two years ago, after being friends for more than a decade, and he chooses to talk about the weather, of all things.
but you just put on a smile and act the same.
arguing with a best friend is one thing, having to make small talk about mundane, boring, topics with a friend you've known for years and then forgotten is another. you can't figure out if talking to him is helping heal your heart or slowly shattering it into more tiny little pieces.
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the first few weeks of uni fly by, and you don't end up using any of your pre-planned routes.
in fact, you end up meeting pepe almost every day before you your lessons. for breakfast, or brunch, or lunch... and maybe even dinner, once both your classes are done.
you can’t read him that well, and you wonder if this is only weird for you. but you’re not one to complain. you’re not one to take this for granted either.
you’ve spent years of your life missing summer and pepe, and then you spent two more years missing him without even speaking to him at all. no, you’re definitely not taking this for granted.
you learn that he's playing soccer for a kids charity event that happens yearly, that he's studying mechanical engineering (which doesn't surprise you at all, not really), and that he's broken up with his girlfriend, because of different goals in life or something. you stop yourself from thinking too hard about whether or not the both of you have compatible life goals upon hearing the last part.
he’s still sweet to you.
maybe even more so now that he can actually look out for you. he always gives you his jacket when you’re cold, offers to help you run your errands on busy days, and he even helps you get special oppourtunities thanks to his friends and connections. and when you’re sick, he gives you updates for classwork even though he’s not in the same classes as you, bringing you heat packs and checking up on you daily with warm teas and essential balms.
it's all so lovely that you could almost cry.
except he’s always just a little too stiff around you. too hesitant to touch, too close for distance.
he'll bring you heat packs on your period, and allow you to lean on his stronger frame when the cramps get too bad, but he never gets close enough to cuddle. and when either of you stay over for too long while studying together, he always offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch, but he never allows himself to lie in the same bed as you.
it's all so polite but so frustrating, and you're even more upset because you have absolutely no right to feel that way. he's your best friend, and he has been for years. he's not someone you could ever have the priviledge of dating, and he deserves a friend he can count on, not someone who's helplessly unable to stop their one-sided longing for him.
and so you let another six months slip away as you spend more time with pepe in your head than physically, while he continues keeping a distance from you, leaving you wondering why.
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suddenly it's feburary, and pepe's been so busy with schoolwork and training for the upcoming charity match that you just don't see him that much anymore. you're pulled back into that aching feeling of loneliness, and busying yourself with your own schoolwork and friends doesn't seem to help.
i can't risk doing badly this semester, he says. this is the one that counts. i’ll have to find myself a good internship for portfolio— maybe with formula one, he says. you nod. you’d be proud of him regardless of what he did anyway.
you end up following him to the gym in the early hours of the morning just to hang out with him, even if hanging out now means you just watch him get through his workout routine while you sit next to him and sort out your schedule.
his friends refer to you as pepe's girlfriend now, and you stopped correcting them when you realised that pepe didn't seem to care. you can't blame them anyway, you're together almost all the time. you're always waiting for him at his apartment after classes, usually in an oversized t-shirt or hoodie of his, and he even wakes up early just to bring you breakfast before class.
the domesticity of it all makes you ache, but you can't even bring yourself to imagine what if would be like if your relationship was actually as desired.
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pepe visits you the night before the charity match.
he brings you a jersey. his jersey, and he shyly asks if you'd be interested in showing up to watch him the next day. you almost scream with joy, but you control yourself, accepting it gracefully and holding the jersey gently and close to your chest.
you whisper a string of thank yous, careful not to wake your roommate up, and all pepe does is pull you in for a hug. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and all you can do is press yourself closer to him, taking in the scent of clean laundry and his cologne.
before he leaves, he flashes you a teasing smile, a somewhat knowing look on his face as he asks, "am i going to have to say it, or will you?"
you're caught off guard by his comment, and you just tilt your head in confusion, unsure what he's talking about. but he doesn't explain further. he just chuckles, gently shakes your shoulder, and leaves.
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you show up to pepe's match half an hour before it starts, just so you can get a good view of the match. the venue is already half full, and you're just grateful to have gotten front row seats.
you act as casual as you can, pretending that your heart isn't racing while you're wearing his soft jersey, with the number 23 boldly printed onto the back. when your friend teases you about the way your cheeks seem to be permenantly pink, you gently slap her arm and tell her to be quiet in a weak attempt to save your face, which only results in a laughing fit from her.
the match is mostly a blur, but both teams are very evenly matched, and there's suddenly only 4 minutes left to the end of the game and both teams are stuck in a tie.
you're not sure when your focus zoned in on pepe. it could've been since the very start of the match, but you somehow catch that split second when the ball is passed over to him, and his expression changes from one of neutrality to determination. you watch as he expertly drabbles the ball between player to player, rushing to get close enough to the goalpost to shoot before the end of the match.
you're sure that everyone in the venue held their breath at the exact same moment you did, and that time must've stilled when pepe slid and kicked the ball into the goal, just 30s before the end of the match.
the whole venue erupts into cheers. it's defeaning, but all you can think of is how proud you are of him in this moment.
you don't take your eyes off him for even a second, and when the referee finally signals the end of the match, he looks at you too.
he’s all sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead, face flushed.
he's sipping from his bottle, standing directly in front of you, having run straight to you after the match.
your boy.
there's a wicked grin on his face, and you can feel the heat rise up to your face as you take in all of him in awe.
everyone’s staring, you think, but you know he doesn’t care, so why should you?
you barely allow yourself time to hesitate, but he's quicker.
he kisses you.
his mouth is warm and soft, and yet there's a certain pressure and intensity with which he kisses you that makes you think that he probably wanted this as much as you did, maybe more.
and when you both finally break apart for air, you realise that all the cheering is now directed at the both of you, and you can't help but start laughing shyly. he smiles at that, and presses a quick kiss to your temple before rushing off for a debrief, with promises to talk later.
you don't even care that your time together has been cut short, because all you can think about now is how grateful you are that you won't have to return him this jersey.
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© lilioopdf 2024 – please do not plagarise, repost, or translate any of my work on this or other platforms
thank you for reading this far!! stay hydrated and safe always!! 💗💗
taglist: @oscnorris/@httpiastri (the one and only person on my taglist 💕💕 also i realised i forgot to ask you which account you wanted me to tag so i’m just doing 2/3 :p)
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whatever-imagines · 4 months ago
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“Princess”
Fem! Butch! Wolverine x fem! Reader
Tags: No use of y/n; some mention of Origins, Scott and reader are low key besties; repressed EVERYONE; drinking; lemme know what I missed; the fan art and everything has got me.
Did you know Logan can be a girls name? That’s why it’s unchanged.
Rated: T
——————
“Watch it, bub.” Was the first thing she ever said to you; growled out and annoyed, wearing clothes that weren’t hers, barefoot stomping through the halls of the mansion to follow Professor Xavier to the infirmary.
You were just in the way. The stranger was already irritated by the looks of things and you were too dumbstruck on how handsome you thought she looked to get out of the way in enough time. The proximity, the raspiness of her voice, it made your breath hitched and you stared unblinkingly at her retreating form and you knew; you were fucked.
You were told by a calm Scott that her name was Logan. He had put a comforting hand on your shoulder, mistaking your sudden infatuation for fear or discomfort. Scott tells you they found her after a fight with another mutant the team had been hunting down and found her, rapidly healing and unconscious next to the corpse of the dangerous mutant they were looking for. So they brought her to the mansion, to study her and ask questions.
You hear about the fights Logan has with Scott all the time, and how she always flirts with Jean and Ororo, you see her wander the halls in the school portion of the mansion, and you always give her a wide berth. Half because, in a sense, she does intimidate you; she has a powerful mutation and fierce attitude, she could easily destroy you in any kind of fight. And the other reason you avoid her is-
“Jesus, watch it, squirt!”
“I’m so sorry!” You breath out, leaning down to gather the papers that went flying after you literally ran into Logan. They were mission reports that Scott’s been demanding to see, and in your haste to bring them to the team leader, you ran into the school’s resident loner.
You steadfastly refuse to make eye contact, focusing solely on picking up the papers that were spilled. You could feel the intense brown eyes of the other woman bearing down at you, but still you refuse to look up as you sputter apologies. you felt like you could cry from how embarrassed you were but you kept a stiff upper lip.
This is why you avoid her. For this exact reason.
You don’t have an impressive mutation, a very mild healing one that only extends to saving cuts and scraps; and you spent most of that time with your mutation healing yourself because you were so clumsy. What an embarrassment to your kind, you often think. Compared to Logan, you have no real use to the team; you don’t even go out to fight, you just help organize the paperwork and manage the little things so everyone can focus on keeping others safe and bettering themselves. You’re not nearly as impressive as the woman before you.
Once most of the papers are collected, a pair of brown cowboy boots enter your field of vision, and the clearing of a throat makes you slowly raise your gaze up to Logan, the fearsome Wolverine.
At this angle, she looked gorgeous, and curious.
“I’ve seen you around.” She drawls lazily, whatever bite she had earlier gone. “You’re Scott’s secretary.”
You wince in slight annoyance. “I’m the team’s assistant. I just-“ you gesture to the papers around you. “I handle the boring stuff. Help out when I’m needed.” Grabbing the last paper you awkwardly stand up. “Heal scraped knees and alike.”
Her large hand shoots out and grabs your shoulder to steady your wobbling self. Her hand was burning hot, and you could almost feel the callouses from years of fighting and doing god knows what through the cardigan you wore. You swore you felt your stomach literally flip at the contact.
She gave you a weird look, like she couldn’t believe you were this helpless. You quickly schooled your flustered expression and made some excuse up, how Scott would be more annoying if you put off giving him these papers any longer, and you scuttle down the hall, regretfully leaving the warm hand of Logan behind.
Scott also gave you a questioning look when you slammed the door to his room shut after all but running to where he was.
“… you okay, pal?” He asked, half bemused but you could tell by his tone he was ready to be serious if needed.
You sigh, and throw the paper files at him. He caught them easily. “I’m fine I’m just-“ you sigh again. “I’m just a mess.”
—-
The third time Logan speaks to you, it’s when you’re sneaking back into the mansion after a lukewarm date. It’s not like it was a secret, but still the only people you told were the Professor, so you could get permission to leave, and Ororo, who helped you get ready while you panicked.
You quietly meander into the kitchen, just to grab a soda in the dark, when the light suddenly gets flicked on.
“You look nice.” A raspy drawl says, surprising you so bad you slam the fridge door shut.
Your head snaps to the source of the sound, and there you see Logan, face half obscured in shadows.
“Oh!” You gasp. “Thank you…” you tamper off, half ready to explain yourself but deciding it better to keep your trap shut.
The Wolverine’s head cocks sideways before speaking again. “Any particular reason for the get up?” It felt more like a question in an interrogation.
You swallow thickly, suddenly feeling very self conscious. “I had a date.”
Finally pushing herself from the wall, Logan makes her way to where you stand. “Oh?” she inquires. there’s something in her eyes that make your stomach swoop but you couldn’t put a name to it. It almost looks like jealousy, but that wouldn’t make any sense in this situation. She just must be angry you got to leave the mansion and she’s still on probation. “Have fun with him?”
Him.
The insulation leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
“She was quite boring actually.” You gently correct, pulling the tab off your soda can to open it. “An accountant or something. Kept telling me all the formulas she knew.” You mumble, bringing the drink to your lips and ignoring the way Logan’s eye bore into you.
“… don’t like the studious type?” She asks, tone playful but in the edge of something.
You’re sure to stew on your answer for a second, for whatever reason it feels like you should reply carefully. “I like reliable but not dull, if that makes sense.”
She digest your words, her eyes still staring, and you still ignoring the stare.
“You don’t look at me a lot.” Her sentence was quick and only added tension to the air. “Everyone stares-“ a hand grasps your shoulder and forces you to face her; her brown eyes leering at you, dry lips pressed into a thin line, the width of her nose scrunching slightly in irritation- “… except you.”
There’s a beat of silence. You can hear the fridge thrum with electricity, your heart thrum with anxiety.
“… it’s rude to stare.” Is all you can offer.
Logan snorts, amused or angry you don’t know, but her hot hand lets go of your shoulder and she heavily steps away.
“Smart-ass.” She chuckles, and disappears back into the shadow, the should have the keys she wears on her belt jingling away with her departure.
You breathe out slowly to calm your nerves, and sip your soda.
—-
It’s a party; a celebration of surviving another year at the school. Your anniversary. Scott makes it a big deal for you every year, as it’s his anniversary too, you and a handful of others.
“Xavier’s First Class Alumni” the banner proudly proclaims. You smile wistfully at it, happy to be where you are now but pushing the memory of how you got here out of your mind.
The cages, endless rows of cages. Scientists and doctors constantly doing rounds and taking samples like you were a computer giving off results instead of a person made of flesh and blood. There was a fight outside, something tremulous, but you had passed out from blood loss easily in the first few minutes of the commotion. You awoke to Scott cradling you as carrying you onto some extraordinary aircraft where a bald man awaited with a patient smile.
Scott was blinded by an impressive mask for safety then, not even he could tell you what had happened. Only a few who went on the ship stay with the professor, at the school. Many went back home to their families; but you stayed. And nobody could really recall how exactly they were all freed from Three Mile Island.
You’re leaning against a wall in the basement as the streamers hand low in the pulsing light of the party, deep bass music playing loudly enough to drown out most thought but not wake the children upstairs. You look to your left to see Scott and Jean laughing merrily with Kurt and Ororo and you smile.
The scent of musk fills your senses. You’re warm, incredibly warm, and the pressure of another weight against your right side. You quickly look to see Wolverine staring down at you, a beer bottle in her hand resting against her leg and the other arm propping herself over you against the wall.
“Enjoying the party?” She rasps, the bottle coming to her lips for a swig.
You watch carefully as the amber liquid passes into her mouth and she swallows, and you lick your bottom lip without realizing it.
She watches it though.
“It’s a fun thing for everyone.” You settle on saying.
She scoffs. “So you were one of the originals? Chuck’s first students?”
You shrug. “It was infinitely better than where I was.” Her bushy eyebrow quirked up in interest but you soldier on. “I’m very grateful to Professor Xavier for all he’s done to keep us safe.”
She rolls her eyes, a touch of a wild smile teases the corner of her mouth; Logan seems to be in an arguing mood and couldn’t get to Scott, so she settled on you.
“Safe, sure. Cooped up and all.” She bemoans.
And for the first time since you’ve encountered Logan, you’re… irritated with her. You pout and cross your arms, not unlike a child.
“Xavier’s done endless things to make everything better for us here.” You argue.
Your sudden passion seems to intrigue Logan. She straightens up more, once again reminding you of how small you exactly are compared to her. “How so, princess?” She growls out.
The tone was sardonic but you filed the nick name away to fantasize about later.
“Well, no one’s gabbed a needle into me without my consent since I got here 15 years ago, so that’s one thing.” You spit out, annoyed.
Logan’s face contorts ever so slightly, suddenly closed off but still watching you raptly.
“I haven’t had to hear direct death threats from everyone around me; I get to see future generations of mutats learn and grow-“ you gasp to continue your rant. “and be raised in a safe enviro-“
“Sorry.”
The singular word was delivered almost bashfully, if Logan could do anything bashful. She still staring down at you, hand in her pocket, next to her keys. The beer bottle taps her thigh absently.
No one was watching you, everyone wrapped up in their own bubbles and conversations. You vaguely hear the limbo song start playing.
You uncross your arms and tuck your chin down. “I’m sorry.” You usher out quickly.
“Don’t-“
“I got heated and I’m sorry.” You reiterate, a little more purpose behind your words.
Logan keeps staring at you, waiting. And your mouth just keeps moving.
“Everyone sees this day as a great day because the Professor found us, but to me it’s always gonna mark the day the experiments stopped. It means that something awful happened to me and it ended but it still happened and…” you trail off, one arm crossing your body to curl into yourself.
“… I know something about being experimented on.” Logan gravely states. “I’m sorry for pissing you off.” She amends.
You look up at her again, and nod. “Thanks.” You timidly respond.
She nods back.
Scott calls to you and you turn to look at him. He gestures for you to come over, and when you look back at Logan to say goodbye, she was already gone.
—-
Logan was gone for about a week after that. When she came back, everyone acted like she never left at all.
You still give her room; she’s complained before about the others “suffocating” her. But now she enters your space.
She sits as close to you as she can turn team meeting while you take the notes. She’s always in the halls you frequently use as short cuts. She always has to talk to Xavier right after you and you constantly bump into her as you leave his office.
And she always says the same thing.
“Hey, princess.”
It almost makes you crumble sometimes. But you straighten yourself out mentally and greet her back politely, and quickly rush away in fear you might make a fool of yourself again.
It eventually comes to head at some point. You mention to Ororo that you might try dating again. Maybe sign up for an online dating service if you could find a queer friendly one on the deep web. Sometime later that same day you get cornered by Wolverine.
She had just came back from a bike ride; hair wild and leather jacket over jean jacket over a men’s blue button down shirt over wife beater. Jeans still wet from the snow outside along the bottom, boot a darker color than normal.
“Lemme buy you a drink.” She says, so seriously and quickly you almost misunderstood her.
The proximity of her throws you off, you’re in some corridor not far from the garage. “I’m sorry?”
“Let. Me. Buy. You. A. Drink.” She reiterates, enunciating each word clearly enough you could identify the trace amount of her northern accent. Her arm glides up and once again she leans over you, her shadow casted on your form.
“… why?”
Her other hand comes up to your face and, with a gentleness you would not associate with the Wolverine, carefully holds your cheek in her palm, thumb on your bottom lip.
“I like your face. Lemme buy you a drink.” She asks again.
Your stomach swoops again, your ears burns with affection and you’re biting your cheek so hard as not to squeak in victory you taste copper in your mouth.
“Okay.”
She sags minutely, as if in relief.
“Thanks, princess.”
209 notes · View notes
neptuneiris · 2 years ago
Text
cardigan (01/03)
you drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleedin'.
pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!
summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.
word count: 7.3k
next part • series masterlist
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hello! i'm very happy to include myself also here with fanfics of aemond, our husband:) this is my first post here on tumblr and i have many more planned. also english is not my first language but i'm still learning. without further ado, enjoy!
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Being in love with your best friend for a long time is one of the most beautiful feelings but also one of the most heartbreaking.
Especially if the feeling is not reciprocated.
Even though he and you are very different in some ways, like he's the extroverted person and you're the introverted one in friendship or he comes from a rich family and you've always been the scholar in everything, you still have a lot of things in common.
And that's why you're both best friends.
Even when you met him in high school, in the most prestigious school in King's Landing, you being a scholarship student obviously, you would have never imagined that there were those things in common between him and you.
Until the history teacher asked for a team project of two and you ended up paired with Aemond Targaryen.
You felt it would be the death of you the moment the most popular and richest boy in the whole school focused his eyes on you for the first time by identifying you as his partner.
Already some girls were making cruel comments to you every time they looked at you in the hallways or in the classrooms about not being on the same level because you didn't have money like all of them.
And now teaming up with Aemond Targaryen himself for a History project, you thought, would be unbearable and insufferable.
He was popular. Exaggeratedly popular.
Popular with all the girls because of his good looks and they made comments about how much they wanted to date him. And you understood them, because Aemond's appearance could not simply go unnoticed.
Tall, white skin, distinguished features and incredible long platinum hair. But more than anything else, his sapphire eye caught the attention.
Where his left eye should have been, it was replaced by that precious sapphire jewel. While her other untouched eye was a beautiful lilac color.
And even with that look he didn't push people away nor was he intimidating, on the contrary, the sapphire was what attracted people around him, especially girls.
The favorite of all the teachers, he was the most handsome, popular and richest in the whole school, a lover of parties, reading, piano and sports.
They said he was kind and a good person, but you were suspicious. You thought he must be arrogant like most of the rich students in that place if he was the richest student of all.
And if he was nice to you, surely it must be to keep up his appearance of the nice popular guy that everyone loves and wants as a friend.
But how wrong you were…
As you and Aemond made progress on the project until you finished it and handed it in to the professor, you realized that he really is a nice guy.
Still, you were left in doubt, thinking that possibly by the time you finished the project, he and you wouldn't have to spend any more time together and he would ignore you.
But your surprise was great when in History class, which was the only class you shared together, he started sitting next to you, had a conversation with you, and you did a few more team assignments at his request.
And yet you were still suspicious.
Until one day when you were putting away a few books and notebooks in your locker, the same group of girls that always bothered you showed up again and started with their cruel and mocking comments.
You were used to them, what you weren't used to was being made fun of more openly in public. And just when you felt you were about to start crying in the middle of it all, just making the situation worse, without them stopping teasing you down the hall, Aemond appeared.
It was only enough to place himself in front of you in protective way, with a serious and cold look, to then speak to them in a deadly tone if they were already finished.
The surprised and bewildered girls didn't understand at first why he was so defensive about you.
"Stop bothering her. I don't want to see or know that you did it again."
Those had been the simple and last words enough for him to address to the group of girls in the middle of the hallway and then grab your shoulder and start carrying you away from there along with him.
And from there it all started.
You and Aemond started getting to know each other better and spending time together as friends. He even started inviting you to lunch with him and his friends in the cafeteria.
And as a result of that you discovered a common taste for reading, as well as musical tastes, series and movie sagas or genres, until you became best friends.
The friendship continued after graduating from high school and after applying to the same university until today. Aemond decided to follow the same path as his entire family and chose a career in management, while you chose a career in psychology.
After you both found out that you had been accepted to King's Landing University, Aemond started talking about how he would now rather have his own apartment near the university than choose a residence hall or a fraternity.
And you decided, because of the scholarship, to have to choose the residence hall.
The problem was that you would have to be paying monthly to keep your room, not too much but the money you were getting from your parents wouldn't be enough and you weren't willing to ask them for more.
So you mentioned the fact that you would have to get a part-time job near the university so it wouldn't be complicated and everything would be in your favor.
But Aemond, absurd, told you that it was not necessary, neither the job nor the residence, to later tell you that you could be his roomie and live the dream of living together, like every wish of two best friends.
"Have you lost your mind? How will I be able to live with you, Aemond?"
"Well, as normal, like you live with your parents, but now the two of us together in an apartment."
He explains with all the simplicity in the world, as if it was no big deal, while you look at him completely distrustful and absurd.
"No, Aemond. You're not—
"I've already got it all planned out, okay?"
He interrupts you while he takes a bite of his green apple and continues leaning casually against the kitchen counter of his house.
"Helaena helped me find a very good apartment near the university, it has everything necessary with two bedrooms and two private bathrooms," he explains, "I already talked to the agent, I'll go to see the apartment this Thursday, you can even come with me to tell me what you think and probably a week before we enter the university I'll pay what it costs and it will be all mine."
"You will pay what it costs?" you repeat in shock.
"Yeah," he answers you with all the simplicity in the world.
"Are you actually going to buy the apartment?"
"Yeah," he answers now confused, "Didn't you hear everything I said?"
"But I thought it was a rent, not a purchase."
"What? No. I'm going to buy the apartment, I don't want rent."
He makes it clear to you and now you stay completely silent, watching him even with that slight surprise and also still feeling how absurd his proposal of living together is.
In fact, this is very Aemond Targaryen.
It shouldn't even surprise you that he can afford something like this, obviously because of his rich family. But still, you're not like him in that aspect and that's why you're surprised.
"In fact I want to speed up the whole process, I don't want to be at the last minute arranging everything when we're already going into class. So go tell your parents the news and pack your things."
You let out a long breath, running a hand through your hair.
"No, Aemond, I…" you bite your lips, speaking in a soft tone, "I really appreciate you wanting to do this with me but I can't pay you to live together in an apartment that probably costs more than I do. The residency for the scholarship will be charged to me at a low price and—
"And who said I want you to pay me?"
He interrupts you in a serious tone, looking at you in the same way and you look at him incredulously.
"Well, in some way I have to pay you, don't I?" you ask him, "The apartment will be yours, you're the one who paid for it and I can't live there with you for free."
"Y/N, you are my best friend and I am not going to charge you when you know I can pay for it."
"You can't pay for electricity, water and everything without me giving you money in return, Aemond."
"I don't need it. I'm asking you to live together because I really want us to live together, isn't that what you also told me it would be amazing to do together?"
"Yes, but not like this and you know it," you answer with some sadness.
That Aemond is the one who pays for everything so you can live together comfortably only makes you feel like you are taking advantage of him and useless, but obviously you will never say that to him.
Aemond gets very upset when you refer to yourself in a bad way. And even though he's offering you this because he really wants you to do this together, he still makes you feel bad for not contributing anything.
"Hey Y/N," he says and then starts to walk around the bar towards you, "It's okay, really."
And soon enough when he reaches out to you, he pulls you into an embrace as you continue to sit on the stool and he stands in front of you.
His big strong arms lock you against his body protectively as you bury your face in his chest and his fingers begin to gently stroke your hair.
His clean, fresh scent envelops you completely, only making the embrace more pleasant. And you allow yourself to feel close to him and melt in his arms.
You allow it even though you feel more and more that strong feeling that you wish you didn't feel so much but up to this point it's unavoidable.
"How about this? I'll do everything I told you while you take care of the food and laundry."
He asks you with a certain excited tone, and a small smile on his lips as you pull away from each other just enough, without breaking the embrace, just so you can both see each other's faces.
And you are still not very sure, and not because you don't want to do it, but because you still don't think you have much to contribute, which he notices.
"Don't you want to be my roomie?" he asks you now with a sad and disappointed tone, "Don't you want to watch movie marathons and series with me, eat unhealthy food and stay up until four in the morning?"
You inevitably let out a small laugh at the mere thought of them being wonderful plans.
"And watch those Egyptian documentaries you like so much?" you add.
"Those and also watching the whole Harry Potter saga, although I don't understand your obsession with those movies."
"Now that's why my answer is no."
You both laugh softly and then he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead to lock you in his arms again.
And now you are both here.
It's been months since you both moved into his apartment together and you took into account Aemond's words to convince you and make you feel good about living together.
While he takes care of everything financially, you take care of doing both of your laundry, cleaning the apartment, paying the HBO account and buying the food, although sometimes he also buys to make a special meal that he likes.
All while fulfilling college and also plans to stay home together some weekends watching documentaries, movies or series until four in the morning.
It has been very rare the time you have gone out partying together, mostly because you are the one who prefers to stay at home instead of going to parties.
But when Aemond wants to party, sometimes you go with him or sometimes you don't, just as he also sometimes accompanies you on your movie weekend or sometimes not.
College has been tough, neither of them will deny it, but they've managed to get through their respective careers and so far being roomies has been wonderful.
And of course, even though your respective career departments aren't close, even in your areas you've heard your best friend's name.
You both just got into college and he again became a well-known and popular person, while you have only made three real friends, Aileen, Sara and Ryan. But despite this, Aemond never forgets his best friend any more than you forget him.
As if you could.
And everything is going great so far.
It's already getting dark, you can see it through the big windows of the apartment, listening to music on your phone while you finish preparing dinner for you and Aemond who shouldn't be long in coming.
He had texted you an hour ago saying he would have a two hour class and would probably be a little late, so you do this for him while singing and humming your favorite songs softly.
You finish serving everything on the plates when you hear a message notification. You leave everything ready on the bar, wipe your hands and pick up your phone to look at the screen, reading a message from your friend Aileen.
[Aileen Herron]: party on saturday?
You frown and are about to answer her message with a no when you hear the sound of the door opening in quick motion and then you see Aemond walk in with a huge smile on his lips and a completely lit up face.
"Hello, pretty one."
You smile with an accusatory look as you stop the music and put your phone back on the bar, watching him carefully.
"Now what's wrong with you? Your two-hour class was amazing?"
He lets out a snort as he throws his backpack on the couch and takes a seat in front of you on one of the stools.
"I wish. It was so fucking boring."
"So why are you smiling like that?"
And again her smile appears, only this time a little more subtle but still excited.
"I have a date."
And that's when again, like every time this happens, you feel your heart shrink and start to break a little bit more with each time your best friend lets you know news like this.
And not wanting to appear false, just as you don't want to show that his words hurt you, you maintain as best you can that genuine smile you put on when he arrived at the apartment so happily.
"Oh really?"
"Yes," he answers you excitedly, "It turns out that when I got out of class and said goodbye to my friends, I was heading to the parking lot when a girl bumped into me…."
And there comes the part where they both apologize, then they start talking, they both start flirting and at the end they exchange numbers.
"She's so pretty, her name is Alys."
You bite your lips and nod keeping the best face you can while this time you start walking around the kitchen and he continues talking, not being able to bear to see his face any closer as he tells you about her.
"She's also studying management so it's more perfect, only she's three semesters ahead of me."
You clear your throat, pouring some soda for both of us.
"So she's older than you."
You say trying not to sound distant and disinterested, to which Aemond shrugs his shoulders at your question.
"Three years is nothing."
You nod, taking a sip of your drink, starting dinner.
"And when is the date?" you ask without looking at him.
"This Saturday. I'm taking her to my mother's favorite restaurant, the one I took you to once, remember?"
Again you nod, feeling a little more that little sharp pain in your chest, but you pretend that nothing is happening and that you're just… happy and excited for him.
"Well, you'll tell me how it went."
You try to smile even a little in his direction and at this he just smiles a little more.
"I hope everything goes well. I really liked her a lot."
And again at this, you have no idea what else to say and remain silent, although he soon speaks again.
"This is for me?" he points to the other plate.
"For who else?" you say obviously and amused.
He laughs and brings the plate towards him.
"Thank you, pretty one."
You try not to let those nicknames affect you at all. But before you know it, it has inevitably gotten to you, as it has countless other times. But you didn't want it to affect you knowing that he has a date this saturday.
"And do you have plans this weekend?" he asks you, more than anything to create conversation after talking about his date.
"Hmm… I don't know yet."
"You don't know?"
He asks you with an expectant look and you just look at him without saying anything and then shrug your shoulders and focus back on your dinner.
"You know, you should… go out."
He says suddenly in a soft voice and you look away from your plate to focus on him again.
"What about your friends from class? Don't they ask you out to party or something?"
"You know I don't like parties, Aemond," you reply in a more serious tone than you expected it to be.
"Yes, I know, but…" he sighs, "I'm just saying that it would do you good to go out once in a while and not stay here all the time."
"I always stay here," you say confused, "I don't understand why you're suddenly worried about that if that's what I've been doing since we've been living together."
"I know," he says cautiously and with an understanding look, "but I mean when I go out partying with my friends, I don't like to know that you're staying here alone. Nor like now that I have a date on saturday and you'll be here again."
You watch him in silence for a few seconds, and he takes the opportunity to continue talking.
"You should meet new people, don't you think?" he asks softly, "The university is very big. Maybe you should meet new people who love to stay at home watching movies and shows like you. That way you'll have company while I'm gone because I…" he grimaces, "I won't always have time for you."
And at that moment, you think you're overreacting, that it's no big deal, that it's just a piece of advice with all the good intentions of your best friend, that you shouldn't.
But still, try as you might, you can't help but feel broken by hearing his words.
Maybe he didn't mean it that way nor did he intend to make you understand those words, but it's like he's telling you that you have no friends, that he's your only friend and that you should meet more people.
And in the face of this, you try not to break down at that moment, so you quickly want to pretend that everything is fine and that everything he said is also fine.
"Yeah, of course, you're right."
You get up with your dirty plate, taking it to the dishwasher to start washing it quickly, turning your back to him.
"Y/N—
"When you finish eating, leave the plate here, I'll wash it in a moment, now I have to finish doing some homework," you interrupt him sounding as normal and casual as possible.
"I didn't mean anything bad Y/N, I just—
"Yes, I know."
You force yourself to interrupt him again putting on your best nonchalant face, turning to him, drying your hands once you finish. And with nothing more to say, you leave the kitchen and head for your room.
That same night you comply with what you say, wanting to clear your head, knowing perfectly well that when you let Aemond know that you are doing homework, he doesn't interrupt you unless it is extremely necessary.
So you take advantage of that and without leaving your room anymore, once you're done you take a shower and get ready for bed.
You find it a bit hard to sleep as you overthink too much, thinking about Aemond more than anything else, about his date and everything he told you afterwards.
It had happened before… Aemond had already told you about going on dates and how they had turned out, you've seen him flirt with many girls at parties, restaurants and at school itself.
You know the feeling. That ugly, heartbreaking feeling.
So why do you again feel like your heart is breaking over his now new date?
Normally all the dates Aemond goes on, never go any further. Aemond hasn't had a single girlfriend since your friendship began.
Nothing tells you that this date could be any different. Maybe he'll only go out with her two or three times and then tell you it was just something to hang out, as usual.
However, you never know.
The next day you and Aemond don't see each other during the day.
Normally on fridays you have class at seven in the morning while he has classes a little later, so once you finish getting ready you leave the apartment and head to the university.
In the course of your classes, your friend Aileen tells you that since you probably don't plan on going out with her and your other friends to party tomorrow Saturday, it would at least be a good plan for you all to go out together tonight for dinner.
And you agree.
Leaving class the four of you head to a fast food restaurant and pass the time talking about school, gossip and so on. At least being with your friends makes you forget about the outside world for a moment and you just laugh and have a good time.
Until the hour starts to get late, Ryan drives Aileen to her residence in his car and Sara is the one who drives you.
You turn the doorknob and enter the apartment looking forward to sleep, as you should since it's almost two in the morning. Usually on weekends you stay up very late but this night especially doesn't seem to be the occasion.
You close the door behind you and start to head to your room, when you enter the living room and find Aemond very comfortable on one of the sofas looking at you at the same time you are looking at him.
You stay quiet for a moment, thinking about just walking in and wishing him good night, but he's the one who speaks first.
"There you are," he murmurs, looking at you seriously, not having his usual soft look as usual, "I was already worried."
"Why?"
"Why?" he repeats incredulously, "I didn't know where you were. I sent you hundreds of messages and you didn't answer. Also I called you and still nothing."
You frown.
"That's not true. You didn't call me."
"I did call you, Y/N."
He tells you more serious than before, almost annoyed and you, confused, pick up your phone and turn on the screen to see that he did indeed call you and sent you hundreds of messages.
The problem? You had your phone on mute and being with your friends you didn't really bother to take your phone out of your pocket.
You let out a long breath and put it back with a sigh.
"I'm sorry, it was on mute," you say briefly.
"And where were you?"
"I went to dinner with friends."
Now he lets out a sigh.
"You could at least let me know you were going to arrive late."
At first you think to yourself that you don't understand why he makes such a big deal about it. As if he wouldn't do exactly the same thing you've done when he decides to go off with his friends to party.
However, you don't want to argue, you just want to sleep.
"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," you mumble, then yawn, "I'll go to sleep."
You are about to walk back to your room but he speaks again.
"So soon?"
You watch him sleepily as he, in his most comfortable clothes, seems to be watching one of his favorite documentaries with some chips, like you always do together every friday.
Except this friday.
"It's two in the morning, Aemond."
"Yes, I know, but I thought you might want to watch a movie, as usual," he says softly, "I bought some of the pizza you like, and also some of the—
"I'm full and very sleepy now, Aem. Another day, yeah?"
You don't even wait for an answer, you just go to your room.
And the next morning you wake up later than usual and you don't even want to get out of bed.
Fortunately you don't run into Aemond, even though saturday mornings is when you have breakfast together and watch movies until noon. But not today.
And you know perfectly well it's because you've been avoiding him. It's what you always do when Aemond lets you know about his next date or after you see him making out with some girl at a party.
And you know you're wrong. But that's the only way you can stop feeling that little sharp pain in your chest and this discomfort all over your being.
Until night falls, you and Aemond finally talk after not seeing each other all day to tell you he's leaving. He don't even need to say where.
Then he leaves and you are left alone in the apartment.
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Finally, what you were hoping for and dreading at the same time happens.
Aemond has fallen in love. Your best friend has fallen in love.
In the end that girl wasn't just to hang out or to forget about her overnight. Aemond went on countless dates with her, which was unusual and eventually the two formalized everything and started dating.
You stopped avoiding him because you knew you couldn't do it forever. You both live together, he is your best friend and if he is going through this now, as much as it hurts, you can only smile and feel happy for him because he really looks happy.
You even met the girl, Alys Rivers.
And as soon as you saw her for the first time when Aemond brought her to the apartment to introduce the two of you, you understood.
Alys is tall, black-haired, with beautiful features, a slender body and possesses the most intense and striking green eyes you've ever seen. Even the way she spoke, smiled, laughed and walked was striking, she was alluring, everything about her screamed the word sexy and elegant.
How could Aemond not like her, when she is so educated, beautiful and also studies the same as him?
Now you understood why Aemond wanted things to really work out this time with this girl. And now everything, little by little, has been different.
With your best friend now having someone, now his time is counted between college and her.
The two of you still spend time together, you live together obviously, but you have seen each other in less time when before the first person you saw when you woke up was Aemond and when you went to sleep as well.
They are getting shorter and shorter on fridays for movies and series, on saturdays you barely see each other during the day and on sundays he totally disappears from the apartment and you don't see each other at all.
Luckily today is friday and Aemond apparently has no plans, not even with Alys, as you both find yourselves watching your favorite movie in the living room while eating chips and as much junk food as possible.
"From so many times you've made me watch this movie with you, I'm already starting to hate it."
You look at your best friend in surprise and completely indignant and then throw a pillow that hits him perfectly in the face.
"How dare you? I didn't say anything about your boring and incredibly long documentaries."
Now he's the one looking at you surprised and indignant.
"What did you just say?"
"Just some of them, not all of them," you clarify, "But those some of them are really unbearable."
"You know what your problem is? That you love the plot of some people trying to get out of a huge maze while my documentaries talk about true historical facts and not pure fiction about dystopias."
"Boring," you sing in long tones.
He lets out a small laugh as he shakes his head and you look at him with a small amused smile.
"You are unbearable."
"Oh come on Aemond, you still like these movies, even if you don't want to admit it."
"Not in a million years."
"You keep fooling yourself but you're not fooling me."
He doesn't say anything back to you because at that moment he receives a message and he looks at his phone quickly.
You watch him briefly, slowly erasing your smile, already anticipating what is going to happen and he confirms it with his next words while still focused on his screen.
"Alys wants me to go with her to a party with her friends."
You don't say anything, you just focus on the movie, avoiding making a bad face, telling yourself to control yourself.
"Well, you don't mind, do you?" he observes you, "I have to go now and pick her up."
You instantly put on a nonchalant face and deny without taking your eyes off the movie.
"Of course not."
"I'll make it up to you, I promise," he says as he gets up, walks over to place a quick kiss on your forehead and then rushes off to his room to get ready.
After that, that's what happens all the time now.
When he finally keeps you company to watch a movie or a series, Alys calls him and he runs to her. It has even happened several times that you arrive at the apartment after school and they are here hanging out.
On saturdays he runs to have breakfast with her, he also leaves with her that same day in the night, also on fridays and on sundays the two of them barely see each other in the night.
Even many nights Aemond has not come to sleep and the next morning when he finally comes back to the apartment, he tells you that he had spent the night at Alys' sisterhood with her.
Alys has also spent nights here. You overhear her and him as they arrive late at the apartment and head to her room. Fortunately you haven't heard anything more than that.
And because of all this, it is that you have become closer to your friends and have gone to as many parties with them, as you can't bear to arrive at the apartment knowing that Aemond is not there and won't show up until the next day.
You know you have developed a dependency on him, which you know is wrong and you avoided with all your might that it wasn't so but in the end it was so.
That's why now you're thankful that you're hanging out more with your other friends. But still, you miss your best friend a lot. He doesn't have time for you anymore and you can't help but feel sad, disappointed and broken because of that.
You understand that Alys is his girlfriend and the best friend shouldn't be more important than the girlfriend, but still, you can't help it.
You're happy for him, you really are. So now you're just left to be content with the little times he and you now have together. Like, for example, his birthday.
He had already told you how he plans to go with his family during the afternoon and then in the night he wants to go out partying with his friends, with you and Alys.
He told you that you could invite your friends, who fortunately they accepted since you didn't want to be alone surrounded by Aemond's friends, whom you know very little and his girlfriend.
So now you get up earlier than usual to go get his present and once you get back to the apartment you hide it in your room, then when you go out again he opens the door of his room at the same time, still sleepy and you throw yourself in his arms.
"Happy birthday!" you exclaim happily between his chest and neck.
He lets out a hoarse little laugh as he locks you in his arms.
"Thank you, pretty one."
You pull away from him smiling.
"How are you feeling?"
He raises an expectant eyebrow at you, amused, still recovering from his sleep.
"How do I feel about my birthday?"
"Yes," you reply simply, "How does it feel to wake up and know that you are now twenty-one?"
"I feel younger instead of older."
"Oh really?"
"When you turn twenty-one you'll understand."
"And why is that?"
He looks at you more expectantly than before and crosses his arms, watching you with amusement.
"That's a lot of talk, tell me what you're hiding."
You instantly feign innocence.
"What are you talking about?"
"It's my birthday present, isn't it?"
"I mean… it is your birthday, but not-hey!" you shout as you see him quickly walk past you and head to your room, where his present is.
"You're hiding my present, I know."
"No, no, wait."
You stand in front of him, between him and your door, panicking, and he looks at you expectantly again.
"Yes, yes, it's your birthday present."
"And I can't see it yet?"
"Yes, but not like this," you say indignantly and then look at him confused, "How did you know?"
He laughs.
"Because I know you."
And soon Aemond finds himself opening the huge gift box you bought for him so you could put in the little puppy you decided to adopt and then Aemond could adopt him.
"No fucking way," he says in disbelief and surprise.
And so he soon holds in his arms the small female dog of the Maltipoo breed with a very light brown fur.
Adoration completely covers your best friend's gaze and he completely melts into the little dog as he licks his hand and face at the same time as Aemond squeals with tenderness and gives him kisses.
And the image couldn't have been more tender and adorable for you.
"I adopted her. She was given to me with a name, it's on her collar. If you don't like it, you can change it, although I think that one suits her perfectly."
Aemond, still watching and holding him tenderly, looks at the collar and reads it.
"Vhagar," and then turns his attention to her with a small smile, "Your name is Vhagar?" he says in a honeyed tone, "Yeah? Do you like that name, my little one?"
He plays with it for a few more moments and then turns his attention back to you, still with all that tenderness and that little smile of excitement.
"Thank you so much, my pretty one."
And again you both embrace while Vhagar is in the middle of you both and also starts to lick your hand making you laugh in tenderness.
After spending the whole morning together playing and getting to know Vhagar, whom Aemond doesn't want to let go, then you both go to a restaurant near the apartment to start with his birthday and just be the two of you.
And finally Aemond goes to his parents' house. He invited you but you decided it was better for him to spend some time with his family only, so you stay home with Vhagar.
Eventually the hours pass and the night comes, which means it's time.
You fix your hair in soft waves, put on a little more makeup than usual to highlight your face, and choose a black skirt, white top, and black booties from your closet.
Aemond calls you down the hall telling you it's time and you both leave the apartment to go pick up Alys and then get to the frat house where his friends live.
The night goes by incredibly long. Even though you are in the company of your friends, you can't help but stare at Aemond who enjoys his girlfriend's company more than anyone else.
You only manage to take one picture with him when you used to fill your gallery on his birthdays, even played every party game possible and now… he's only with Alys.
Even by the time it's too late, the party still isn't over and he finally talks to you after hours to ask if one of your friends would take you home, since he's sleeping over with Alys.
You don't say anything else, just that Ryan will give you a ride and he nods to go back to Alys. It's not like you could tell him anything, you still didn't want to, because after all it is his birthday.
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Today is another very vague and rare night in which Aemond stays at home with you and does not leave with Alys.
You don't complain, on the contrary, you enjoy his and Vhagar's company. You are both watching one of his documentaries and it is a really interesting one, not one of the boring ones.
Aemond talks to you and explains you about his assumptions, also about what he thinks while you are sitting next to him and Vhagar is very comfortably asleep on his lap.
You also share your opinions and some doubts that he answers, both of you without taking your eyes off the screen.
Time passes and you happily believe that you will last this way until the early morning, as it used to be, feeling excited and enjoying his company on nights like these, as you had missed him.
When then, it happens.
You hear the notification of how a message has been sent to him and he looks at the screen, then confirms what you didn't want so much, feeling instantly disappointed.
"There's a party at Alys' sisterhood, she wants me to come."
And knowing he'll look at you, you quickly feign your unconcerned, unaffected look.
"Do you want to come?"
You want to laugh and let out a snort, because it's not like you like the idea of going to his girlfriend's party knowing that he'll leave you alone to be with her.
"No," you reply in the softest possible voice, "I'll stay here with Vhagar."
"Are you sure?" he looks at you with a grimace.
"It's all right Aemond, you go."
He lets out a long breath as he looks back down at his screen to move his fingers on it briefly, then gently removes Vhagar from his lap and gets up from the couch to go get ready.
All your good looks disappear as he turns his back to you and before you know it, you let out a long sigh of disappointment loud enough for him to stop and watch you.
Nerves get the better of you and you look at him again pretending everything is fine, but he knows it's not.
"Y/N," he calls you in a soft voice, walking back to you, "I know we haven't been spending time together like before and—
"You'll be getting late," you quickly try to evade the subject so as not to talk about it, "If you're not going to arrive here to sleep let me know by message."
He lets out a long breath, looking a little distrustful and worried.
"Look," he says as he takes a seat next to you again, "I just want to tell you that I know we don't spend time together like we used to. I don't think you or I expected me to suddenly have a girlfriend—
Clearly not.
You think.
"But I want you to know that not spending time with you was not intentional," he assures you, then takes your hands in his, "And I'm going to make it up to you, I promise."
That's what you always say.
You want to say it, but you just stay silent, watching him, while he looks at you with all the tenderness and with that look that convinces you to believe in his words.
"I've missed our weekends, believe me. And I hate to leave you like this," he confesses, "But I really don't want you to think that I'm choosing Alys over you, I love you both very much and I want to have that balance in my life between her and you."
And at this point her words are actually hurting you instead of helping you.
"Aemond, it's okay," you assure him, even though it's not, "Alys is your girlfriend. It's obvious that you spend more time with her than with me and I totally understand that."
"Really?"
"Yes, I promise," you assure him and you couldn't be more of a liar at the moment.
"I still feel bad."
"Aemond, it's okay. You should go now, I don't want to delay you any more with this hour," you say so the conversation is already over.
"No, just let me…" he insists, then lets out a long breath, "Look, I know you," he murmurs, looking at you sadly, "I know none of this is right. But I promise I will make it up to you," he assures you, "After all, my family's ball at Dragonstone is next weekend, remember?"
You frown, grateful for the change in conversation but still a little confused.
"I thought it wasn't happening this year."
"It has to be held every year, my mother would have a heart attack if it didn't happen and you know it."
You both laugh a little, while he watches you attentively without letting go of your hands, as well as you let go of his.
"So we'll go together?" you ask, not entirely convinced.
And at your question he is offended.
"Of course we'll go together. We go together every year."
"Yes, but now that you—
"I'm not taking Alys," he interrupts you and his words surprise you, "This ball belongs to both of us, it always has. And I'm not going to break the tradition."
And at his words, this time, genuinely, you can't help but place a small closed-mouth smile as you feel how again this little spark between him and you begins to revive little by little.
Also the hope, that everything will be again, even if it's just a little, like before.
"Also now your birthday is next," he says with a small smile, "I've already got your present, just to let you know."
And at this you put on a small smile.
"You're not supposed to tell me, dumbass."
He laughs.
"I wanted you to know," he says softly.
Then a brief, comfortable silence settles between the two of you, you both smile softly and all seems to be well again between you.
"Then start getting everything ready for the ball, okay?"
"All right," you nod, feeling happy.
"It will be amazing. You'll see."
You believe him.
You really do.
The ball on behalf of his family is a way to celebrate the success of the great company they run, as well as to have the possibility to form new partners or make better contracts. Since the friendship between you and Aemond began, he has invited you every year to be his escort and you have never let him down.
All the decorations are wonderful, the food too and eventually when the important people leave, that's when the real party starts for you and it's all great fun with Aemond's brothers who invite friends.
You thought that this time it wouldn't be like that since he has his girlfriend now and maybe he would want to take her instead of you, but how wrong you were.
And not too long after that it is your birthday, which is a very special day for you and Aemond, as every year he really makes you feel very special.
With those dates coming up and these words of promise, what could go wrong?
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