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missmeganlee · 9 months

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I re-read and (re)watched Red White and Royal Blue so let's talk about it

Grab your popcorn guys, gals, and non-binary pals I'm writing this on my laptop instead of my phone so you know it's gonna be a long one

To preface, Red White and Royal Blue is one of my favorite books of all time and it brought me so much joy to re-read it in preparation for the movie. Casey McQuiston's writing will never not make me laugh out loud. But it's because I love this book so much that I was suuuper apprehensive about the announcement of a movie adaptation. That being said I think the movie lived up to the expectations I had for it. I think I would’ve enjoyed the movie more had I not just read the book

TLDR: I thought that the movie felt like the bare bones of the book and lacked the emotional depth that the book had. 2/5 stars as a book to movie adaptation. 3/5 stars just looking at it as a movie and not an adaptation

Things I Liked About the Movie

ZAHRA! I loved her character in the movie so much. In terms of side characters she was definitely the one that felt most faithful to the source material to me. And I think every time she was in a scene she made it 100x better. She was definitely a scene stealer for me

The banter between Alex and Henry. ESPECIALLY in the montage of texts they send each other in the beginning of the movie, which was taken basically word for word from the book. I think it was important for the movie to get this right because their banter is basically the foundation of Alex and Henry's relationship.

I also really liked how they shot the text conversations and the turkey phone call

The confrontation at Kensington Palace. By far the best scene acting wise for both Taylor Zakhar Perez and Nicholas Galiztine

When they were both at the piano and Alex started playing "My Country tis of Thee" and the Henry joined in for the final cadence cause the melody is the same as "God Save the Queen" that musical symbolism was just *chefs kiss*

That one reporter who questioned Miguel about Alex's right to privacy

Alex reading One Last Stop when they’re on the hammock in Texas. Great little easter egg for fans of the book and Casey McQuiston

“Baby” “Alex?” 🥺🥺🥺

The New Year’s Eve party where it’s just them standing up while the crown dances

The interview montage. That was hilarious

The nervous tick Nicholas Galitzine added to his performance as henry where he twists his signet ring, and then when Alex twists it when he wears the ring *chef's kiss*

Things I Didn't Like About the Movie

The pacing felt off. Everything felt rushed to me. We got 3 sex scenes over the course of 10 minutes; that is so unnecessary. I don't think enough time was spent establishing our characters and their relationships to one another. In fact their entire romance felt rushed to me. especially in the first half of the movie. I don't think it was necessary to have their first hookup at the white house and then the scene immediately afterwards being their hookup at the polo match (as much as we all love that scene in the book). Without the added context of what Alex had to cancel on and talk with Zahra about to get to the polo match I felt that Alex's need to be with Henry again and that longing was lost. In the same vein I don't think the turkey scene had the same amount of weight in the book. It was played as thought they had spoken on the phone before which they hadn't, so that was a big step in their friendship and relationship, but I think that emotional impact was glossed over. And in general the emotional depth to Alex and henry's relationship felt lacking to me. I think more time should've been spent showing us their emotional intimacy rather than their physical intimacy cause Alex's almost "I love you" in Texas didn't feel earned

The characterization of a lot of the characters. Because I had literally just finished reading the book the day before I watched the movie everything is still extremely fresh in my mind and because of that a lot of the characters felt very one note to me. Like Bea is 1/8th of the character that she was in the book. They took away her spunk and made her into this very typical prim and proper princess of England. What happened to the girl who "accidentally" pours hot tea into her brother's lap to make him shut up? And my girl Nora... if I hadn't known from reading the book that her and Alex were best friends and had a previous romantic relationship I would've never known that was the nature of their relationship in the movie. The way she's painted in the movie is that she just works on the Claremont campaign team and just happens to be the granddaughter of the vice president. And yeah her and Alex are friends, but best friends? I just wasn't getting that vibe from them in the movie. And it also made me mad that on New Year’s Alex just kissed two random girls at the party instead of Nora which was their tradition. Also was it ever mentioned in the movie that Nora was bi? I think they conveniently skipped over that part in the scene when her and Alex are talking about Henry. If Nora's only purpose of being in the movie was to provide a little insight to Alex's very minor sexuality crisis and some emotional support I don't understand why that couldn't have been June instead. Last thing I'll say about characterization is that I wish they had balanced President Claremont with mom Ellen better. She had some good mom moments, but I really wish we had gotten the scene from the book (or a scene similar to it) where after the emails leak Ellen clears the conference room to just talk with Alex and check in with him and how he's feeling as a mom and not as president of the US. Which leads me to my next point

The lack of the white house trio and the super six. Not gonna rehash my thoughts on Nora, but I think it's insane that June was just completely eliminated from the movie narrative. Like she was one of Alex's main support systems in the book and like the whole magazine poster thing in the book was cause of her too. June knew Alex sometimes better than he knew himself and I think it was a shame that he didn't have someone like that to lean on in the movie. (Also the lack of gay subplot between her, Nora, and Pez. What a shame). Speaking of Pez, it really bothered me that they only called him Percy in the movie. Yeah that's technically his name, but it's like only people who don't know him call him that. If you know him like Henry and Alex are supposed, to you call him Pez. I missed the found family aspect of the story that came with the "super six" and I think both Henry and Alex could've used that support from the group of friends in the movie. It felt very much them against the world in the movie when they really had so many people supporting them (bringing it back to my need for more mom Elle scenes, like her "I'll back your play" line in the book).

Miguel. Ugh. This guy. The movie needed an antagonist so they decided to create an entire new character instead of making some nuanced commentary about how dirty (unfortunately) American politics can be with the inclusion of Rafael Luna. And I think the thing that pisses me off the most about Miguel is that they didn't even link him back to Jeffry Richard's campaign. And with that omission it just seems like Miguel leaked the emails to get back at Alex for not wanting to sleep with him again or as a guy who just wanted to break his first big story to be seen as a serious journalist. And I also think it reduces the severity of the crime Miguel committed by not linking it back to the Richard's campaign, which would be conspiracy against a sitting president and lead to a federal investigation (took that straight from the book lol) (maybe they felt it was hitting a little too close to home). And the fact that whoever leaked the emails faces. no repercussions in the movie or even any mention of potential consequences is criminal (no pun intended). Again I feel like it reduces the severity of the crime. AND HOW FUCKING DARE THEY GIVE MIGUEL THE "FUCKING EYE LASHES" LINE

The fact that Alex calls Henry baby in the movie exactly once and never calls him sweetheart CRIMINAL

Some of the dialogue felt very clunky to me "... and I'll bother you no longer." What was wrong with saying "and I won't bother you anymore"?

Lastly (though I'll probably have more to say after another watch), the quality of the production of the movie was lacking at some parts. I hated how obvious it was to me when one scene was shot at an irl location versus a scene shot using green screen or a fake background. And the lighting specifically didn't help with some of those scenes. Everything just seemed a bit too bright some times

Ha ha ha I actually thought of more but these are more minor complaints that these things were omitted from the movie. The fact that they referenced but didn’t do the whole PowerPoint scene. I really wanted to see Uma Thurman do that scene lol. The fact that “Your Song” by Elton John wasn’t included at all. THE FACT THAT ALEX DIDNT CALL HENRY AN OBTUSE FUCKING ASSHOLE. No mentions of Star Wars. WHY DID THE CUT THE CORNETTOS SCENE

Oh another minor thing (but I think it's kinda big). The house in Texas is supposed to be Spanish style not the modern looking thing we got in the movie. The symbolism of that house representing a core part of Alex was just poof gone

#red white & royal blue #red white and royal blue movie #red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie

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romanphoenix · 2 months

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[male, he/him] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [ROMAN PHOENIX]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [NICHOLAS GALITZINE]. You must be the [TWENTY-EIGHT] year old [ACTOR]. Word is you’re [OUT-GOING] but can also be a bit [CUNNING] and your favorite song is [SELF SABATOGE BY WATERPARKS]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [CRYSTAL COVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it! [constantine, 25+, EST, they/them] ( @aurorabayaesthetic )

wanted connections | full navi | pinterest | full bio -- the group

threads - visuals - musings - aesthetics - likes

— BASICS ☆

full name:; roman henry joel phoenix

nicknames:; rome, ro

gender:; cis male

pronouns:; he/him

sexual preference:; bisexual (leans more toward men)

birthdate & age:; nov. 25th, aged twenty-eight years

zodiac sign:; sagittarius (archer)

spouse / lover:; none currently

— APPEARANCES ☆

face & voice claim:; nicholas galitzine

height:; 6′1″

eyes:; hazel green

hair:; naturally blonde, sometimes dyes brown or black (currently dark brown)

body art:; a left ear piercing on his earlobe and occasionally an industrial bar, also in his left ear

other distinguishing features:; a mole on the right side of his face, above his lip and another on the right side of his chin

fashion sense:; classic, casual, comfy, sometimes proper and fancy and almost always wearing a ring on every finger

body type:; generally toned and healthy looking

— PERSONALITY ☆

traits:; tough, cunning, sassy, hard-working, confident, introverted, sarcastic, loyal, aggressive, self-destructive, out-going -- sweet, caring, funny, loveable

fears:; expressing his feelings and being rejects

hobbies:; writing, partying, music, photography, sometimes reading

skills:; singing, playing various instruments (guitar, piano), writing songs and poems, good in the bedroom

quirks:; bites and licks lip when bored or nervous or plays with his jewellery when nervous or lost in thought

— FAMILY ☆

mother:; mrs. phoneix

father:; mr. phoenix

siblings:; a younger sister named ashleigh

children:; none

pets:; none

— FAVOURITES ☆

ice cream flavour:; strawberry

food:; italian food, cinnamon rolls, breakfast food

time of the day / night:; nighttime

season:; spring time

holiday:; new years

animal:; snakes, wolves and foxes

colour:; black & red

scent:; lavender

musician/band:; david bowie, queen

— OTHER ☆

education:; he's done a few years of uni for digital arts but did nothing with it

bad habits:; drinking, smoking, weed and vapes from time to time

a cherished item:; his skull rings on his ring fingers

relationship role:; dominate with woman - with men he tries to dominate but will easily submit, he loves being dominated. he will dominate in some cases however

random fun fact:; he doesn't wear underwear

— BIOGRAPHY ☆

—- B R E I F B A C K G R O U N D —-

trigger warnings ; mentions of drug abuse and alcohol abuse.

roman henry joel phoenix was born to two not so loving parents along with a younger sister named ashleigh in london, england. growing up started fine, as roman didn't really know better, that was up until his teen years in which then everything changed. as a teenager, roman learned his parents wanted him to take over the family business and refused to let him out of it. the young boy, however, wasn't at all interested, all he wanted to do originally was make music. he wanted to be a musician as he always loved writing poems and short stories and managed to make what he thought was beautiful music out of it. not to mention he realized his parents didn't really treat him the best, but having his little sister they treated her like an angel.

as soon as he turned sixteen, roman started to rebel against his parents, spending two years being nothing but trouble for them, and moving in with his aunt. during this time he got a few tattoos across his arms and one on his chest, both his ears pierced (earlobes and industrial bars), his tongue pierced, started wearing all his rings and really experimented with his sexuality and just live his best life. he first got a girlfriend at fifteen but they broke up shortly after he turned sixteen and started to change (due to his rebelling against his parents and trying to find himself more). roman also fell into the wrong crowd of people and got into drugs and alcohol and not being the most careful at a party at eighteen for graduation, roman found himself in the hospital.

after this time he cut out a lot of his bad habits (still drinking from time to time and deals with smoking on and off) and removing all the piercings in his right ear and tongue as well as removing all his tattoos. this had roman push to get into music and managing to release a single and left his aunt's home, getting his own apartment. during his time cleaning up he met a guy he'd date for a couple years before they parted ways due to wanting different things. this is when roman realized, he wasn't ready to settle down. he ended up getting a record deal and moved out to los angeles, california in the hopes to make an album but things didn't work out and he fell into a bit of a depression feeling he wasn't as good as he once thought at music, falling into bad habits again but not as bad as before.

roman did met a guy during his tries at music, who also heard his single and offered him a chance at acting. so he left his music dreams behind to put his all into acting and doing pretty well for himself with a couple good films and a show under his belt already. finally he started to really feel proud of himself. despite all of this, he still holds out the dream of being a successful musician as well. music always have a place in his heart and in his free time, he's always working on new music whenever he can, while also still enjoying and giving his all to acting and treating each role as his own and finding parts of himself in each character he brings to life.

—- C U R R E N T L Y —-

roman still struggles with sleeping around and flirting, despite really wanting to find someone to settle down with and consider maybe a family one day. he's just scared he's unloveable and work makes him harder to commit to. he's also since moved out to aurora bay, california living his best life in the crystal cove area for the past couple years (upon march 2024). his got zero contact or desire to connect his family or much of his life back home, except him two exes who became close friends after and support his career and hope he one day finds love and lets himself love and be loved. he also still does music as more a hobby, not sure about releasing much more yet as he's unsure he can handle being dropped again thinking he wasn't good enough when the deal fell through.

[ will try to update as time goes on ]

#aurorabay.intro #about ; meet roman phoenix #tw drug abuse #tw alcohol abuse

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littlefreya · 3 years

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Henry's reaction to finding out GF's house is haunted.

Summary: Henry’s friend invites him over to watch a horror film on Halloween, problem is he is madly in love with her.

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (3rd person, no description)

Warnings: RPF, fluff, romantic goo, friends to lovers or rather idiots to lovers, brief mentions of alcohol and Henry’s green hoodie p0rn.

Words: 1.6K

A/N: So I had to take it to the “friends to lovers” lane, also I will need all the fluff after what I am about to post tomorrow :|! Divider by @firefly-graphics. Beta’d by my beautiful @agniavateira . Also FYI my house is totally haunted.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed.

Haunted Houses

All Hallow's Eve was Henry’s favourite time of the year. The spicy autumn air was thickly shrouded by magic. Spooky tales and plastic spiders inhabited drapes of thin cotton tendrils and fat pumpkins carved with scary faces would sit on his doorstep to welcome him home or bid him farewell on his way out.

Per tradition, he would rally close friends at midnight for a horror flick and pineapple-anchovy pizza; often a bottle of rum would be added to the party. However, this Halloween fell on a bittersweet period, as his friends grew too old for said spooky gatherings. Starting new families of their own, they had no time to indulge him.

All save for her, who just like him was still somehow single.

How bad would it be to spend the evening just the two of them... alone? Ignoring the fact that it was enough to see her name flicker on the screen of his phone for pure warmth to enkindle in his chest. He thought about her often before he fell asleep and when he woke up; and by often, he meant every single day since he met her.

Though she didn’t think much of him as anything other than a friend she loved to banter with - he presumed. And of course she loved Kal, possibly more than she cared for him. Yet, Henry did what he did best: bury his emotions into a little pit he dug in the graveyard of his mind.

"Heh!” Henry croaked as the door opened. His sapphires ensnared the veils of black that cloaked her, preserving the sight of silk laces tied tightly at her torso in what seemed like a gothic medieval gown.

“I see you took off your costume for the evening."

She narrowed her eyes but only to observe his attire carefully: that same green hoodie and a pair of worn jeans that complimented his… asset.

She wanted to etch her fingers around the thick fabric and have a whiff of this hoodie, or perhaps just steal it and wear it forever and a day.

"First of all, it is called The Witching Hour so I must dress properly. Secondly - where is your costume, Cavill?" she crossed her arms together, looking rather displeased.

“I’m dressed as a homicidal maniac, we look like everybody else does.”

Snorting, she tilted her head, unimpressed. “You totally just stole this joke from Wednesday Addams.”

Henry shrugged and pressed his lips to a thin line. One of his foolish expressive gestures. It made her feel less nervous to which she was thankful. When she suggested they’d hang out despite them being the only two, she didn’t think much of the consequences of being all alone with the man who inhabited her mind and never paid rent. Everything about Henry made her feverish, but it was always easy when others accompanied them. The awkward anxiety of having to entertain him wasn’t her job, not up till now…

Oh, god! What if they had nothing to talk about? What if their playful chemistry was always influenced by the presence of other people?

Beads of sweat began to form below her breasts when Henry shoved a bottle of rum into her hand and then leaned in to steal a casual kiss from her cheek. She smiled with a friendly huff in return, stifling the shiver that coursed through her muscles while he welcomed himself into her home.

Striding forward, he peered at the Halloween decorations she hung across the walls and inhaled deeply - the scent of maple and buttery chestnuts filled the cosy little house, a scent that he could easily get intoxicated with.

It was what she smelled like and here he was, drowning in its excess.

After a quick observation, he turned to look at her, holding his hands clasped behind his back. She smiled awkwardly in return and then averted her gaze, becoming fascinated by the bottle he brought.

‘There it is,’ Henry mused, ‘that embarrassing silence, there is so much to tell her, but she probably… no! She definitely finds me boring.’

This Halloween celebration would probably be the last and it was all sorts of disastrous.

Trying to overcome the silence, he cleared his throat and reached a hand to scratch his curly mane. “So what movie are we watching?”

“Movie?” she asked confused and then quickly corrected, “Oh yes, umm... The Exorcist.”

“Good, love me some green vomit.” his eyes followed carefully as she waltzed into the small open kitchen, placing the rum on the counter and then returning with a large bowl that made his nostrils flare.

“Green vomit goes extremely well with caramelised popcorn,” she suggested and popped a golden flake of popcorn into her mouth.

“Sweet-salty popcorn? I love you!” Henry groaned and snatched the bowl right away. It was only when his mouth was stuffed that he realised what words he just used.

But she didn’t seem to react, thankfully. Instead, she brushed a hand over her many skirts and pointed toward the living room.

Hugging the bowl, Henry strode behind her, entering the dimly lit living room. The traditional pizza was already laid on the wooden coffee table, along with a few bottles of Guinness.

Her couch was small, only fit for a couple. And Henry, being a hulking man, took most of the space. Their thighs immediately ground into one another’s, yet they both pretended as if they hadn't noticed the hot tingle running beneath the layers of clothing.

“I have to warn you about something,” she uttered, hoping that the tremor she suddenly felt in her body was not visible to him.

Henry crooked his eyebrow, looking at the ominous glare she offered.

“My house is totally haunted.”

Not waiting for his answer, she grabbed the remote and pressed play. Henry chuckled at her silly joke, waiting for her to break character but she only peered at the screen.

“Nice try, I am not scared of that stuff.” He shifted in his seat slightly, lifting his lengthy arm and spreading it on the headrest right behind her. Immediately, he regretted this semi-possessive masculine gesture, but it was too late to pull it away.

Her instincts screamed to snuggle into him yet she held back. “Don’t believe me, but I am not making this up,” she insisted, “Every night around 3 am, I hear scratching from within the walls and these thuds from the ceiling, and then one night… I woke up the door creaking.”

Henry glanced at her quietly for a long moment, watching the reflection from the screen gyrating over her glossy irises and then snorted. He leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed two beers, uncorking them with the help of his pinky ring and then offering her one of the bottles.

“I think you have rats.”

“Rats who make heavy thuds and open bedroom doors?”

“Yup, a big fat randy rat.” he teased. “We’ll take a look at your bedroom later, but I promise you, there are no such things as ghosts.”

‘We’ll take a look in your bedroom? Great…’ He berated himself. At this point, he just wanted to sigh and shake his head.

She peered at him oddly, her throat clenching a tad before she turned her head back to the movie with a mumble, “It’s not a ghost, it’s a demon.”

Within a few minutes they grew quiet, deciding to focus on the movie with the occasional dry jokes and bad puns from Henry as an attempt to overcome his anxiety. Outside the window, thunder rumbled in the distance and shy raindrops lightly kissed the glass, tinted with the many vague shades of lights coming from the street.

Now and then, Henry shifted in his seat, his meaty thigh further grinding into her leg which stirred her blood to the point of electric spasms. She lightly pushed against him, pretending it’s by accident when truthfully, she wanted to exploit every second of being in his proximity. Had she any guts, she would turn to kiss him, but the thought alone made her heart clench in fear.

She threw him a glance, and their eyes met. Henry offered a kind grin, avoiding staring at her lips. She smiled back coyly, her heartbeat accelerating with anticipation when the possessed girl in the movie made a horrifying groan that ruined the moment.

And then the room suddenly was swallowed in darkness, followed by a strong clap of thunder that tore open the sky.

In the scant moment of chaos, he heard a scream and then the light came back as if nothing happened, aside from the fact that she was now in his arms, with her legs straddling his waist, and her fingers clutching the collar of his hoodie.

Henry was unsure how and when his hand found itself latched to the small of her back, only that he didn’t want to let go. They exchanged bemused glances and swallowed the dryness parching their throats.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, “I got scared…”

Embarrassed to the point of tears, she attempted to climb off, wanting nothing more than to run to the bathroom and cry in hiding, when Henry sent a hand to stroke her temple and gently brushed his fingers behind her ear.

“Stay,” he insisted, squeezing into her lower back as if to prevent her from escaping.

Her lips parted slowly, the same golden hue that suffused the living room split into her eyes, beaming even brighter as he continued to caress her face before bringing her closer to graze her lips with his.

Halloween was, without a doubt, his favourite.

Tagging: @the-soot-sprite @henrythickcavill because they asked to be tagged in these. <3

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x ofc

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mutigold · 3 years

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∞ teacher’s pet — i.n.

summary: in which the top student fails a test and gets extra help from his favorite professor.

pairing: student!jeongin x teacher!reader

genre: college!au

warning: sub!jeongin, dom!reader, pet play, noona kink, exhibitionism, handjob, ear licking, humiliation, quirofilia, seduction, he still has his braces.

word count: 1.9k

authors note: i really don’t know where this idea came from, but all i know is subby jeongin = 🤤. thank you for supporting me! watching people like my little writings really make my day.. hope y’all enjoy this <3. stream “Going Dumb”!

“would anyone like to explain what it means to be dependent on an organism?”

jeongin’s eyes concentrated on you, as he listened to your voice encompassing the leveled platform. today’s lecture was based on the living organisms in the world and you seemed to be determined for everyone to learn the curriculum.

however, jeongin could not focus on anything except your figure. you were wearing a white skin-tight turtleneck and black formal pants that emphasize your ass. all topped off with a large suit jacket and black louis vuitton heels.

it overall made his heart jump for joy just enjoying the view.

he thought about how those heels would look wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you; screaming his name. or maybe how your tiny hand would slip around his throat as he begs for your come.

“mr. yang?”

jeongin quickly snaps out of his trance to hear you calling his name. and not in the way he wanted.

you looked up at him with sad eyes, upset at him for not paying attention to your favorite lesson. “what’s going through that head yours? is it more important than organisms?”

he quickly fixed his posture, shaking his head rapidly, and responded with, “n—no, i’m sorry noona. i just was thinking too hard about something. i’ll promise to listen from now on.”

you hummed with caution, continuing the biological lecture. the student sighs gratefully for you letting him go off easily and tries to at least take some notes.

“yo, i.n. you okay?” a familiar voice whispered.

jeongin turns to see his two close friends, seungmin and felix, staring down at him in question. “yeah, you seem a little off today.”

confirming he says, “uh. y—yeah; i’m okay.”

“mhmm. okay with staring professor y/n down huh?” felix smirks.

the heat on i.n. 's cheeks becomes noticeable when hearing about his staring. he then tries to ignore the statement by writing his name and the current date in his notebook.

“leave him alone felix. he’s just probably having some problems with the lesson; you should perhaps ask noona for help.” seungmin tries to intervene.

“yeah; i mean, maybe noona can also help you with other problems. if you know what i mean.” felix grins bumping jeongin’s arm.

“f—felix!”

“boys?! care to tell us what is so interesting other than my lesson?” your voice suddenly booms throughout the room. jeongin jumps at your tone and begins to apologize again once making you soften.

“that’s alright, but please pay attention. oh, and jeongin, stay after class for a few minutes to speak with me.”

he didn’t know what to think at that moment; with felix oohing in one of his ears and seungmin trying to shush him in his other or the fact that you wanted to talk to privately.

alone, with no one around, made his mind officially shut down.

“you wanted to speak with me noona?”

you shifted around to see jeongin’s stiff form; then took note of how nervous he looked and gave him a light smile. “hey, kiddo. i just wanted to see how you were doing lately.” you wished to see some type of relief release through him.

but unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

he still looked kind of anxious to speak with you, letting you know how intimidating you seemed. “hey it’s all good, you're not in trouble or anything, i promise. i’ve noticed how you’ve been acting recently in my class and how your scores dropped a little,” you reassured.

“ai! i’m so sorry noona!”

you giggle at the student’s consistent apologies. in your mind, you thought how cute he was; like a puppy aching to gain approval from its owner.

maybe you could make him as your puppy and work hard for that admiration.

immediately, you shake your head from the naughty images. ever since the semester started a few months ago, your thoughts almost ran around yang jeongin.

how his pretty smile, concealed by clear braces, shined at your speaking, how his crescent-shaped eyes followed your every move; making you feel sexy, how large and veiny his arms grew over time within the season, etc.

“that’s alright, jeongin. i just want you to feel comfortable in my lectures. how about this, you and i have a session later this evening to cover the material for the next exam. what do you think pup’?” you offering, accidentally calling him by the pet name you gave him.

after catching the tiny nickname, jeongin clumsy drops his possessions while feeling something swell in his pants. he begins to overthink the word. pup’? why did that sound so nice coming out of your mouth? and how was he gonna hide the fact that his dick got hard in the middle of their conversation?

“i–i’m sorry!”

“oh! no worries hun! here; let noona help you out.”

you instantly proceeded over, bent down, and gathered i.n.’s school objects. starting with some of his blue pens, his macbook, and then his green two-subject notebook. “n–noona! i got the notebook, it’s okay.” jeongin stuttered.

it was almost like he was trying hard to hide something in the notebook, and suddenly it all made sense as it opened to the front page.

yang y/n. it was his surname combined with your first name.

it seemed as if time swiftly froze with silence when discovering the secret. however, it didn’t bother you essentially much as jeongin thought it would have had. “aw, pup’, this is cute. yang y/n has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

the air that was in jeongin’s lungs properly stopped working when distinguishing how seductive your tone became. “i–i..”

“relax a lil’ pup’. listen, will you promise to meet me later this eveningfor some tutoring. i think you could really use it. plus if you’re good–”

you shifted closer to the student’s ear lobe and whispered, “–noona could give you a reward.”

jeongin swore he felt some pre-cum drip down from his pants. “y–yes, noona.” he swallowed trying to moist his dry throat, then jumped moaning in pleasure when your small hand gripped around his erection.

“good. see you then, pup’.”

a few hours later, jeongin ends up at the university’s public library, not knowing what to expect. though, he did make sure to be ready for any possible situation. what did you mean by rewarding him? did you feel the same way he did?

you must have since you did touch his swollen cock during your conversation. or maybe it was just his imagination?

jeongin sighs restlessly thinking of the concept while waiting for your arrival. that soon ends as he hears your alluring voice greet out, “hiya pup’! ready for our lesson?”

he peers up from the library’s table to see you wearing informal clothing. a tight crew neck that reveals your smooth arms extending down to red-painted nails and large breasts bouncing with every step you take.

“ah! i hope you weren’t waiting too long, i got held up in traffic.”

“t–that’s okay noona! i just got here.”

you smile at his nervousness, now acknowledging where it came from, and sat down in the hard chair right next to him. “good, we can get started. i hope you’re ready,” you whispered, feeling an urge to dominate.

jeongin gulps recognizing a certain excitement coming from his pants within hearing your tone and replies with, “r–ready?”

“so, what does adaptation consist of?”

jeongin couldn’t comprehend what you were saying being he focused on the way your glossed-up lips looked. the way he could imagine it wrapped around cock or it traveling up and down the side of his neck molding kisses; it worked him to the point where he was solid hard.

“pup’, what is going through that mind of yours?”

“s–sorry. it’s just, i guess this lesson isn’t grasping in my head yet.” he tries to explain not wanting to upset you.

however, instead of upsetting you, your colored eyes just darken. “oh! i have any idea; remember when i said i would reward you if do good–”

jeongin nods excitedly, making you giggle.

“–well, i know you understand the concept of this chapter. so to push you a little more, i’ll ask you a question and if you get it right, that little cock of yours will get to come.”

the student freezes up at your approach, thinking it was a dream too good to be true. “w-wait what?”

“what is the definition of homeostasis?”

“i, uh, i think it's an organism's constant adjustment to maintain stable conditions in itself?”

you reached under the table discreetly and unbuttoned the pants on jeongin grasping his swollen cock. “o-oh my god, noona!”

“shh, pup’. you gotta be quiet for me; now onto the next question. who created the biogenesis theory?”

jeongin’s breath became too much for him to handle feeling the pre-cum drip from his blood-filled tip. “n–noona, please.”

“come on puppy, tell me the answer or i stop.”

his mind starts to rush trying to find the answer before you let him go. it took him a couple of seconds, but once he got it, he hurried to speak. “henry charlton bastain!”

“good puppy.” your tiny hand moves faster, satisfied with the statement. you felt his cock throbbing with every stroke you took. like jeongin, you dreamt of this same exact moment. you wanted to control the poor student every time he walked through your room, when he made eye contact with you, or even when his plump bottom lip was bitten from his teeth.

and finally, it was happening.

“oh, who’s a good puppy for noona?”

“m-me! i am noona.”

“that’s right pup’. next question, what are the five steps to the scientific method?”

i.n.’s vein from his cock popped out sensing the rubbing moving faster than before. “i only know four noona!”

“too bad, i wanted five or i slow down.” you coldly demand.

jeongin began to try to think hard on the five steps letting the sensation run through his body. “o-okay. it’s defining the problem, making a hypothesis, testing it, analyzing the results… then..”

your hand slows at his hesitation. “give me the last one puppy.”

“oh! noona, don’t stop! i–i. is it d–drawing the conclusions?”

“good puppy!”

his cock grows bigger when your finger grips at the base. then, you painted nails lightly scratch at his tight balls. “oh! noonaaa. that feels sooo goood. pleaseee.”

“continue to answer like a good pup’ then i’ll keep going.”

soon after the next few questions, jeongin sits near his breaking point. “nooonnnaaa! please!”

“grab your textbook and hold it up.”

i.n. clutches the hard-covered biology book to cover both you and him from public eyes. suddenly, you lower yourself to his lips, deeply kissing him with tongue, and wander towards his earlobe. “one more question, pup’. what does stimulus mean?”

“uh! noona! please let me come! make your puppy come!” he moans a little too loud.

“shh. answer the question, then i’ll let you come.”

“s-stimulus? it m-means anything an organism responds to.”

you then move your head to spit down to moist his penis. “good puppy! getting your small cock rubbed in front of everyone like a little slut.” you cup the back of his neck feeling the shivers release through him.

“you can come pup’, come for noona.”

jeongin then lets go, coming hard in your hand. “o-oh! thank you, thank you noona!”

after guiding him to his high, you let go of him and licked the white, sticky substance from your hand.

“good puppy. i’m sure you’ll be ready for that next exam.”

#stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz jeongin #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x stay #skz x y/n #skz x you #smut #sub!idol #sub!skz #sub!jeongin #dom!reader #kpop #kpop smut

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Interviews - Henry Cavill x wife/actress reader

Summary: You and Henry have been married for a couple years now, and when you’re both part of the Witcher cast, fun interviews are to be had.

Warning: nothing but a good time, btw I’ve never written anything like this so I hope it’s good enough that I might feel motivated to write more

-Readers Witcher character is loosely based off my Geralt fic from here (just a little self promotion), but in this case you play a full vampire in this Witcher universe

The days have been long and grueling, filming hours upon hours of stunts and regular acting had taken its toll. Not to mention the countless times in hair and make up paired with costume changes and traveling to film on certain locations.

To say being apart of Netflix’s The Witcher was full of tiring days and some accidental bruises would be a huge understatement. But none of that mattered, nor did you bother to complain when through the thick and thin of it all did you have Henry with you along the way. And your favorite big slobbery bear, Kal whenever he was allowed on set.

Fortunately for you in the beginning of all the craziness, the casting and writers had wanted you specifically for the part of Y/C/N in the new series before Henry even auditioned for the role of Geralt, that was soon given to him after you accepted your fresh role of vampiric heroine.

It was ironically strange in a good way, you had watched your dork of a husband play the Witcher: Wild Hunt a few times before, eventually learning of what Geralt of Rivia was, who Y/C/N was in the story, who Yennefer and Ciri were, Tris and even Jaskier.

Who would have thought that you’d finally get to snag a role side by side with Henry in quite literally one of the most fantastic shows you’ve ever heard of. You didn’t even need to see the show yet to know how well it was most likely to be reviewed. Being a key character in the grand storyline was enough to convince you of how amazing it would most certainly turn out in the finished product.

And after all was said and done, you couldn’t believe how well loved and popular the show truly became in the following months after shooting and its eventual release onto Netflix. The after parties and cast celebrations truly made you blessedly grateful for pulling through to the vary end.

Then again you had your mans Henry by your side every step of the way. He was your rock and you were most definitely his. You know life on set would have been far less entertaining and dreadfully long if not for the lovely company of your dear Witcher, Henry. And so far after the fact, you and a good portion of the cast have been placed in random interviews for the majority of the day.

Reason being, The Witcher has at long last finally premiered and as per usual the people and media live for those cast interviews that always reveal some interesting events. So far this morning you’ve done some interviews with Anya that have gone perfectly fine since the two of you seem to click so well.

Also it helps ease the anxiety of your fellow newer cast mates to the world of continuous interviews with an experienced veteran actor like yourself, who’s gone round the ring more times then you can count. Though you can’t help but wonder how Henry’s doing, considering you’ve been separated since the sessions began at 10am, you’ve had lunch and now it’s about 1 in the afternoon with more hours to go.

Luckily for you, you’ve just been informed of another interview with the man of the hour himself. Saying your goodbyes and well wishes to your fellow cast mates, you stand and follow the guide into the advised place. Aka some really nice hotel room that’s been done up real nice for efficient interviewing, complete with the Witcher insignia on a large background poster and three chairs that happen to look rather comfy.

The camera and sound people nod in acknowledgment as you walk in, you nod back no doubt making their day with your friendliness and adorable smile that quite literally lights up a room. Soon you spot the bubbly yet nervous interviewee who instantly welcomes you into her space like you’re an old friend.

You sit, a bit confused as to where your partner happens to be at the moment, the interviewer, Lauren makes small talk before a door opens and her big bright doe eyes go wide in nervous excitement. A telling smile upon her face as she shifts in her chair before looking back to you again with a happy grin.

Henry says a quick hello to the behind the scenes crew before waving to Lauren, you smirk while watching him get comfortable next to you, “Well, well, well. Get lost on your way up, you know they have guides for a reason.” You tease as he chuckles at your humorous jab, relieved to see you again after a couple hours apart.

“Traffic.” He quips with a shrug.

“Uh huh.” You mutter with a shake of your head before drawing your attention back to Laura, “Can’t take him anywhere I swear, he does this all the time.”

She laughs as Henry pretends to gasp at your teasing, you chuckle along with them before she finally collects herself, “Well, welcome back to London. It’s fantastic to have you both in town once again, and your big beautiful faces all over Leicester Square.”

You both laugh, “Right.” Says Henry, “I guess we do look pretty cool.”

“Hell yeah, I mean where else can I see myself with a giant sword on a building? And anyways look at this beautiful mug,” You say gently squeezing Henry’s cheeks in your hand, “he’s literally killing it out there.” They laugh as you give Hen another playful squeeze before letting go and setting your arm against the chairs cushioned armrest.

“Alight let’s start.” She says enthusiastically before glancing down at her cards then back up to you and Henry. Then into one of the two the cameras, “Hi I’m Lauren from Entertainment Weekly and today we’re here with the two stars of Netflix’s The Witcher.” She says enthusiastically while giving a nod to you two, indicating that the camera is now focused on you both, “Henry Cavill and Y/N Cavill.”

You both smile in acknowledgment as Henry gives a slight nod, “How you doing?”

“I’m great,” She beams, “So, I’ll get right into it, what do you like most about the story? What really drew you into the script that made you say, yes this is going to be awesome?”

Slapping a hand against Henry’s muscular leg, you hum, “I’ll let Hen take this one he’s a real expert on the linguistics of the whole show.”

“Thanks Y/N/N.” Replies Henry, bemused that you’re making him take the first question.

You nod to him knowingly with a smirk, “Of course.” Knowing how much he loves to talk about the show and also because you’d rather have him use his energy to talk about it then do that yourself. Priorities, right, though in your defense it’s been a long day.

“Well I absolutely love the games and the books themselves are phenomenal works of literature.” He explains, his face glowing with that usual glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “The story and the world of the Witcher is just so rich and full of potential that when I signed on for the show, I immediately knew it would be amazing, no doubt.”

You lean into the arm of you chair, “And of course I was there so that’s always a bonus.”

“That too.” He smiles adorably, “That too of course.”

Lauren smiles, “Great. So, what was it like working together, how was it having your characters interact with one another?”

You smile, setting a hand against Henry’s forearm, “This guy right here.” You deadpan before waving him off dramatically, “So annoying, my god he whined all the time and he was such a drama queen dear lord so ugh....” You start cackling before you can even finish the sentence causing Henry to loose it as well and with that the interviewer.

Shaking your head you rest your hand against his shoulder, “I joke, he was a gem to work with as usual...I mean I feel incredibly blessed to be able to act alongside my husband for months and months every single day. It’s a rarity in this line of work and I’m grateful to have shared this experience...and I guess more so this whole adventure with him as well.”

The interviewer aww’s as Henry tilts his head to lean into your hand that’s still resting atop his shoulder before pulling away just as quickly, the intimate sentiment not going unnoticed by you or Lauren who looks to be enjoying your loving yet calm energy with one another. “That’s so sweet, what about you Henry?”

“Oh yes absolutely,” Agrees Henry to your recent statement, “not only did I have her by my side through it all but the dynamic of our characters interacting together was so fun to shoot. I think the audience will really be able to see their relationship grow on screen into something strong and beautiful like in the books.”

Slow clapping you give him a curt nod of approval, “Well said.”

Lauren smirks, “Seems like it. Well, I was able to catch the premier yesterday and I gotta say...it was fantastic! I couldn’t believe how diffident the two of you looked from how you are now.” She gushes enthusiastically.

The corners of Henry’s lips curl into a proud smile for the fellow crew of the Witcher’s, “Oh that’s great then, honestly we gotta give all the props to the costume and makeup team, they’re so talented and know how to make us look like real badasses.” He adds.

You nod in agreement before grinning at a positive memory of your first interaction with Henry as Geralt, “Oh for sure, I remember during the early stages of production when our characters met each other for the first time, before this we came to set together but went separate ways to shoot our own stuff in the meantime so I never got a real look at him.” You recall with a bright smile as Henry watches your every move, beaming just the same.

“It was so funny, I was in the tent with Freya Allen, the wonderful girl who plays Ciri, and then suddenly her eyes got all big and nervous and I was like, that’s not me right? Something weird didn’t just happen with my costume? And then I turned around to find this man, wig on, face a mess, and his eyes looked so fearsome and different...it was a bit startling.” You say with a chuckle, “I clearly wasn’t expecting to see Geralt right then and there. He just looked so unlike Henry.”

“Yeah, I was almost hurt.” Laughs Henry, “She had to like squint and make sure it was me.”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug, “He had some real creepy looking colored contacts, yunno?”

Henry fake scoffs, “You’re one to talk, I mean when I first say her, Y/N’s eyes were red and she had fake blood spattered all over her face and shirt. Oh, and not to mention those fangs they put on your teeth...we probably traumatized poor Freya that day.”

“Oh shit you’re right!” You exclaim with a snort of concealed laughter, “God I completely forgot about how I looked...now since I think about it, I did that a lot too. I would just walk up to people and be completely oblivious as to what kind of nightmare I looked like, honestly I might have scared one of our producers a couple of times.” You add with a half nervous laugh, it’s true, you did scare some of the crew unintentionally. Most of the time.

Lauren lightly chuckles, “That sounds like you were quite the sight to see then.” She says before glancing back down at her notes, “Alright I have’ta ask, is there anything that you two took home with you from set?”

“Besides Henry every night,” He holds back a laugh while covering his mouth as you nonchalantly continue, “Uh, yes actually I got to take home Y/C/N’s wolf ring that I loved so much and just thought was the coolist thing ever and....uh, I might have stolen some socks too.”

“So that’s why after filming the amount of socks of yours I had to fold increased?” Wonders Henry with a surprised snort of realization.

Turning your head to give him a “no shit” kinda look, you look back at Lauren, pointing your thumb at Henry, “Master sleuth right here, but hey, he folds my laundry.”

“Aw that’s great.” Adds Lauren with a smile before turning her attention to Henry, “What about you Henry? Take anything from set?”

“More then Y/N did actually...”

“He just about took the whole makeup trailer most nights, I swear.”

Henry chuckles, “That. Is true.” He agrees with a nod, “Interesting enough, at home I’ve got Geralt’s armor hung up in our living room and a multitude of other nicknacks that I’ve collected during filming.” He adds, glancing over to you, “So uh, yeah, we were fairly lucky to be able to snag what we could.”

Lauren smiles, absentmindedly shuffling her cards, “That’s awesome to have such special memorabilia, you guys really are fortunate.” She adds before reading off from another card, “Alright you two, care to play a game called guess the image? Witcher style.”

Your face perks up at this, you’re a sucker for interview games and Henry knows it, “Are you reading my mind or something, I have been waiting all day for someone to ask about playing a game.” You gush rather enthusiastically.

He smiles at your adorableness and how excited you’ve just become, Lauren grins, happy that her suggestion has been so well received, “Okay so how it works is, I’ll show you an image on my iPad and then you have to guess who or what I’m showing you.”

“Oh, cool I’ve heard of this,” You reply, turning to Henry with a smirk, “Loser has to clean Kal’s yard poop for a week.”

Rolling his gorgeous blue eyes he chuckles, “You’re on.”

“Alright, the stakes are high, you two ready?” Beams Lauren, holding her iPad to her chest as she awaits an answer.

“Yes, I’m ready to kick his ass.” You quip, leaning an arm against your chair while Henry does about the same, though he does his best to contain his laughter.

“Okay, first image.” She holds up the device to show some sort of weird golden thing, it’s shiny and hard, worst part is that you’re not entirely sure what the hell it could be.

Sensing your confusion Henry nudges your shoulder, though you ignore it before he smartly answers, “Oh, is that...Renfri’s brooch?” Little shit knows exactly what that is, of course he does.

Lauren claps, “Correct.” Zooming out of the image to show the full picture of the golden brooch, “Right on, that’s one point for Mr. Cavill.”

You scoff playfully, “Beginners luck.” While Henry side eyes you with a humorous grin upon his plush lips, he nudges your arm, “I’m going to really enjoy not cleaning up Kal’s grass turds for awhile.” He mutters lightheartedly, though you know deep down he’s being serious, no way is he going to win this, you think. You won’t have it, hopefully the next few pictures aren’t as difficult, Kal duty is not fun by any means.

“Shut up.” You grumble with a dismissive wave of your hand, though just teasing of course.

“Okay next image.” This time the blurred photo looks much more familiar, soon it clicks as to what the obscured blurriness actually is, yes!

“Got it! Anya’s er I guess Yennefer’s dress from the fight at Sodden.” Lauren giggles, zooming the image out to reveal Yennefer in her tasseled blue and purple dress from the battle at Sodden Hill. “I’m amazing I know.” You boast at Henry with a casual little bow in your seat.

“It’s the second question.” He deadpans, eyes crinkling in amusement as you shake your head at him.

“Pffff get outta here.” You mutter back, gently pushing his arm off of your chairs armrest and setting yours in its place while he gives you a fake shocked expression.

In turn you can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips, so instead of saying some sassy remark that would no doubt get a reaction out of him, you turn your attention back over to Lauren who’s looking over her notes again.

“Fantastic,” She says, glancing back up at you and Henry, “you’re both tied with one point each. Alright, anyone know what this is?” She asks showing something red and fuzzy, a bit of dirty skin showing from one corner but with The Witcher this bloody image could literally be anything.

The both of you squint, puzzled as to what this could be, “Y/N you got any ideas.” Wonders Henry, brows furrowed as his face contorts into deep concentrated thought.

Raising a brow, you hum, “If I knew I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles.

Lauren smiles, “Any guesses?”

After a few concentrated moments, Henry shrugs in defeat, “I’m stumped.” He admits as you study the image harder, mind racing to put the pieces together as to what the hell you’re looking at.

“No, I think I might know this....erm is it...me?” You wonder, voice raising in question, hoping to be correct about this or face the teasing of Henry.

Lauren quickly zooms out of the obscured image, “It is!” She says excitedly, revealing the picture of you from your characters debut in episode 2 where you save a girl from a werewolf, your mouth is covered in blood and so is most of your costumes chest area and left arm from the struggle. Not to mention the make-up teams fun 20 minutes of throwing fake sticky blood all over you to get the right look for the taxing scene.

You grimace a bit, “Oh god that was quite the day on set,” You recall with a half smile, “I was doing stunts all day covered in that red syrupy dye, I think it took a week to get out of my skin.”

Henry suddenly snorts with laughter, “Right! That reminds me, I thought Kal had gotten cut or something, it was just Y/N who had hugged him not realizing she still had some fake blood on her arm.”

“Jeez that’s right, I felt so bad, but I couldn’t stop laughing once we realized it was just me.”

Lauren grins, excited to hear some hidden information about little things that happens behind the scenes, “Oh wow that must have been a sight, alright Henry, Y/N’s taken the lead with a two to one score.” She says as you playfully nudge his strong shoulder. “Second to last image, what is this?”

Without missing a single beat Henry replies, “Jaskier.”

Squinting at the image you lean closer to the iPad, “How the hell do you see Jaskier?”

Smiling the interviewer zooms out to reveal the bards full outfit from the banquet scene, though he’s in the background of a fight between Geralt and some Cintran knights. “Right on!” She exclaims as you lean back into your seat dumbfounded, shoulder flush against Henry’s as he clutches your arm and squeezes it affectionately.

Ignoring his silent show of victory you shrug, “And they say he’s just another pretty face,” Earning a laugh from Lauren and some of the crew as you smirk at the camera, face them shifting to apologetic, “also I’m so sorry Joey you beautiful bastard apparently I’m blind. Uh, we don’t have to dwell on it, Lauren whatcha got?”

“You guys are both tied with two points each, last chance to win.” She replies before glancing down at her iPad, “Alright, what is this?” She asks, her iPad showing that of fuzzy bright colors, with a small corner smear of dull white that clearly wouldn’t make much sense to the untrained eye.

Smirking you glance at a puzzled Henry before sitting up in your seat, feeling rather good about yourself, “Would that happen to be, Hen in Stregobor’s illusion?” You answer with, though sounding a bit as a question considering you aren’t entirely confident as to what image this is.

Lauren’s brows raise in surprise, “Henry, looks like we have a winner. Y/N you are correct.” She beams, enlarging the image to reveal Geralt’s side profile as he talks to the old wizard while the background stays colorful and shrouded in various arrays of sunlight..

Shaking your fist victoriously in the air you give a couple enthusiastic whoop whoops while Henry simply takes it like a champ, “Have fun cleaning up Karl’s monster turds, cause this lucky lady doesn’t have to.” You boast as Henry and the crew laugh.

“Well that was something,” Beams Lauren, “I’m so glad to have chatted for a bit about your guys’ amazing new series, and maybe ended a relationship in the process.” She says jokingly as both you and Henry chuckle.

Patting his thigh affectionately, you smirk, “He’s a tough old bear, but yeah, it was awesome having you talk to us.”

“Yes, take care now.” Adds Henry while the interviewer Lauren stands, saying her goodbyes as she goes to exit the room.

The camera crew take a small break to adjust things and whatnot as you and Henry wait patiently for the next interviewer. He turns, an adorable smile pulling at his lips while you pretend to ignore his fiery gaze. “Well that went pretty well, minus the fact that I’m on Kal poop duty for a week...but uh...” He leans in close to you now, “I missed you all morning.”

Breaking out into a smile you raise a brow, “Boring without me huh?”

“Always.”

You casually shrug, “I figured as much. Don’t worry, we have a hotel all to ourselves tonight.” Your brows wiggle suggestively causing your blue eyed lover to shake his head with amusement.

“Say it louder next time.” He jokes.

Side eyeing the oblivious crew you begin to speak a couple octaves louder, “Henry I can’t wait to fu..” Suddenly his hand presses against your mouth before you’re able to call any attention to yourself. He gives you a warning look before slowly pulling his hand from your mouth.

You grin mischievously, “I wasn’t gonna say that...”

“Sure Y/N,” He mutters in your ear as a new interviewer walks into the room and finds their chair, “and I’m wasn’t going to make you scream tonight.”

Your brows raise in surprise and admittedly slight arousal at his choice of wording in this room of all places. Eyeing him up, face still showing surprise, you finally break out into a satisfied smirk. “You know what? I think you should consider changing your offer.”

He thinks deeply for a moment, though you know he’s only pretending to get you riled up, “Hrmm...maybe, possibly, should I? Should we? You are my co-star after all, that wouldn’t be very professional now would it Y/N?” He states with a shit eating grin, all done while the crew and interviewer get ready, minding their business and completely unaware to yourself and Henry’s teasing.

Scoffing playfully you lightly swat his arm, “We are way past being professional.”

He chuckles, looking from you to the rest of the room, “Oh, they have no idea.”

#the witcher x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x reader)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about reader’s past. Reader and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Y/N playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love.

She maneuvered the bins to her satisfaction and shut the closet doors, pushing against them to squeeze everything in until the latch clicked. She turned to see him watching her and wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. She gave him a wink and a grin, and he was falling all over again.

She perched on the corner of her desk with a tired sigh, and he made his way across the room to her. She reached for him as soon as he was within arms length, wrapping her arms around his middle. She snuggled into his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go to dinner to celebrate.”

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily.

“Yo, Y/L/N!”

The call of her name from the hallway startled them both. Anita began to step over the threshold, continuing, “You ready to get absolutely crunk tonight or— oh.” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes tracking Spencer’s frame. “Dr. Reid.”

Spencer stepped back from Y/N, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Y/N. “So, are we going out or what?”

Y/N groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Y/N chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Y/N stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Y/N was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor.

They’d met up with her and Sam at a Mexican restaurant in Tenleytown. Sam was wonderfully kind and funny, even apologizing for having “flipped him the bird” the last time she saw him. And it was a good thing Sam was being friendly, because Anita was decidedly… less so.

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Y/N’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Y/N’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Y/N and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool.

“Y/N is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Y/N insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.

“The field trip!” Y/N turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously.

“So many things,” Sam baited.

Y/N covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening.

“Okay, so many things happened,” Y/N started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Y/N composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured.

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Y/N agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in.

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Y/N turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.”

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Y/N clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Y/N dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles.

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Y/N lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space.

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Y/N reminded him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Y/N complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

She gave Spencer a reassuring smile, and he tried not to panic as she stood and left him with Sam and Anita. And because the universe was toying with him, at that exact moment, Sam’s phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket with a sigh.

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first.

“You know what’s annoying?”

Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Considering that the issues one might classify as an annoyance vary for each individual person, there are over seven billion potential answers to that question.”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” She dropped her hand back to the table. She still didn’t crack a smile, and her gaze bore into him. “I don’t know how much you know about Owen, and she’d probably kill me for saying anything. But he was a real piece of shit.”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Y/N might have been with before him.

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “The point is, I didn’t know he was treating her like garbage until it was too late. He was already all…” She gestured wildly around her head. “In her head, telling her lies about herself, fucking her up, isolating her. For years he did that. And then it took her years to get him out of her head. To— unlearn all the lies. To build herself back up.”

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Y/N had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored.

“You’re a fed or whatever, so I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she continued, “but I would love nothing more than to put that fucker six feet under.” She ran her hand through her hair, and when she continued her voice was the quietest he’d ever heard it. “All that to say, I… I wasn’t there for her when Owen was destroying her from the inside out. And I will never let that happen again.”

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

She didn’t drop her gaze, and he couldn’t quite think of the appropriate response. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His brain was still fixated on the idea that anyone had ever hurt the loveliest and kindest woman he’d ever met.

“Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Y/N slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee.

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Y/N with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Y/N with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs.

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy.

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door.

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips.

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.”

He couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face at the endearment, the way that North Carolina dripped syrupy and thick over every syllable. She pulled him down to meet her in a sweet kiss, quickly deepening it as he dug his fingers into the softness of her hips. Her hands wound into his hair, tugging lightly and holding him close.

He broke away to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. She laced their fingers together and leaned on him while she kicked off her shoes. He toed his own off and then allowed her to lead him toward his bedroom.

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again.

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

“Ha, ha.” Part of him wanted to bring up Owen, but she was so happy and warm and comfortable in this moment. He didn’t want to ruin this night of celebration. He didn’t want to ruin this day that had been so full of love. They had plenty of time to discuss Owen.

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

A week later, the pair of them were strolling up the sidewalk to the LaMontagne house. Will and JJ were long overdue for a date night, and Spencer had jumped at the opportunity for the two of them to babysit. When they reached the door, Spencer rang the bell and Y/N waited slightly behind him.

They could hear the joy from behind the door before it even opened, Michael’s high pitched giggle and Will’s booming laugh. Spencer was already leaning down in preparation, and Michael absolutely launched into his arms as soon as the door swung open. Spencer clocked the moment that Michael spotted her, purely because he practically squealed and squirmed right out of Spencer’s grip.

“I knew it!” Michael cried.

He wrapped himself around Y/N’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Y/N forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Y/L/N’s boyfriend.”

Y/N’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?”

Michael waited patiently for her to take off her shoes. “Well firstly, he started picking me up all the time, which was nice but weird. And then he wouldn’t stop asking about you. It was kind of annoying.” Spencer made a choking sound, and Will stifled a laugh.

“You guys wear the same shoes, and you both love Halloween and tea and reading. I knew you’d like him if he could be a guest reader.” As he led her into the living room, Michael continued, “Oh, and you wore his purple scarf. He doesn’t let anyone wear the purple scarf.”

Spencer vividly remembered that morning— she’d slept over after a midweek date night in April. The temperatures in DC had plummeted overnight, and the outfit she’d brought left her woefully under-dressed for the chilly spring day. He’d wrapped her up in the soft, purple scarf without a second thought.

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Y/N into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

Spencer pulled his legs up in the tiny chair, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a moment to watch the scene in front of him unfold. Usually on nights like this, Michael ran him ragged with demands for magic tricks, story time, and playing pretend. Tonight, he’d actually been able to catch up with middle school (middle school!) Henry, because Michael was totally and completely enthralled by Y/N.

She was helping with the last of the setup for the “restaurant,” organizing Michael’s menus and straightening his clip-on tie. Of course he’d seen her with kids before. But something about being in this playroom— one that he’d spent so many hours in, watching two of his favorite kids grow up— had him feeling warm from head to toe.

Henry had bounded down the stairs at the news that uncle Spencer was dating his former kindergarten teacher. He hadn’t realized that she’d taught Henry, too, although with the timeline of her teaching career he should have put two and two together. The generally reserved middle schooler had positively beamed when she gasped out, “Gosh, I always forget how tall you’ve gotten!”

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Hen!” Michael called.

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him.

Y/N tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”

“No, no, no.” Michael pushed her toward the kid-sized table. “You and uncle Spencer are on a fancy date.”

Henry rolled his eyes playfully and stood from the chair, pulling it out for her like a perfect gentleman. She beamed at him and gave him a wink. “Thank you, sir.”

She dropped lightly into the chair across from Spencer and laughed a little at his folded limbs. “You look very comfortable.”

He laughed and stretched his legs out straight. “The picture of comfort, really. These chairs were clearly designed with six foot men in mind.”

“I’m sorry I’m so under-dressed for our fancy dinner date,” she teased, dropping her chin into her hand.

“You look stunning, as always.” He gestured to the messy braid Michael had folded her hair into. “I especially love what you’re doing with your hair.”

She sucked in a dramatic breath, bringing up her hand to pat lightly at her hair. “You’re making me blush, doctor.” She peeked behind her and then lowered her voice. “I’m probably going to cry when I try to brush the rats out.”

He looked at her sympathetically. “I know the feeling. I think I’ve got a wide tooth comb, and I can help. I’ve gotten pretty good at detangling Michael’s handiwork.”

Before she could respond, Michael made his way to the table, holding a dish towel over his arm. “Good evening, sir, madam.”

“Good evening,” they chorused, with barely suppressed grins.

“Compliments of the chef.” Michael held out his hand to reveal two slightly smushed strawberries.

“Oh, wow,” Y/N said, eyes wide and gesturing to Spencer. “Honey, do you want to—”

Spencer waved his hand, eyeing the berries warily. “No, no, please, help yourself.”

Y/N held back a smile and accepted the strawberries, holding them carefully in her hand and turning her attention back to Michael. “Thank you so much. What a wonderful appetizer. Could we hear the specials?”

That helped Michael remember the menus, and he pulled them from his pocket and cleared his throat. He handed them the construction paper menus. “Our specials tonight are roasted octopus and a steak tartar.”

From the kitchen, Henry mumbled, “Tartare.”

“Tartare. Steak tartare is our special,” Michael corrected.

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m that adventurous. Maybe my boyfriend is though,” Y/N told a grinning Michael. “What do you recommend for a picky eater?”

“My favorite is the chicken nuggets.”

“Well then, sign me up. One order of chicken nuggets.” Y/N handed him the menu.

Spencer was still perusing the menu for Le Chateau LaMontagne. He smiled at Michael’s handwriting, but particularly at the places where he could tell Y/N had helped. “Everything looks delicious,” he finally decided, “but, you know... I think I’m also going to have the nuggets.”

…

When the boys were finally in bed, Spencer and Y/N settled down in the living room to untangle the mess of her hair. She sat on the floor in between his legs as he gently pulled each braid strand free. He smiled at the way she arched up into his touch, shivering when his fingers brushed over her neck.

“You’re lucky,” he remarked, laying the last braid strand back into its original place. “Michael seems to have gotten a little better at braiding.”

She leaned her head back into his hands. “You detangled the whole thing?”

“Mmhm.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. She brought her hands up to hold him against her, trying to deepen the kiss before laughing at the awkward angle and giving up.

He sat up as she stood and moved to the couch, snuggling up close to him and tucking herself under his arm. “I’m very lucky,” she agreed. “For many reasons.”

Her hand drifted to rest on his tummy, her fingers immediately tracing little shapes over the fabric of his shirt. He pressed a kiss into her hair. “And tired, too.”

“Hmm?”

He leaned his cheek against her head. “When you get tired, you, um— you start drawing on my stomach.”

Her finger paused. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” She shifted to raise her head to look at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve just— noticed.”

She smiled a little sleepily. “You know I love all of you. But I— well, I don’t know, really. I just like your tummy.” She gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s just— nice and comfy and perfect for resting on.”

He covered her hand with his own and leaned forward to press their mouths together. She drew his bottom lip in between her own, sucking a little and then giving it a quick peck before pulling back and stifling a yawn into his chest. “Man, I am tired.” She snuggled back into him and resumed her tummy tracing. “What, um— what else have you noticed?”

He rubbed his hand down her arm and pulled her impossibly closer. “You like to play with my hair.”

“Mmmm, guilty as charged.”

He smiled at the sleep creeping into her voice. “I like it, too.” He ran his fingers up to her shoulder, and then back down to the crook of her arm, soothing her closer to sleep. “Hmmmm. You always have at least one point of contact on my body at all times. It’s usually your hands, but sometimes it’s your head or even your toes— like when you tuck them under my leg.”

“Ugh— I’m sorry. Clingy and putting my feet on you,” she mumbled.

She might have been joking, but Anita’s words were replaying in his head. He couldn’t change what had happened in the past. He couldn’t go back and prevent her from being hurt by someone else. But he could be different in every way. He could be open and honest and vulnerable with her like he’d promised.

“I’m not sorry. I love all of you,” he murmured, pulling her in closer and repeating her words back to her.

“Even my feet?”

He could also show her that there was absolutely nothing that he didn’t love about her. “Especially your feet.”

She huffed a sigh into his chest. “Y’got a foot thing I don’t know about?”

He laughed a little at that. “Only for yours. They’re very cute feet.”

“You’re weird,” she muttered, but she hugged him tighter when she said it.

“You love it.”

Her fingers on his tummy had come to rest comfortably just above his waistband, and he knew she was on the very edge of sleep. “Mmhm. Love you.”

He thought of all the little moments over the past few months.

Doesn’t live up to expectations? Sorry for overstepping. Are we dating? Sorry for being clingy. Sorry for taking so long to tell you. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “So much.”

———

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#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #homoose writes

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bastillewolf · 3 years

Text

Corpse's Bride (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parents’ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?

Notes: Yea, I don’t know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I haven’t posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Let’s just get 2020 over with, please.

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Chapter I - The wedding

Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like they’re either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasn’t to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.

Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember you’d only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.

It was already raining, which would’ve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadn’t been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didn’t mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasn’t perfect upon arrival.

You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when you’d been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You weren’t rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.

You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglots’ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, you’d never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.

“Stop fidgeting,” your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.

A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.

Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. He’d been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.

The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.

Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.

“Oh, miss, you should’ve let me put my coat down for you,” the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.

Your mother’s unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. “Yes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.”

The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.

“Hurry up. We’re already late,” your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.

The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your father’s shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.

To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Weren’t you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? You’d been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?

“It is good to see you again,” she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.

“Our apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!” Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.

She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.

“Ah! You must be the daughter we’ve been hearing so much about!” Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.

“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,” you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. “You know, we’ve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-“

The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothers’, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.

Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someone’s throat.

You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.

“Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you, miss.”

You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. “I don’t think you have to call me ‘miss’, Thomas. We’ll be married soon.”

He smiled shyly. “I would keep calling you ‘miss’ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldn’t change that for me.”

You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldn’t imagine his having been any different.

“Better watch it there, Thomas.” Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. “Don’t want to scare the little lady off there.”

Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didn’t have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, “The name’s Barkis. I’m a… good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.” He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomas’ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.

At least, that’s what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.

“Now,” she reminded you, “This will be good for the family. I know you’re an unconventional spitfire, - I don’t know who you got that from – but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your father’s business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.”

You couldn’t breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.

“And as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldn’t have already died in some gutter.”

You nodded, “I understand, mother. I just need some air.”

She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.

It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didn’t care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.

Quickly.

But you couldn’t reach.

You leaned across the railing.

If you could reach a little further-

But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.

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#Corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse #among us #youtube fanfiction #corpse bride #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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wondersofdreaming · 3 years

Text

Show Night

Characters: Henry Cavill x female reader

Word count: 1.446

Warnings: Pure fluff. Competitiveness. Blurting. Hidden relationship. A little teasing. Embarassment.

Author’s note: This is a prequel to Game Night

Thank you @radaofrivia for your inspiration, motivation and for guiding me <3

Go read her stories here: Rada’s Masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

“Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special treat for all of you. We have the entire Justice League here with us. Please give a warm welcome to Gal Gadot, Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Jason Momoa, Ray Fisher and Ezra Miller.”

The entire audience clapped. There were whistling, some were screaming at the top of their lungs. You were cheering just as loud. Watching your handsome boyfriend walk out and wave to everyone. A relaxed smile spread on his lips when his eyes landed on you.

You were at the Graham Norton show. Sitting on the front row. No one knew who you were except the man who owned your body, heart, and soul, and now also Graham Norton and his crew. The producers had wanted you to stay backstage, but you had been adamant on wanting to sit in the audience and watching the show live. They had relented in the end if you promised not to cause a ruckus, which you had sworn.

Graham starts asking questions about the Zack Snyder’s Justice League, and at some point the engagement ring for Amy Adams’ character ‘Lois Lane’ comes into the conversation.

“Did you in fact choose that ring yourself, Henry?” Graham asked and motioned to the monitor behind him, showing a closeup of the ring.

“I didn’t. I actually have no clue where it comes from,” Henry chuckled, his eyes searching for you. You could see he was a little nervous, as he was fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket. You put your hand on your chest and crossed your fingers.

It was your secret sign for him. A sign of your devotion to him, as you had promised to always be there for him. The idea came to you while watching your favourite anime show ‘Fairy Tail’.

“If you ever become nervous or need a reminder, then look towards me or the camera if I am not there. I will you show you this sign,” you had crossed your fingers over your heart, “Even if you can’t see me, no matter how far away you may be, I will always be watching over you.”(1)

It had been a day where Henry had had a long day filled with interviews right at the beginning of your relationship. He hadn’t wanted to ask you to come, which was the reason why you hadn’t attended, thinking he wanted to work in peace. He proceeded to come home and went directly for your lap, falling asleep in 0.2 seconds, and you had asked him to bring you with him to work, as you, an author, could work anywhere.

“… I think it is about time he finds himself a girlfriend, a woman to spend his life with,” Jason’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Henry squirming more than before. His jaw was tense as he was forcing a laugh. You felt his pain and wished you could sit next to him and squeeze his hand in yours.

“I have a lot of single friends, Supes. Say the word and I’ll introduce you,” Jason smacked Henry’s thighs with the biggest grin on his bearded face. It may have sounded like a joke to the audience but Henry knew that Jason wasn’t teasing.

“I don’t think my girlfriend will like that you’re playing matchmaker, brother,” Henry smiled. All the actors’ faces fell, even Jason was gobsmacked as his jaw dropped to the floor.

Then Henry noticed what he had just said. His head turned towards you with a look of utter shock. He had just blurted out that he wasn’t single anymore, without having consulted you. Your heart was racing, your secret had been revealed. In some way, it felt like a heavy stone having been lifted from your shoulders.

You didn’t know whether to scold him for not asking you to make your relationship public or to laugh at the horror he was sporting on that handsome face of his. You opted for the second choice, the people around you followed suit and started laughing and cheering.

“Well, you heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen, Henry Cavill is officially off the market,” Graham announced to the camera. “Now, Henry, you have to tell us how you two met.”

“We… eh… met through mutual friends. They were having a game night, and we ended up being paired together for charades,” Henry smiled at the memory. Looking at you, making you fall even more in love with him. Jason and the others noticed where Henry was looking and started shouting for you to join the group.

“Oh yes, please she must join us for the next part of the fun,” Graham pleaded.

Ray and Ezra both stood and went to stand at the edge of the stage. Each man gallantly offered a hand, which you took and was led towards the sofa. Jason moved to make space for you and was wearing a big grin, his eyes shining with glee.

After the rounds of introduction and you told what your occupation was, Graham went to introduce the little quiz game he had conjured. You were each given a button that made a sound. Yours sounded like a pig snorting, while Henry’s was a howling wolf.

“So, the winner gets to take home whatever is underneath this piece of cloth,” Graham said after he had told you the rules. He motioned to the covered box next to him.

“Everyone ready?” he asked. All the actors and yourself said yes. Henry was leaning a little forward, to be ready to push his button.

“First question: Who are the original members of the Justice League?”

You pushed your button faster than anyone, while Henry pushed his so hard it nearly flew off the table.

“Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Batman, The Flash, Superman and Green Lantern,” you told Graham. (2)

“Go girly,” Gal cheered for you. She leaned forward and raised her hand for a high five, which you returned.

“Correct! Question number two: What is the Green Lantern oath?”

*Oink oink*

Again you were the fastest. Everyone watched as Henry let out an annoyed huff, but his face showed nothing but absolute happiness.

“In brightest day, in blackest night, No evil shall escape my sight.

Let those who worship evil’s might Beware my power, Green Lantern’s light. (3)” You quoted.

You felt the other actors starring at you. Jason gave you a side hug and told you that Henry had found not only a beautiful woman but also an impressive one and that he was damn lucky to have you. You had smiled back and felt yourself being pulled back towards Henry’s side. He held a protective arm around you the remaining of the show.

“Seriously, Cavill. Don’t want to compete with your girl?” Jason asked teasingly.

“I’ll gladly just lean back and let her have her time in the light. Besides, I’m already winning because she’s with me,” Henry smiled proudly at you. You heard the entire audience all go ‘awwwwwwwww’, so did the actors and Jason went between you and Henry to hug both of you.

“Third question: In what year was the first Justice League comic book published?”

Again you were quick to push the button.

“Depending on whether you’re talking about the first time they appeared all together which was in The Brave and the Bold #28 (4) and published in 1959, while their very first own comic book series was published in late 1960.” (5)

Henry raised his eyebrows, clearly dazzled by your vast knowledge.

“Correct again. Seems you know more about the Justice League than the Justice League itself,” Graham joked.

“I didn’t expect anything less from Superman’s girlfriend,” Ben said with an appreciative grin.

You felt Henry moving closer to you, hugging you tighter to his chest. It was the safest you had ever felt, and even though Henry hadn’t gotten one single point, he was still oozing happiness. Happy to have you by his side forever and ever.

“Here is what you’ve won,” Graham handed you the box and removed the cloth. Inside was Funko Pop figurines of every Justice League member.

After the show, you made sure that every single actor signed their respective figure, and you had pictures taken with them to remember the evening.

At home, you arranged the figures with how they look on the poster you had hung on the wall of your office.

“Another win for the team,” you said out loud. Henry walked in and hugged you from behind. He wrapped those big arms around your middle and whispered seductively in your ear:

“I’m the real winner here.”

1. This is a line from Fairy Tail episode 48 by Makarov Dreyar. I changed it a bit to fit the context.

2. Source https://ew.com/books/brief-history-of-the-justice-league-in-all-its-incarnations/

3. Source https://greenlantern.fandom.com/wiki/Lantern_Oaths_(Disambiguation)

4. Source https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/The_Brave_and_the_Bold_Vol_1_28

5. Source https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Justice_League_of_America_Vol_1_1

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Jason Momoa #That man #Justice League #Gal Gadot #Ben Affleck #Ray Fisher #Ezra Miller #Graham Norton #Game Night #Show Night #My story #Fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Note

if you’re 👀 taking requests 👀👀👀 can i request a Henry!Sherlock x reader where they’re competitive since they were very young, and she’s the only one who can match up to him? and there’s all this tension between them but neither one will ask about it because they’re afraid it’ll throw off whatever balance they have? if that’s confusing just lmk lmaoo sorry if it’s too boring to want to write

This got a little long soooooorry!! (Also got fluffy at the end hope you’re cool with that) also look at that lil blinking confused bean

“What did you do?” You hung your head as your mother bent down to inspect your dirty dress and scuffed knees. “...Sherlock and I had a race,” You mumbled. Your mother, huffed, standing and taking you by the hand, dragging you up to your room to clean you up. “I told you to stop competing with the Holmes boy!” She scolded. You were only seven; your mother didn’t begrudge you playing with the boys down the road, but this was getting out of hand. The week before, you’d come home with a ripped sleeve because you and Sherlock had challenged one another to see who could climb a tree the quickest. “...Did you beat him, at least?” Your mother asked. You turned a smile up at her, and she sighed. “Get changed, I’ll add that dress to the pile to be cleaned and mended.”

-- “...Check.” You groaned as Sherlock said so for the eighth time that game. “Couldn’t you two call it a bloody tie?” Mycroft asked boredly from the armchair he was lounging in not too far off. “No,” You said sharply. “What’s it matter to you?” Sherlock added, glancing back at Mycroft. It was rare that you had a chance to spend the afternoon with Sherlock, and it had surprised you that Mycroft had bothered to hang around. Mycroft didn’t answer, but you glanced up to see him roll his eyes. “It’s just a game,” Mycroft turned the page of his book. You turned back to the board. “Yes, it is...One that I am about to win. Checkmate,” You moved your Queen. Sherlock wasted no time in resetting the pieces on the board as he said, “Best two out of three.” “You two are ridiculous,” Mycroft groaned. At the age of sixteen, other men had already called you far kinder things than that, but you weren’t particularly worried about what Mycroft thought of you. You glanced up at Sherlock, watching him finish resetting your pieces. Sherlock never went out of his way to compliment you, but then, he didn’t call you ridiculous, either.

“Must you?” You could hear Sherlock’s disinterest. And frankly, while you had no interest in your practicing the waltz, either, you had to. Now that you were eighteen, you would be presented to society soon. You let go of Mycroft’s hand and turned to where Sherlock was reading the paper. You folded your arms over your chest, raising a brow. “You’re only in a foul mood because you’re awful at it.” You thrilled at the irritated little twitch in the muscle of Sherlock’s jaw. “I’m perfectly skilled at the waltz, thank you,” He returned crisply. “I somehow doubt that.” The two of you stared one another down for a moment before Sherlock folded the paper and set it aside, standing. You heard Mycroft sigh heavily, “I’ll count,” behind you as he stepped to the side of the room. Sherlock bowed to you as you curtsied to him. You held one another’s gazes as he took hold of your hand and rested his hand on your back. You took hold of your skirt to keep it out of the way of your feet. The two of you glided around the room together, moving as one seamlessly. Neither of you missed a step; neither of you checked to see if the other’s feet were doing the right thing. After a certain point, you realized that Mycroft had stopped counting. You glanced over to where he’d been and realized that he’d left the room. In your distraction, you missed a step. You stumbled. Sherlock’s arm tightened around your waist, pressing you to his chest and keeping you upright. You looked up at him, swallowing thickly. “Are you alright?” He frowned. You were rarely this close to anyone, let alone Sherlock. Had his eyes always been that blue? “I-- Yes.” You stepped back, letting go of Sherlock’s hand. His hand fell away from your waist, brow furrowed as he watched you. You smoothed your hands over your skirt as you gathered yourself. “Your waltz skills are...Adequate,” You conceded. “Yours aren’t and you clearly need more practice,” He held his hand out to you. You scoffed, taking hold of his hand again. --

“Can you make a ring?” You asked, watching Sherlock puff his pipe. “A ring?” He repeated. You’d dropped in on Baker Street as you did often. It was the midst of your second London season and you’d managed to give your chaperon the slip. You held your hand out for his pipe, and he hesitated before passing it off to you. You took a pull from it before you tipped your head up, blowing a few smoke rings. “...How on earth did you learn how to do that?” You chuckled at his almost incredulous tone. “Picked it up at finishing school.” “Presumably outside of the classroom?” “Presumably,” You teased before taking another puff of the pipe. You felt Sherlock watching you, and you blew a few more rings before turning to meet Sherlock’s eyes. He was looking at your lips. You lowered your eyes, passing the pipe back to Sherlock. “You can’t do that, can you?” You added. You watched him take the pipe back, saw him take two puff before he blew a few rings. He then blew a line of smoke that seemed to go through one of them. You narrowed your eyes at his grin and held your hand out. “Give it back.” -- “You’re welcome, by the way.” “I did say ‘thank you’,” Sherlock grumbled. You chuckled at his tone. “I could’ve done it without you,” He added. “Mm, but you didn’t. You solved that case with my help,” You smiled before adding, “It’s your turn.” “I’m well aware of that, thank you. I’d have taken it by now if you would stop talking,” Sherlock said, leaning over the chessboard. “My, someone is testy about sharing credit, isn’t he,” You teased. “Not at all.” “Oh no? The great Sherlock Holmes is not ashamed to have to share credit with someone, let alone a woman?” “That has nothing to do with it,” He dismissed the notion, moving his knight. “What has you in such a mood, then?” You asked. When Sherlock didn’t answer, you glanced up at him, frowning when you saw him watching you. “...Sherlock?” You sat up straighter to get a better look at him. He didn’t answer your question, merely waved to the board and grumbled, “You’re taking too long.” -- “He’s awfully handsome, isn’t he?” You heard someone sigh behind you. You glanced in the direction of the rhetorical question, which had been met with a fair amount of giggling and fan-fluttering. It was true, of course. It wasn’t lost on you how attractive Sherlock had grown to be. What was lost on you was why he’d been in a perfectly foul mood for the last two weeks. The man had sworn up and down that it had absolutely nothing to do with the lead that you’d given him on his last case. You hadn’t brought it up again after that chess game, since he’d seemed so testy. And sure, you and Sherlock had always been a little more competitive and teasing than society thought friends ought to be, let alone a man and a woman, but that was just how the two of you were. Still, there was teasing, and then there was upset. Sherlock seemed upset, and you didn’t know why. You didn’t know how to fix it, either. He’d stopped calling on you as often, and while the two of you still wrote, his letters were much more to-the-point. It was frustrating. You’d come to care for Sherlock. You’d known how you’d felt about him for quite some time, and you were certain that he’d never return your feelings. You’d determined never to make them known, of course; he was your oldest and dearest friend, you cared for him more than almost anyone else in the world. Telling him how you felt could mean making things uncomfortable between the two of you, and losing him. Of course, now it seemed like you’d managed to do that, regardless. “He’s coming, sssh!” You heard behind you. It snapped you from your reverie and you raised your eyes to find that Sherlock was, in fact, striding across the room. You were familiar with the group of women behind you, and you found yourself wondering just who the object of Sherlock’s interest might be. There were quite a few sweet and clever ones in the group, women that could make Sherlock happy, that could-- But then he stopped in front of you, and dipped a bow, and held his hand out. “If I may have this dance?” He asked, smiling. But there was something different about this smile. It wasn’t one that you’d seen before, not a familiar and teasing pull of the lips. No, this was soft and warm, and his eyes were a little nervous. You felt yourself smile in turn, and you dipped a small curtsy, keeping your eyes on his. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Holmes.” Where you’d once dreaded the waltz, you now reveled in it. Gliding in Sherlock’s arms felt easy. You moved together as effortlessly as you once did, keeping your eyes on his. “Sherlock?” “Yes?” “...Are you quite well? -- That is… You’ve been in such a mood, and…” His brows raised, amused, as you tried to find a delicate way to say what you were trying to say. “I was worried about you,” You added quietly. “It was not my intention to make you worry,” He gave your hand a small squeeze, “I apologize. I’ve been...Mulling over a few things.” “Such as?” “Such as… The components needed for a good partnership between two married persons.” “And what conclusion have you come to?” “Shared values, trust, affection, respect… a strong foundation.” “A strong foundation?” You repeated, frowning. Sherlock’s steps slowed, then stilled as the waltz ended. He didn’t let go of your waist or your hand as he should’ve. “...A strong friendship, perhaps?” He ventured quietly. You felt your heart fluttering like one of the fans of the women watching you. “I see,” You said dazedly. “Have I missed the mark entirely?” He asked, lowering his hand from your waist. You grinned at him, feeling shy around him for the first time in your life. “Holmes, you astound me.”

#asks #replies #requests #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes x You #Sherlock Holmes Imagine #Sherlock Holmes Henry Cavill #Sherlock Holmes/Reader #Sherlock Holmes/You

306 notes · View notes

crimsonrae · 4 years

Text

Cigarettes & Morning Breath

Summary: Syverson, finally home, has a rough night that leads into a productive morning.

Captain Syverson X OFC

Warning: Kitchen Sex, Breeding.

Rated NC-17.

A/N: I think that I’m just too pent up, but I hope you all enjoy! Continue with Fussin' with the Facts.

Tagged: @henry-cavill-obsessed @xxxkatxo @omgkatinka @clarreee @ginger-tiger @viking-raider @tinabean37 @graceful-leah @worshipping-skarsgard @sweetdreamsofgelato @michellemybelles-world @werewolfonastolenbike @bichibibi @singeramg @a-wxnderless-mind @chamomilebottom @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @cavillhavoc @promptandpros @multixwolf @oddsnendsfanfics @vikingsbifrost @marswritings @imneonpanda @tumblnewby @henryfanfics101 @lebguardians @agniavateira

Cigarettes & Morning Breath

He woke with the blasts of gunfire still ringing in his ears. It took a moment for Sy to remember where he was, his hand had already been reaching for the knife that he kept under his pillow...used to keep under his pillow. It was only as his dark gaze registered the person lying next to him that he recalled he was home.

Home.

He was home.

He drew a shaky hand over his face, glad that he hadn’t woken her. Some nights he screamed and thrashed, only to find that he had left bruises when he came back to reality. She never blamed him, never got angry over it or even scared. Syverson wished she would. Wished she would scream at him or even leave. Anything was better than the quiet worry that shined at him as she soothed him.

How pathetic was he?

His gaze traced her peaceful face. Her mouth was open slightly, a thin trail of drool pooling onto the pillow. He smirked at the adorable picture she made, but resisted the urge to touch her. He had ruined too many nights of sleep as it was, but he knew he wouldn’t be visiting the Sandman’s realm again. Gingerly, he eased himself out of bed, shushing her as she stirred and silently crept to the kitchen.

He got the coffee brewing and reached into the cabinet above the fridge. He had hidden a pack of cigarettes up there. A habit he had been trying to break since he had gotten back. He was more successful than not on a good day. This wasn’t a good day. He needed one. He needed something to calm the nervous energy stinging his veins that was telling him to run, to defend.

He popped the nicotine roll behind his ear as he waited for the coffee to finish percolating. He’d smoke it outside with a cup. He didn’t want her smelling it.

Not that he had a chance to smoke it as a few seconds later a hard flick to his ear had him jerking around, “Ow, fuck! Baby!”

Her nimble fingers had snatched his cigarette and tossed it in the trash as he rubbed at his assaulted appendage. She turned to look at him in groggy grumpiness and he had to bite back another smirk. His girl was not a morning person...at all.

He wasn’t surprised when she fell against his chest, half asleep, “Didn’t mean to wake you, darlin’. Go back to bed.”

She grunted and looped her arms around his waist and fuck if it didn’t feel good to have her pressed against him. He relaxed a little and played with the ends of her hair until he heard a quietly murmured, “Dreams again?”

“Hmm.” He grumbled, not interested in talking about his night terrors. His fingers itched for that cigarette.

The box was knocked from his hand before he even registered that he had reached for it. He raised an annoyed brow as he turned to see her glaring sternly at him, “Really?”

“No more smoking, Jay.” She growled at him, “Rather have your morning breath than that tobacco taste.”

Sy snorted in disbelief, “Is this the morning breath before or after a Listerine rinse?”

He dodged her swat and reached around her to pour a cup of coffee. He was only allowed a sip before she took it and pressed her lips against his. She was insistent and he had never been one to refuse her.

His strong fingers looped under the back of her curvy thighs and hefted her up as he took control of their kiss. She would damn well take what he was willing to give. He nibbled on the supple swell of her lip until her mouth parted to grant him entrance. Morning breath was smothered by strong coffee and a distinct lack of giving a fuck as they tasted each other.

Sy channeled all his nervous energy into that kiss. And was rewarded with breathy whimpers and searching fingers that delved beneath the hem of his boxers. He slipped her onto the counter as her little touches turned bold and she stroked him with all the talent of a high-priced hooker.

Fuck.

Arousal burned his veins and he pulled back enough to see it flaming up in her as well.

Growling lowly, he smacked her hands away and yanked her underwear down her legs. He could practically smell her. He didn’t have the patience to be gentle in that moment. He pulled her legs apart and freed himself in one move before thrusting sharply into her. She yelped at the sharp intrusion, but he was lost to her scalding heat as her slick tight muscles engulfed him.

He could live inside her.

She squirmed – needing friction when he didn’t move right away. He bit warningly at her neck, but gripped her hips hard and slammed her down onto his cock over and over.

She clawed at his shoulders and whimpered at every pounding hump, but her body was made for him. She took everything and threw it back at him as she grinded and clenched around him.

He hammered into her until he heard the squelching of her slickness slapping against his hips as they joined over and over. Then and only then did he search out her swollen little nub.

Her head flung back as he pinched and played with her little clit. It didn’t take much before she erupted so beautifully on him. Her hoarse scream a symphony for his ears. He groaned as her muscles clamped down on him so snuggly, he wasn’t sure he would be able to leave her. It was so damn good.

He pumped into her a few more times before her little cavern became too much and he spilled his hot milky seed into her womb.

Ragged breathing filled the kitchen and he rested his head against hers as he managed to choke out, “Doesn’t count as morning breath. Had that bit of coffee.”

She huffed a faint laugh and nipped at his chin, “Shut up, you idiot.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured, unwilling to move away from her just yet.

She stayed like that pressed against him, on him until her fingers began to press urgently at his chest. He heard her whispered, “Fuck.”

Worry shot through his bliss as he eyed her, “What? What is it? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head exasperated, “We didn’t use a condom and I only finished those antibiotics yesterday. I haven’t gone back on my birth control. Let me up.”

He stilled as the implications settled in his mind. His hand smoothed over her stomach with unconscious tenderness. A baby... they could have made a baby. He pictured her swollen with his child and felt a fierce flash of pride, but also contentment. He wanted that...

His sapphire eyes met her slightly panicked ones and smirked, “No.”

Her panic turned to disbelief, “No? You want a baby?”

“Yeah.” He said quietly, shyly, “Yeah, I do.”

She arched a brow at him, “You want me fat with mood swings, cravings, and cankles?”

“What the fuck are cankles?” He asked thrown by that last item, but still unmoving.

She smiled charmed by his cluelessness, “Does it really matter?”

Sy shrugged and lightly snapped his hips against hers. She gasped and realized that he was still very much aroused. He continued his shallow thrusts, building her desire back up as he said, “You could wear a damn burlap bag and I still find you attractive, darlin’. But I’ll say right now, you’re not allowed to call yourself fat when you’re carrying my little one. I won’t put up with it and junior will feel his first tanning via his mama should I hear that word leave your lips.”

“What about chunky?” She asked provokingly as she clenched around him.

Sy groaned, “Nope.”

“Heavy?”

“No.”

“Gross? Whalelike? Elephant?”

“No. No. And no.” He punctuated each no with a hard thrust, “Not allowed.”

She mewled before asking, “And after? We’ll have more sleeplessness nights. A screaming baby and diapers to change.”

Sy grinned at the thought, but couldn’t say he minded any of those things. He slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt, “I think we’ll survive.”

“I think so too.” She whispered and he felt something relax inside him. He knew that was her acquiescence to his desire.

He pressed a bruising kiss to her lips, “Then stop your yapping, woman. I have work to do.”

She snorted with laughter as he picked her up and carried her back to their bedroom. The coffee left on, forgotten.

#sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #sand castle fanfiction #henry cavill #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #fanifc

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doctorthreephds · 3 years

Text

Synapses: Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 4.8k

TW: Mentions of death and drugs--specifically from the episode Demonology

A/N: Hey! Just a forewarning, the forensic techniques in this are complete speculation from what I know and they are probably not accurate at all.

Summary: After starting your new job and getting closer to Spencer, you find yourself having your first fight with your new friend when the anniversary of your mother’s death approaches.

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention @eevee0722

Starting your new job was hard, like all things, but enjoyable. The first few days were learning the ropes and the area and you often came home exhausted, tired from a long day’s work in a lab you were unfamiliar with. The little things were what kept you going. Every day, you made an effort to eat lunch with your father--leftovers or food to go from a nearby restaurant or deli. When your father went away on his case, you spent time with Penelope in her bat cave. It was fun to hang out with her, spouting comedic rhetoric whenever someone called her for advice.

“Please don’t eat near the merchandise, baby, it’s my money maker,” she states, typing away at the speed of light as someone rings in. “Information highway speaking, you’re on speaker with me and the good doctor.”

You snort and let out a small laugh as you silently dig into your takeout box of chow mein.

“The good doctor? I thought that was me,” you hear Spencer speak up from the phone and smile, lifting your chopsticks to your mouth.

“You’ve been replaced, Dr. Reid. Sorry!” you say before taking another bite of the noodles.

“What are you doing--”

“Stay on track, boy genius. What do you need from me?” Penelope asks and you zone out, not wanting to listen into the details of the gruesome murders they were investigating. While your job sometimes involved dead bodies, you were in fact eating lunch and wanted to keep your lunch down for the rest of the day. After they were finished, you could hear them wrapping up and you inserted a final goodbye.

“Bye Spencer! I’ll see you soon,” you state as the phone beeps to signal that the call has ended.

“See him soon?” Penelope spins around as she fiddles with a pink pen with a puffball on the end that almost matches the pink blush on your face.

“I mean I’ll see him when the case ends,” you mumble and toss your takeout box into her trash, taking a sip from your water bottle.

“Hm, I’m sure that’s what you meant,” she smiles and turns back to her computer, typing something up. “If you need any info on him, I can tell you anything you want to know, sweets.”

“I’m not gonna do that, it’s an invasion of privacy,” you stand and check your watch, it’s about time for you to get back to work. “But if anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”

Other times, when your father was too busy to entertain you, you would eat with the others--or more specifically, Spencer. Travelling up to the sixth floor, you check to see if Spencer is anywhere nearby. When you deduce that he is nowhere near, his plush office chair becomes your new home as you open up your bag and grab the tupperware full of salad while you wait for his arrival. Opening the small container, you poke at the leaves with your fork and make a face when you see that they’re soggy and limp.

“Have a salad today?” he asks as you look at the sad lettuce in your small tupperware container.

“Yeah. Although, it doesn’t look very appetizing,” you state and put it down on his desk, looking up at the cup of coffee in his hand that looked far more delicious than the monstrosity that was sad salad.

“Did you know that salad comes from the latin word ‘herba salta’ which means ‘salted herbs,’ so perhaps you don’t have enough salt on your herbs,” he states and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you close the container and put it away.

“Any more salt and my blood pressure’s gonna be at risk. Wanna grab lunch at the deli?” you ask and stand. He nods as the two of you exit the bullpen, taking the elevator down.

This was your schedule, and you loved it. It didn’t take that long for you to build a good relationship with everyone, constantly checking in on their lives outside of Quantico. Emily was doing well with Sergio, Henry was growing at a rate that JJ couldn’t comprehend, Penelope was still going out with Kevin, and you and Spencer were often found hanging out on the weekends when he wasn’t called away for a case.

You found it odd how easily you took to Spencer, how his fun facts were always there to brighten up every conversation and his constant pursuit of knowledge was admirable. He took you to his favorite bookstore as well as his favorite used bookstore that he frequented in hopes of finding first editions and original copies. He also would take you to his favorite park, the one that he went to so that he could play chess and he would always win. It wasn’t always about him, though, you loved taking him to go see new movies as opposed to the older and foreign ones that he enjoyed. The two of you also committed to trying new foods together. With his sensory issues and your picky nature, you both embarked on a journey to eat new foods in hopes of finding something new and delicious.

While your new found friendship was almost perfect in the way that you committed yourselves, it too could not come without ups and downs. The first bump came when you helped consult on an unofficial case, something that had happened with Emily’s close friends. It was only a few days before the anniversary for your mother’s death and you were running on fumes.

“Hello?” you ask sharply, pouring over several reports that were due soon. Your temper was short today and you just wanted to go home.

“Hey it’s Spencer. Are you okay?” he asks and you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What do you need?” you sit back in your chair and take a sip of your coffee, attempting to quell your anxieties while he speaks.

“I’m not at Quantico right now, I’m at a victim’s house. His name is Thomas Valentine and he died of dehydration but Emily believes there’s foul play. I’ll have Garcia send over his tox reports along with Matthew Benton’s to see if the pathologist missed anything. We’re on our way back so feel free to meet us upstairs when we debrief,” he says and you nod, writing down the information on a stray post-it note so that you don’t forget. “By the way, your dad says ‘hi.’”

“Tell him I say ‘hi’ back. I’ll meet you upstairs,” you state and hang up the phone, sighing as you run your hands through your hair to release some nervous energy. It was only a few more days and you would be on your day off, it was only a few days until you would be able to visit your mom again.

Just as if she heard it from five floors up, you receive an email from Penelope with the toxicology reports from both victims. A quick skim shows that there is a lack of intense scrutiny due to the simple cause of death. But, if Emily and Spencer believe otherwise then it was in your best interest to assume so as well. Looking into Matthew Benton’s report, there was evidence of long-term methamphetamine abuse which could contribute to the death but nothing out of the ordinary. It was only midday and you were running out of steam but your friends needed you so you had to pull it together.

After printing out all the information you have and stashing it in a folder, you make your way up to the bullpen and watch people rushing around. The busyness and chatter made you a bit woozy but the sight of Spencer helped to ground out a bit.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t have to be here,” he frowns as he sees you approach and you shake your head.

“I’m fine, I just want to help out in any way I can,” you mumble and move past him toward the conference room where almost everyone was gathered. Once Hotch arrived, they began to pour over details and possibilities within this pseudo-case.

Listening intently, you take note of the evidence as it is laid out for you, the scuff marks under the bed, the missionary church in Spain that the two victims had visited, the idea that each family had been highly religious. Years of going to church in France and D.C. were being brought back in an instant.

“That sounds like an exorcism,” you blurt out and look up to see everyone staring at you. It was odd to hold their attention but you nestled down in your chair and continued to listen.

“Look, I know the Bible just as well as anyone, but I also know there’s nothing more open to behavioral interpretation than religion,” Derek comments.

“Meaning what?” Emily asks, shaking her head.

“I think it’s dangerous for us to wanna find a connection between these deaths,” he states.

“Wait, was Thomas’ wife religious?” Emily frowns and looks around at your father.

“She was concerned that he had been cursing God,” your father recalls as Spencer dives into an inference.

“Exorcism ritual can take days to complete. It’s possible the stress induced could cause a heart attack, especially in someone with a history of drug abuse,” he explains and looks at you.

“Definitely, drugs leave marks on your body that are irreversible unless you completely stop. It makes an impact on your hair growth, your skin, your heart, so it’s completely plausible. And it could explain how someone died of dehydration,” the facts fly so fast through your head as you try to connect the dots while you speak, your head spinning. Even a couple minutes in the conference room was overwhelming, you couldn’t imagine doing this all the time.

“Guys, look, I’m willing to say that we might have an unsub who ritualizes killings as if they were exorcisms, maybe. But, right now, we don’t even know if we have a crime yet,” Derek voices his concerns and you slowly nod, thinking about how you could help to clear up any room for error. It was possible if you were able to look at the bodies and examine them that you may have the ability to try and see if there were any other traces of possible deadly substances.

“Morgan’s right. We need to step back. Let me talk to someone before I have us all telling ghost stories,” your father suggests and everyone appears to take this as time to cool off and rethink any possibilities, standing and leaving the room to follow their own leads. Dread settles in your chest as you sit in the chair, looking down at the folder to find any piece of information that could help you come to a conclusion but the words were flying around in your head and you felt too sluggish to do anything.

“Do you think that you can get me the victim’s clothing? Perhaps something was done to them topically that would explain their deaths further,” you stand and sigh, already dreading going back to your reports.

“Yeah, sure. It’ll be our lunch break,” he says and smiles. While his smiles usually have the power to brighten your entire day, your sour mood only extinguished any fire of joy inside your body.

“I have too much to do, just go on without me,” you respond and begin walking out of the conference room. You can already feel Spencer’s pestering bubbling up and wanting to know what’s wrong but you didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“Are you sure? Studies have shown that taking breaks help boost blood flow and information retention--”

“I’m sure, Spencer,” you snap and continue walking toward the elevators before he reaches out and grabs your arm to stop you.

“What’s going on? Are you mad at me?” he asks.

“God, I’m fine Spencer! Stop babying me, you’re not my dad,” all the emotion that had been building up in the morning spilled out in anger and your heart shattered to see Spencer so confused and sad. “I’m sorry.”

Stepping into the elevator, you press the button to go down and watch the doors close in front of you, not looking anywhere in the direction of Spencer. The fluorescent lights above you suddenly look far too bright and tears well in your eyes. What would your mother say if she could see you now? Would she be disappointed? Would she be angry? A vibration in your pocket breaks you out of the self-loathing spiral.

From Dad (12:24PM):

I think you just about broke this kid’s heart.

To Dad (12:25PM):

I didn’t mean to. It’s just so close.

From Dad: (12:25PM):

Just tell him. He’ll understand.

To Dad (12:26PM):

I know. I love you.

As you sit at your desk and stare at the papers, your mind moves on autopilot to complete the rest of your tasks. With only two cups of coffee in your system, your head was starting to hurt and your focus was fizzing but when Spencer came back with a couple bags full of clothing to be processed, the guilt overpowered any feeling of fatigue.

“I brought the evidence. Just send the report to Garcia,” he states and drops the bag off at your desk before turning to leave.

“Hey, Spencer?” he turns to look at you, his eyes narrowed as you speak. “I’m really sorry. I’m not feeling well.”

“I could have told you that, and I’m not even a medical doctor,” he mutters and sighs. The air between you is stale and you want to speak, but don’t know what to say.

“Do you want to stay and help me process the evidence? It’ll only take a little bit,” you ask, your voice small. He appears to ponder the thought before nodding and you smile, standing and taking the evidence over to one of your machines. This was where you thrived. While you worked in silence, it was comforting to have Spencer around, even if the two of you were still on rocky ground.

You first started with isolating the fabric and the substances on the clothing. From there, you take them and test what they are to see if there are foreign substances that may have contributed to the deaths of Matthew Benton and Thomas Valentine. Processing goes quickly and you print out the report, frowning at the traces of nerve agent on the clothing.

“There’s sarin on their clothing,” you tell him and hand over the papers for him to read through.

“Thanks,” he mutters and stands to leave.

“Are we okay?” you ask him, watching him turn as you wrap your arms around your torso in a comforting way, warming your hands from the cold lab.

“Obviously not, if you’re not telling me something,” he puts down the folder and comes up to you, reaching out to take your hands. It was a bit of a shock, considering the fact that you knew he hated touching hands, but it was progress and it made your heart melt to think that he would feel safe enough to do so. “I know something’s wrong and I want to help you, but you’re not being honest with me.”

“I just haven’t eaten, Spence. And I’m under the weather, which doesn’t help. I promise that I’ll be okay,” you tell him, staring up into his eyes and speaking with as much truth as you can. But it wasn’t convincing enough and he pulls away as if you just burned him.

“I guess you don’t trust me, then,” he mumbles and turns around, picking up the folder and getting into the elevator. As the doors close, he stares back at you like he was disappointed and it completely broke you. Fat tears roll down your cheeks as your chest bubbles with anxiety and sorrow. You find a seat at your desk and desperately try to wipe the tears away, breathing in deeply to calm yourself down. You were still at work and you still had work to do.

Quickly, you dive back into your reports, writing them up as quickly as possible and pushing Spencer to the back of your mind. Before you know it, the end of the day comes and you’re out of the building and on the metro at record speed. The vibration of the wheels rolling over the tracks lulls you into a sense of security, distracting you from the pangs in your stomach. Without the distraction of work, your mind was able to wander.

Was it fair for you to hide this from Spencer? Why did you? Why did you need to keep this secret so badly?

Perhaps it was the years of being on your own after her death or the fact that showing sadness was opening yourself up to vulnerability and connection that you feared. Perhaps it was both, you didn’t have many friends in grad school and only talked to your dad once every blue moon. The thought of being a burden was unbearable, but losing Spencer was unfathomable. You could deal with a little bit of vulnerability if it meant getting your friend back.

Your legs guide you home once you reach your stop and you reheat some rice and add some soy sauce to make something that is edible and that you can keep down without issue. After eating, you shower and head to bed, falling asleep the second that you hit the pillow.

The next day, your alarm jars you out of a dreamless sleep, shaking you from a night that felt far too short. Your entire body was fatigued and your brain was a mess, but it was your last day at work before you got the day off. As you got ready and out the door, your phone was blowing up with information sent by Penelope and Emily. There was another death and they needed you to analyze the clothing of the third victim to confirm that nerve agent was being used to kill these men.

One you reach the office, you sit down and begin writing as you await the evidence. If you worked quick enough and finished the reports, you would be able to go home early. The fog in your brain makes it hard to focus as you work on more write ups, the words barely forming sentences, but you force yourself to persevere through lunch. Late in the afternoon, Spencer appears again with the evidence bag you need to process.

“Just send the report to Penelope when you’re done,” he states and turns back around to get into the elevator but you stand and pipe up.

“Can we talk?” you ask, hoping and praying that he would let you speak.

“I don’t know, can we? Because you seemed pretty adamant about keeping secrets from me last time we tried to talk,” he mumbles as he turns to look at you, his eyes dark and full of storm clouds.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, trying to find the right words so that your thoughts form coherent sentences. “I’m bad at talking about what’s plaguing me. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I’m sorry. It’s not an excuse, I know, but it’s a start.”

You want to say ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, but it wasn’t an explanation and he deserved at least that.

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother’s death,” his frown almost vanishes from his face as you speak which makes you feel a hint of encouragement to keep talking. “And I’ve always dealt with it alone. Maybe because I don’t let myself handle it any other way, but I hope that you’re able to understand. I’m sorry, Spencer.”

Staring down at the ground, you will the tears to stay in your eyes so that you can keep up some image of togetherness, but they fall as quickly as they form. Suddenly his arms are wrapped around you and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. This was him accepting your apology and you suddenly felt like you could breathe. You worm your arms around his torso and pull him close, allowing yourself to take in all of him. The smell of his cologne, the feeling of muscles as they squeeze you tight, the fact that his hands were intertwined behind your back and his head was settled on top of yours.

“I’m sorry too,” he mumbles and you pull away slightly to look up at him. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

He pauses as he also stumbles over his words.

“But, I’m glad you did.”

You let out a sigh and hug him tight again, wanting to memorize the way his arms felt around you. After another long hug, you pull away and wipe your nose, shaking your head as you look over at the evidence bag.

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I’ll get to processing your clothes now,” you mumble and let out a light laugh as you wash your hands and ready the evidence, processing the substances on his clothing. Beside you, Spencer leans against the wall and watches silently. It’s a bit nerve wracking to have someone watching you the way that he does, with bright eyes and attentive body language, but you do your best to explain it to him as the machine brings up the results.

“Nerve agent, it’s sarin,” you turn to him. “Go tell them.”

He nods and picks up the newly printed report.

“I’ll come get you afterward,” he promises. “We can ride the train together.”

“There’s no need, I’m going home now. Just text me,” you smile up at him as he nods and takes your hand, squeezing it one last time before leaving.

You feel lighter now, like you lifted a rock off your chest. It was a burden, keeping secrets, but now you could feel a little bit better. After writing up all the procedural stuff on how you processed the evidence, you pack your bag and head to the metro. When you’re on the train, you get a text from Spencer telling him that they caught the priest and he was being deported back to Italy.

To Spencer (7:45PM):

I’m glad.

From Spencer (8:01PM):

Do you want me to come over?

To Spencer (8:02PM):

No, it’s okay. I’ll be okay.

When you finally arrive at your stop, you easily find your way home. There was still sadness lingering, it was getting to be that time, but you had Spencer and that was enough. Getting home and getting to bed is a quick ordeal after you eat something and drink way too much wine to try and drown your sorrows and quiet your mind. The same days every year, you take a couple off so that you can mourn the loss of your mother and visit her grave. It was almost like a way to pretend that she was alive, even if just for a day. You had a lot to tell her after everything that’s happened, but it still didn’t help the fact that she was gone forever.

Waking up the next morning is rough, it feels like a train plowed into you after a night of tears shed and one too many glasses of wine as you reminisced. Looking at your phone on this bright Friday morning, you see that you’ve managed to sleep in pretty significantly, but at least it was still technically morning. Waiting for you are a text from your father and a text from Spencer.

From Dad (6:00AM):

Chin up, tesoro. Your mother loved you very much, she would be proud of everything you accomplished.

From Spencer (7:02AM):

Do you want to get dinner after work?

From Spencer (7:34AM):

Where are you?

From Spencer (8:01AM):

Let me know what I can do.

The blanket of isolation took over you as you slowly began your morning routine, slowly being the key word. While Spencer knew, you didn’t know what to do now. This was uncharted territory for you and while you knew you weren’t alone, you had also never mourned with another person besides time spent at your mother’s funeral. Perhaps another year, another time. He was only just your friend.

After you throw on comfy clothes and brush your teeth, you put your hair up so that it’s out of your face and eat some cereal--something easy and virtually effortless. Once you finish, you make a mental note of what you’re going to pick up at the store before heading to the cemetery to spend time with your mom. Throwing on a coat and slinging your bag over your shoulder, you punch in the security code and open the door to see Spencer there.

“Spencer? What are you doing here, it’s only like two,” you frown and close your apartment door behind you, locking it with your keys.

“I finished up all my paperwork so I took a half day and I wanted to cheer you up,” he states as you look up at him. “Maybe we can watch some Star Wars or that vampire movie you always talk about.”

“I’m going to visit my mom,” you tell him.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll go then,” he says and begins to turn and walk away but you pipe up before he can get too far.

“Why don’t you come with me?” you ask. He was already here and he wanted to help you feel better. His presence alone was grounding, reminding you of what you had and not of what you lost.

“Are you sure?” he asks and you nod, walking up next to him.

“She would have loved you,” you almost reach out and take his hand before you realize what you’re about to do. “Can--Can I hold your hand?”

You’re almost positive he’s going to say no. After all, you know he has issues with germs and sensory issues, the day before being a special occasion because you had broken down crying in front of him. But, when he nods and holds out his hand, you feel your heart flutter. The two of you make your way downstairs in a comfortable silence and the warmth of Spencer’s hand in yours is comforting. As you exit the elevator and make your way out onto the street, the cold D.C. air is refreshing.

Together you walk to the local grocery store to grab some food and flowers, daffodils, which were your mother’s favorite. After, you ride the metro down near the cemetery. This whole time, the presence of Spencer is enough to distract you from the ever present cloud looming over your head, but when you finally walk through the cemetery’s gate, all hell breaks loose.

When Spencer hears you sob, he instantly wraps his arms around you. The floodgates open and you softly sob into his chest, your arms wrapped around him in a vice. Your heart hurts, you miss your mother. She should have been alive to see all the accomplishments, to see your wedding and your second graduation. It’s times like these where you wonder if anything could have been done, if you could have seen the symptoms sooner or if you could have found another doctor, but your father always reminds you that you did everything in your power to help her and that she would have been proud of the person you were today.

Once your sobs subside, you sniffle and pull away to wipe your nose.

“Sorry for crying on you,” you huff out a small laugh and try to wipe away some of the snot that got on him while you cried.

“It’s okay, I understand,” he says and you sit down on the blanket, Spencer sitting next to you and helping to lay out the food.

“Hey mom,” your voice breaks a little and you clear your throat before turning to Spencer. “This is Spencer and he works with dad. He’s my best friend.”

You smile at him as he turns and waves at her headstone. The notion is so heartwarming that you feel the tears rise up again.

“Hi Ms. Montgomery, your daughter is one of the best people I know,” he says as you begin to eat cheese and crackers from the charcuterie board.

“He works in the same building I do, I got the job at Quantico. I know that FBI agents and you don’t mix very well but I enjoy my job and they have all these new machines for me to play with,” you lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder and continue talking as he wraps an arm around you instinctively. As the two of you sit there and pick at the food, continuing to talk about your mom and your fondest memories, there’s a part of you that wishes it could be like this always. Maybe you didn’t have to always hide your sadness and spend it in isolation. And just maybe, there was always a rainbow after a storm.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia

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mediocre-writerr · 4 years

Text

fresh eyes [jamie]

Jamie x fem reader

Requested: In a non-creepy ghost verse, reader goes to like visit Dani in England bc she wants to confront her for running away from Eddie’s death, and then basically she meets Jamie, then Dani and the whole house scheme them to get together.

For my friend @everything-im-a-fan-of, she came up with this request and I hope you enjoy it! Also go check out her blog, it’s amazing!

*not my gif*

Ring, ring, ring, ring

You hear the rings coming from the other line of the phone as you’re trying yet again to contact your best friend Dani. Dani and you met when she met your brother Eddie. People would call you ‘The Three Musketeers’, that’s how inseparable you guys were. Before Eddie even proposed you already knew that you and Dani were gonna be best friends and sisters for life.

When your brother proposed and Dani accepted it, you could tell her heart wasn’t in it. Maybe it was at first, but as the rehearsal dinners and the wedding planning were getting more and more serious, the more distant she became. Even though you were happy for your brother, you also knew that this whole proposal wasn’t good for either of them in the long run. Dani would have a nervous breakdown and Eddie would end up heartbroken.

So one day you went on a lunch date with Dani and told her that he needs to tell him the truth, for both of their sakes. She did and later that night he died. Dani had become distant from you ever since, you knew what she was thinking that all of this was her fault and she had that guilt build up for a long time. And you tried to be there for her as much as possible, but one day she took off to England on an ‘impromptu’ trip, that was months ago. You just want your best friend back and to make sure she’s okay.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice asked from the other line.

“Hi! My name is Y/N O’Mara! I’m looking to see if Dani is available.” you respond and you can hear rustling coming from the other line.

“Hey Y/N,” you heard Dani respond, this is the first time hearing her voice in months.

“Hey stranger! I have a little surprise for you!” you say excitedly.

“Oh what is it?” she asks curiously and you can hear a small smile form on her face.

“I’m coming to visit and see your new home that is Bly Manor! I’ve missed my best friend and I thought about needing to get away for awhile. If you don’t mind of course, I’d just really need to get away.” you say and you sigh softly waiting for her response.

“Of course that’s okay Y/N. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant and away, I promise I’ll make it up to you once you get here and I’ll explain everything!” she responds and you nod smiling over the phone.

“Deal! I’ll see you in a couple days!”

- - - - - - - - - - -

Arriving in London was a sight to see, but you couldn’t stay in the big city for too long. Right when you arrived you were greeted by a sweet man with a cool mustache and glasses.

“Hi, are you Y/N O’Mara?” he asks and you nod, “Amazing! Nice to meet you, I’m Owen. I will be taking you to Bly Manor. I work with Dani.”

I shake his hand and he smiles back, “It’s nice to meet you too! I hope my best friend hasn’t caused you guys too much trouble!” you say as he puts my luggage in the back.

“Surprisingly not for an American, but we’re still waiting for the other foot to drop,” he jokes and you laugh, “But in all seriousness she has been lovely and actually keeps the kids in check.”

“Good!” I reply, “If she ever causes too much trouble, give me a call and I will sort her out for you.” now it was his turn to laugh as he starts the car and makes the drive to the manor.

You guys partake in small talk and get to know each other. You come to learn the Owen loves puns and he will do anything to keep the puns going. He’s like a dad with just dad jokes stuffed up his sleeves.

After about an hour ride you guys finally arrive in Bly. Owen helps you out of the car while unloading your bags. You’re about to make your way inside the house when you hear snickers coming from behind the two of you.

“Owen, how many times do we have to tell you not to bring girls back to the manor to impress them? Henry always finds out and he always gets mad at us!” the voice says jokingly.

Owen laughs and you both turn around to see a beautiful girl with curly brown hair, she had a pair of gloves crumpled into a ball in one hand, and shears in the other. Her eyes met yours and she sent you a small smirk.

“Jamie, this Y/N O’Mara, Dani’s friend,” Owen introduces the two of us, “Y/N this is Jamie, she’s our gardener.”

You extend your hand out and she takes it softly, “A pleasure to meet you.” you say and she just nods.

“These plants aren’t gonna cut themselves. It was nice meeting you Y/N, Poppins is gonna be glad you’re here.” Jamie responds before walking away towards the bushes.

“A hard one to crack, don’t take it too personally.” Owen responds as we enter the house and you carry your luggage inside following suit, “Dani might be upstairs in the classroom, I can take you their if you’d like.”

“No I can do it.” another unfamiliar voice says to reveal another women, “Hi I’m Hannah, Dani has not stopped talking about you since you called a couple days ago. It feels like we already know you!” she says and you laugh.

“Well that’s Dani for you!” you reply and the two laugh, “But yes thank you that will be lovely.”

You follow Hannah up the stairs as she makes small talk with you. Until you finally reach the classroom and she knocks on the door interrupting Dani’s small lesson on poetry.

“Dani, you have a visitor.” Hannah says with a smile and Dani squeals before hopping off the desk and running towards you.

“Y/N!” she yells engulfing you in a hug.

“Dani!” you yell back as you wrap the arms around the girl.

She looked different, but not in a bad way. In a good way. Her eyes looked a little brighter and her whole vibe just seemed to be way more positive. You couldn’t be happier that she found peace within herself and you wish she would’ve taken you along. Because while she ran away from her problems, you were still stuck with the gloominess that your family brings everyday.

“I’d like you to meet these two,” she says releasing you from the hug as she gestures to the two children sitting at the desks, “Flora and Miles this is my best friend Y/N.”

You give them small waves as they smile politely waving back at them, “It’s a pleasure to meet you guys!”

“And you!” they say in unison.

“You two most have so much to catch up on. I will watch the kids for the rest of the day so you guys can catch up.” Hannah says and Dani’s about object before Hannah cuts her off, “It’s no worries Dani really. Enjoy your day off. I will see you guys in the kitchen later so we can help Owen cook.” she sends a small smile as Dani thanks her.

Dani leads you to her room as she closes the door softly, “I just want to apologize. I know running off wasn’t the answer and leaving you behind it killed me. It physically killed me, but I just needed to get out of there Y/N. The guilt ate me alive and I know I should’ve talked to you, but it was your brother. He died because I didn’t want to marry him.” she says and you let out a small sigh.

“I should be angry at you, but I’m not for running off. You are just as important to me as Eddie. And I know you were struggling with his death and I completely understand needing to get away. I’m not mad about running. I’m mad about you ignoring me.” you reply, “You’re my best friend and pretty much a sister to me and the fact that you felt like you couldn’t talk to me really hurt.”

She sits down next to you and lets out another sigh, “I know I’m sorry. I just didn't know how to face you. I couldn’t face you. I was so scared and I didn't know if you’d be mad at me for killing him.” her voice cracks and you immediately shake your head.

“No, no, Dani. You did not kill Eddie you know that. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t blame you for any of that.” you say and immediately pull her into a hug.

You rub her back lightly letting her let it all out. When her sniffles finally stop she looks at you with sad eyes.

“I’ve missed you.” she says and you smile back at her.

“i’ve missed you too.” you reply sending her a small smile, “So on a much lighter note, what’s the deal with the gardener?” you ask intrigued.

She sends you a small smirk, “Jamie? She’s a tough shell to crack, has a big ol’ ‘I don’t care about people’ front, but in reality she’s a little softie. Why? Do you think she’s cute?”

“Maybe I do.” you reply matching her smirk.

“Well we got two weeks to make her fall in love with you.” she shoots back and you release a laugh pushing her softly.

“Yeah, like we’re gonna do long distance.” you respond shaking you head.

The rest of the day goes about like that. Her endless teasing along with just catching up on everything we’ve missed the past few months. Now you guys were standing in the kitchen along with Owen and Hannah as the kids played outside.

Jamie came walking in and bee-lined straight for the fridge, “Do we not have any food?”

“We’re making it right now,” Hannah replies and she groans before grabbing the cookie tin from the cabinet and eating one as she leaned against the counter.

“Are you staying for dinner Jamie?” Dani asks and Jamie nods, “Yes it’s gonna be like a family dinner! I’ll make tea and coffee for Y/N!”

“No!” everyone including you shout in unison and she looks a little taken aback.

“Wait Poppins made you bad coffee once?” Jamie asks and you nod.

“Only every morning before school when we went to high school together.” you respond laughing softly.

“Why didn’t you just not accept it after the first one?” Owen asks looking intrigued in your story.

“Because my parents gave her a ride to school everyday and when we got to the 10th grade I could drive and she couldn’t. So I took her to school everyday and brought her home, so as a way to thank me she made me coffee. I couldn’t deny it. By the time graduation came I got used to the taste.” you tell one of your favorite stories about Dani as she just stands there sheepishly.

Everyone lets out a laugh while Hannah goes over to make everyone a tea and you a coffee.

“Any more stories about Poppins?” Jamie asks looking at you with that same smirk she showed you when you first met.

“Hmm...where do I even begin?” you ponder jokingly and Dani shoves you lightly.

“I’ve got some good stories about Y/N! If you want to hear those Jamie.” Dani says suggestively and Jamie smiles.

“Oh I would actually love to!” Jamie says and you scoff, your mouth hanging wide open.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The next week continued like that, slight flirting with Jamie that kept getting more and more obvious to everyone around you. But none of you acted on it, why? Because both of you knew that you’re going to leave soon and why start something if it’s not going to last.

However, to everyone around you it was frustrating! They all see the tension and how happy you guys make each other, but none of you want to do anything about it for something completely out of your control.

You and Jamie were hanging out in the garden as she was teaching you how to pull the flowers out safely. Owen, Dani, and Hannah were sitting on the side sipping on some lemonade. The children were in the city with their Uncle Henry for the next week so it was nice little break.

You let out a loud laugh as Jamie tickled your sides for teasing her.

“God, can’t they just get together already?” Dani asks and Owen and Hannah murmur in agreement.

“Jamie has worked here for as long as I can remember and this is the first time I’ve seen her actually happy.” Hannah says and smiles at the two girls.

Dani lets out a sigh before sipping her lemonade, “I haven’t seen her this happy since her brother died.”

“Maybe we should do something. It’d be sad to let Y/N leave and they aren’t able to act on them because of their fear.” Owen chimes in.

“What did you have in mind?” Dani asks eyeing him curiously.

“I have just the idea!”

- - - - - - - - - - -

You made your way down the stairs to dinner after showering up and dressing into something more nice. Dani said that since the kids are gone we’re gonna have a themed dinner party. And by party she meant the small family you guys have created in the week you were there: Owen, Hannah, Dani, Jamie, and you.

When you got downstairs the dining area was lit with candles as a beautiful bouquet of flowers sat at the middle. The table already set with plates and forks. Jamie was the next one who came down and at the sight of her your mouth dropped.

She was drop dead gorgeous and you couldn’t help, but stare at the beauty she is.

“Close your mouth darling, you’re gonna catch flies.” she says tapping your chin lightly as she walks by.

“I’m sorry, you just you look gorgeous.” you whisper still staring at her in awe and she smiles softly at you. In the candlelit room you see a faint blush on her cheeks, “Oh I’m sorry! Where are my manners?” you ask getting up from your seat and pulling out the one directly across from you.

She sits down gracefully as you catch a wiff of her scent. She smelled of fresh flowers and somehow woodsy at the same time. Whatever she smelled like you were intoxicated by it.

“Where is the rest of them?” she asks and I shrug.

“I expected to see everyone else by now, but they haven’t come down yet...” your gaze drifts at the small movement of someone walking in behind Jamie.

“Y/N? What are you-oh my god...” Jamie replies.

Dani walks into the room wearing a waitress uniform while Hannah comes in wearing a sophisticated coat and tail with a violin in hand.

“What is going on?” you look at the two girls and they just smirk while Jamie looked just as confused as you were.

“Good evening Ms. Y/N and Ms. Jamie. Me and our staff are so very happy you lovely ladies chose us as your dinner reservation for your first date.” Dani says in her super bad, yet super cute British accent.

Jamie and you look at each other, both eyes wide as you guys realize what’s going on. All three of them literally went out of their way to force into a date.

“Tonight our renowned chef Owen has cooked you guys up a three course meal. All of these recipes he created all on his own with the help of his handy dandy Jamie Oliver cookbook. Now can I interest you ladies into anything to drink?” she asks and you look at each other and laugh.

“Um Y/L/N, would you like anything particular?” Jamie asks you and you smile before shaking your head, “Alright can we have a bottle of your aged pinot noir?”

Dani nods before leaving the dining area to go grab the wine. The smell of Owen’s cooking automatically makes your stomach rumble in anticipation as the scent makes its way into the room. Hannah begins to play the violin softly in the background.

You and Jamie take a look at each other before bursting out laughing. Both in shock and awe at how far your friends went to get you guys on this date, “Did you know about this?” you ask her and she shakes her head.

“No not at all, but I really wish I thought of it.” she replies smiling softly and you’re about to reply when Dani comes back into the room.

“Your bottle m’ladies,” Dani says placing the two wine glasses down in front of you.

She pops open the cork before pouring you both an even amount before smiling softly. Owen comes into the room with two plates in hand. He’s wearing a big white chef hat with a full on chef’s outfit.

“Hello lovebirds, for your first course you have one of my personal favorite starters Spanish-style prawns with fennel,” he says placing both plates down in front of us, “I hope you enjoy.” him and Dani bow before making their way back to the kitchen.

The prawns sat a top a beautiful tomato sauce with sprinkles of fennel and parsley mixed throughout all of it. As lemons and bread garnished the rest of the plate. The smell was absolutely amazing.

You pick up your glass of wine and raise it to her, “To the best friends that we could ask for. This date would have never happened without their help. And to us, whatever this is.” she smiles at you before clinking together your two glasses.

You both take a bite of your food and it’s literally heaven on Earth. You both let out a small little groan at how unbelievably good this is. After you guys finished eating you both turned and started to have a nice conversation.

“So what was your first impression of me?” you ask her and she smiles to herself softly before replying.

“I thought damn we have another hot American on our hands.” she says and you both release a laugh, “Us first meeting was very short, but I felt like I got a good grasp on how you were, but there was still some mystery there that I wasn’t quite sure of. I was intrigued. And yours?”

“I thought ‘damn does every girl in London look like her because if so, when can I move??’” she shakes her head as you both laugh again, “But no I found your sense of humor right up my alley and I guess I was also intrigued. You put up such a cold front, it didn’t seem like you quite liked me.”

“Oh I liked you...way more than I’d like to admit.” she whispers and you smile.

Owen and Dani come back with a bowl in their hands, “Now we have your second course of Irish stew. It is sliced lamb chops with finely chopped onions, carrots, and potatoes. Enjoy.” Owen says before hurrying back to the kitchen.

Dani smiles at the two of us, “More wine ladies?”

“Yes please.” you respond shaking your head at your best friend.

She poured out both our glasses before wiggling her eyebrows, smiling giddily.

“Y/N you have a wine mustache!” Dani whisper yells before taking your napkin and wiping it away like your mom would usually do.

You smack her hand lightly, “Dani!” Jamie lets out a hearty laugh before Dani runs back into the kitchen with Owen.

Hannah took a small little wine break from playing the violin. She smiles at the two of you with a small smirk on her face. We continue to eat the delicious food that Owen made while having small conversations in between each bite.

You both finish your food and continue a game of 20 questions.

“Hmm, why do you think you’re here?” Jamie asks as the 19th question.

“Here as in London or here as in life in general?” you ask and she laughs softly.

“Life in general.” she confirms and you nod.

“That’s deep,” you say laughing softly, “But um I guess I’m here to make people happy. Anything I can do I do to make the people care about happy and safe.”

“Am I one of those people?” she asks and you smile at her.

“Is that your last question?” you ask raising your eyebrow and she nods, “Yes you are. You know besides Dani because she doesn’t count since she’s like a sister to me. You’re definitely on top. I’ve grown to really like being around you and who you are. My head is telling me that you’re a bad idea, but I think my heart knows that I really like you.” you say and you take her hand in yours.

“What’s your last question?” she whispers back to you, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” you whisper and her small smile widens.

“I think I could manage that.” she says her smile reaching from ear to ear.

You get up from your seat and she does the same. She takes your face in her hands before pressing her lips against yours. Her lips are just as soft as you imagine. No matter how many times you’ve dreamt or fantasized about this, you finally get the chance, and it’s so much better than in your dreams.

Both of you pull apart at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You see Owen, Dani, and Hannah standing there with wide smiles on their faces.

“Finally!” Hannah yells, “Do you know how much tension was in this room?! I was just sitting here playing the violin awkwardly!”

We all laugh and Jamie presses a small kiss to your cheek. Owen held a cake in his hands as he placed it on the table.

“Your last meal a strawberry and cream sponge cake!” he says and you laugh at him.

“Sit down and eat with us!” you suggest and they all look at each other before Dani says.

“Don’t have to ask me twice!” she cuts herself a slice and sits down at where Jamie’s spot once was.

You all sit down with each other. Jamie on your right side as she kept a hold of your hand at all times. All of you sat there enjoying the rest of the night laughing and smiling. Jamie leans in close and gives you a small peck.

#jamie #jamie the gardener #jamie the haunting of bly manor #jamie imagine #jamie x reader #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting series

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x OC)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about Maggie’s past. Maggie and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Maggie playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love.

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily.

“Yo, Brooksy!”

Spencer stepped back from Maggie, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Maggie. “So, are we going out or what?”

Maggie groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Maggie chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Maggie stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Maggie was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor.

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Maggie’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Maggie’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Maggie and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool.

“Maggie is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Maggie insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.

“The field trip!” Maggie turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously.

“So many things,” Sam baited.

Maggie covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening.

“Okay, so many things happened,” Maggie started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Maggie composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured.

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Maggie agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in.

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Maggie turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.”

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Maggie clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Maggie dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles.

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Maggie lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space.

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Maggie lamented to him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Maggie complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first.

“You know what’s annoying?”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Maggie might have been with before him.

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Maggie had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored.

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

“Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Maggie slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee.

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Maggie with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Maggie with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs.

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy.

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door.

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips.

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.”

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again.

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

“I knew it!” Michael cried.

He wrapped himself around Maggie’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Maggie forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Brooks.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Brooks’ boyfriend.”

Maggie’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?”

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Maggie into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Hen!” Michael called.

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him.

Maggie tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”