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delphispoeticals · 2 years

Text

EN GARDE

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: regency courting etiquette, gender roles/sexism, use of ‘lady’ and ‘she/her’ and ‘woman’, flirting, benny being absolutely in love with you, improper smooching, few innuendos, a smidge of heavy petting.

word count: 5.6k

blurb: where you care too much about what your mother thinks, much to your siblings dismay, it almost guides all of your decisions. but when you rely on what you want... you find it to be rather rewarding — starting with a simple game of fencing. En Garde.

a/n: i’ve written so many drafts, but i think im really gonna post this one lol. i haven’t written goodies about men in a WHILE so forgive me if it’s bad you guys :((

“Mama is going to have more than a word with you when she finds out about this, Antoine.”

“Wouldn’t you rather participate in an activity you’re actually good at, than just… Promenading around the yard?” He scoffed, using an overdone posh accent.

The mama you shared was very particular when it came to the season of your debut. You happened to be the first daughter of the Sinclair Household, out of two, to debut into society. Which meant, all eyes were on you – technically. Coming from a well-renowned family, many people held many expectations for you. And, the Ton couldn’t wait to deliberate about someone who slightly strayed from tradition and normalcy. That could easily dampen the reputation your family built through years of networking.

It should also be mentioned that your father is the ultimate source for how the Ton perceives you – he’s a Marquess, anointed by the Queen. So, maybe it wasn’t only high society you had to look out for.

It was the lovely lady who governed, her grace.

Which makes this rendezvous, with your favorite suitor, all the more complicated. Antoine was very adamant about ensuring your happiness. As your brother, that was his job – so he claims. Antoine, is a very generous elder brother – honestly, better than most. Better than his own friends who happened to share the title. The season had only begun a month ago, but he’d noticed that you hadn’t caught the eyes of anyone in particular. Your family was high enough in society to at least attempt a love match – he knew you deserved that much.

So, he examined the pool of eligible men around him. Choosing to ignore their overbearing sexual history, since he himself was questionable in that department. His character was separate from his reputation with women – which wasn’t that thick of a book, by the way. Antoine was a good man who just so happened to love the company of beautiful women. He was simply a product of what society enabled – and there were more like him.

He didn’t want to be biased, so he began with Mr. Lumley. He was an attractive young man whose record was clear. Mr. Lumley had already called for you, offering you flowers and such. But, you weren’t completely sold. You accompanied him to a ball hosted by the Abernathy’s, but no flutters were felt. And, you were determined to feel those flutters.

Next, he jumped to his closest friends – the Bridgerton’s. Whom of which you met on plenty of occasions. Antoine didn’t care to consider the Viscount, being that he was familiar with how he desired his future. His first consideration was Colin. He was kind and harbored that love for adventure that you did. However, he notice a subtle glance he gave to Penelope Featherington and decided not to tread on that territory. Finally, the artist of the family, Benedict. Antoine had noticed the two of you got on nicely – more than nicely. That’s when he began to plant his seeds of love – he calls it.

When your brother found a trashed sketch of your face… He knew his meddling worked.

Antoine is more than positive he’d helped you find your match. So it didn’t matter what your mama thought, or even the Ton. He was a genius.

In a little over forty-eight hours, Lady Bridgerton is planning to host a ball at Aubrey Hall. You were invited as a noble guest, being that you were being courted by her second eldest. And, there you were standing walking down the backyard steps of the manor with your brother – complaining. He had proposed a date to your potential lover. A date that isn’t very ladylike of you to participate in – even if you were fantastic at the art of it. Your mother had come a day later than the two of you, and she’ll be in Kent sometime this day. If she saw you…

“This isn’t an activity for a future wife, Antoine.” You may have been quoting your mother, but her words often rang true. And, even if it wasn’t it’s not like you had the reigns, as a woman, to tempt fate. Spinster age was around the corner.

Fencing. What a lovely sport. If only you could proudly proclaim your love for it.

You were wearing the same beige frock you wore when playing with your siblings. It had long billowing sleeves, but the bodice was still firm to your bust. Stylishly laced at its edges. “Since when did you care what future wives did?” He grumbled, dressed in his white fencing attire, holding both of your swords. “You knew Benedict before your debut-”

“And he wasn’t interested until my debut!”

“That changes nothing, y/n. If he didn’t like you we wouldn’t be here now. And, we most certainly wouldn’t be walking across a field to go fencing behind bush-lining.”

A nervous sigh fell from your lips, as you waddled across the grass. The pair of you were meeting Benedict and his brothers a little ways from the back of Aubrey Hall. “The one thing you can trust is my word, sister. I would never steer you wrong.” He patted your shoulder, sliding his arm along them to pull you closer.

The sun was blinding your eyes as you approached the shaded area, fortunately, shaded. One of your arms slides around the middle of his back, leaning on him to gather your strength. You’ve never been the type to be insecure – maybe this season was messing with you. Not once have you ever been hesitant to show off your skills. The stress of being a debutante, even while officially courting, was changing you. Was this the path to becoming a woman – watering down your passions, or feeling bad if you didn’t?

Smile.

“Lord and Lady Sinclair,” Anthony spoke, bowing his head shallowly, while the pair of you approached. The two other brothers do the same.

“Anthony,” Antoine boyishly grinned.

“Viscount Bridgerton,” You disconnected from your brother to dip coyly. “Mr. Bridgerton… Mr. Bridgerton.” Your eyes flickered from Colin to Benedict – the artist that held your heart between his hands. Antoine joked about with the boys, patting their shoulders playfully.

Benedict leaned down to speak lowly near your ear. “How come you didn’t tell me you knew the art of fencing?” He raised an eyebrow. The sensation of his warm breath on the side of your neck and the shell of your earlobe. A dry giggle left your lips, looking up at the tallest brother. In truth, it was because of your mother’s nagging voice in your head. But, you couldn’t share that. Of course, not.

“It simply never came up – slipped my mind, forgive me.”

“No need to ask for forgiveness…” Benedict leaned closer to your ear once more. “I already knew. You can thank your brother for that.”

In response, exhaled forcefully, glaring at the back of Antoine’s head. Thanks a lot, now I look like a liar. Rolled your eyes, stalking towards him with a bit more ferocity than you walked in with. Anthony nodded his head in your direction, causing him to turn around with an absent mind – looking directly above your head. “Antoine!” You sharply called. He immediately looked down, meeting your height. “Are we fencing or not – we do not have all day.” You pull the fencing sword from his hand, turning on your heels.

“Ah, my bad, sister. We shall begin… Benedict.” Antoine looked at the man standing back behind you, a smirk curling on his lips. He prepared to step forth, but you held your hand out. Your palm hovering over his chest.

“No, not yet. Antoine…” You pointed with your dulled sword. “You first.” Benedict’s eyes never leave your frame, watching as you command his attention. He takes a few steps back, wandering to sit on the bench along with the other Bridgertons.

Antoine inhales, hanging his head briefly with a mischievous smirk. “Ah… There’s the y/n I like to see.”

“En Garde, brother.”

You place your non-dominant hand on your hip, using the other towards your opponent. Your eyes were carefully trained on Antoine, squinting intimidatingly, positioning your feet. He readies, doing just the same. Your brother and you had been in this position plenty of times, and often they ended with him laying in the grass. Rarely ever you. “Antoine, remember, this is your sister – she is a lady. Take it easy on her.” Anthony teasingly called, glancing over towards you.

A scoff fell from your lips as you lunged toward your brother, colliding his sword with yours. “Save the insults for when you’re on the end of my sword, Lord Bridgerton.” Antoine lunged toward you, but you jumped back avoiding the contact of the dull sword. You hummed, cockily swinging your weapon. The sound of the swords clashing filled the space, with little grunts from the both of you. Antoine managed to get two taps against your waist, and you managed to get one on his. However, as per, he ended up kissing the grass.

You laughed in victory, bowing to the small audience. “Who’s next?”

Minutes flew by as you tackled both Anthony and Colin Bridgerton – successfully knocking them to the ground. You actually had to go against the eldest brother thrice before he completely gave up. Which only earned giggles from Benedict as he lounged on the bench.

“Do not laugh yet, brother. Laugh when you prevail that storm of a woman – Lady y/n, I mean. My apologies.”

“Your mistake was purposeful, Lord Bridgerton.”

You responded, as your eyes followed Benedict as he positioned in front of you – sword in hand. A competitive twinkle glimmered in his blue eyes as he straightened his posture. “I do apologize for my brother’s — they’re not known for challenging their opponents.”

“Lies! Lies, you tell!” Colin exclaimed, pointing at the artist.

With a chuckle, you circled that vertically gifted man. “And… You are?” You raised a single eyebrow, hitting his sword with your own. The trace of a smile being left on your lips, batting your eyelashes at him. “A gentleman shall never go back on his word. Are you going to challenge me, Mr. Bridgerton?”

“Only if you wish, my love.”

A beat.

Your eyes widened, lips parting in awe. But, easily your eyebrows deepened in determination. He was playing dirty. Using his sparkling eyes and boyish smirk to dismantle your throne. “Charm — a devilish trick. Don’t let his advances disturb you, y/n.” Antoine supported, leaning on his knees intently.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Benedict lunged, but you dodged. Your eyes were glued to his eyes. Honestly, if your families weren’t near — you’d probably toss the dull weapons to the side and pounce on the man. Benedict didn’t have to speak to charm you. A simple glance was all you needed. “Ouch.” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning pain. “I would hope that my charm disturbs you a little.”

You raise your eyebrows, tapping your swords again. “Disturbs me or flatters me?”

“Perhaps, both.” He pauses, as you lunge toward him. Barely grazing his arm with the thin blade. You curse under your breath, biting the inside of your mouth. “To leave you utterly enamored is, in fact, a goal of mine.”

Hm. You hum, smiling with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. Technically, he’s met that goal on many occasions — he just couldn’t know that for sure. “Is it, now? How’s that working out for you?” He lunges towards you, the sounds of your swords clashing multiple times. Your non-dominant hand gripped the skirts of your dress as you backed up into the treeline.

Benedict shrugs, backing up and gathering his breath. “Fairly well, I believe.”

“You think?”

“I know-“

His voice was cut off by the pinched tone of a stressed mama. You immediately freeze, pivoting and holding the sword behind your back. There she was stomping across the grass, with your younger sister following behind, begrudgingly. “Mama,” You fought a frown with a smile. Benedict had slowly walked behind you, taking the sword from your hands. Thankfully, you sent him a smile.

“Mama, you’ve arrived in Kent! Welcome.” Antoine tried, standing from the bench.

“Marchioness Sinclair, it is truly a pleasure,” Anthony spoke, elbowing his brother to speak. “Truly.” Colin co-signed, bowing his head.

Your mother was fuming, smoke was practically coming from her ears. “What is the meaning of this nonsense, y/n?” She questioned, deliberately. You adjusted how you stood, looking back at Antoine. He shrugs, trying to think of something on his feet that could save the both of you.

Then, he stepped forward — Benedict, not your brother. “I asked her to join my brothers and I for a round…” He glanced down at you. “Or two. I heard she was quite a force to be reckoned with when it came to fencing, and I was only curious.” His eyes gleamed whenever they were set on you, examining your uncomfortable stature.

She eased, sighing. Her scrutinizing eyes softened at the words of the young man. Even so, her presence spoke loudly for her. She was a Marchioness. “Is this true, y/n?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” You may have answered too quickly. “Mr. Bridgerton graciously thought to include me, based on mere hearsay… Very polite of him.” You nodded, sharing a tight-lipped smile with your mother. She crossed her arms over her satin bodice, squinting her eyes — glancing from you to Antoine.

“Hm. Very well.” A beat.

Her eyes landed on each party, suspiciously.

“I’ll be waiting to hear of your victories, y/n.” She turned around, gliding back towards the manor. Your sister hesitantly turns with her. She sent vibrant thumbs up, and a theatrical wink in her wake before then. Once she’d gotten to a legitimate distance, you groaned, stuffing your face in your hands.

Antoine shut his eyes tightly, pinching his nose. “Mama has perfect timing. Absolutely perfect.” You nodded, running your hands down your face.

“Absolutely perfect.” You mutter, allowing your arms to slap by your sides. Hesitantly, you turned towards Benedict, offering an energyless smile. “Thank you for stepping in…”

He nodded, holding his hands behind his back gallantly. “Oh, I would do it a thousand more times if needed. Of course, Lady y/n.” His eyes glanced around the area seeing the damper her mother’s arrival placed on the group. Anthony scratched the back of his head, whispering to Colin. “Why don’t we resume our game later? I can see that your mama’s interruption has compromised the mood.”

You chuckled, pushing a piece of your curls behind your ear. “Didn’t she… Yes, we may resume at a much later time. I might’ve worked up a bit of an appetite, to be honest.”

“Appetite, you say? I’m beyond famished!” Colin began stalking past everyone, heading towards the house. You suppressed a laugh, holding your fingers over your lips. Anthony and Antoine followed after him, nearly forgetting about both you and the artist.

Benedict offered his arm, sharing a charming smile. “How does cucumber sandwiches with classic English tea sound?”

“Splendid, of course!” You marveled, sliding your arm through his. Adoringly holding his gaze, as you approached the large manor behind the boys.

…

Julianne, your sister, sat in the room you shared flipping through the pages of the books Eloise lent her. “Ugh, can’t I have a love like Mr. Bingley and Jane…” She pouted, wiping fake tears from her cheeks. You snickered, taking the remaining pins from your hair, and placing them in the bowl on the vanity.

Turning in the plushy seat, you leaned on the back of the chair. A wistful expression adorning your face. Julianne shuts the book as she couldn’t help but feel the emotions leaking from your pores. “What happens to be on your mind, sister?” She adjusts herself on the bed, where she turns her feet to where the pillows are.

You shake your head, pursing your lips. “I’m not sure…”

“Ah, well, that’s believable.” She remarks, kicking her feet back and forth. “You’re not sure what’s on your mind.”

Abruptly, you stand from the chair, walking to the long window that serves a view of the grand backyard of the manor. “I am realizing, I think, that I am past merely liking Mr. Bridgerton.” You paused, blinking as you were slowly coming to terms with your unruly emotions. Sure, you’ve said before that he held your heart — but, he may really be holding your heart. Delicately, to add. He was a very gentle man. “I may be in love with him, Julianne.”

She gasped, holding her hands intertwined under her chin. “He’s your Mr. Bingley!” Julianne cheered, swinging her legs off the bed.

“Not literally. But, yes — if that makes me the prettiest Bennett sister, Jane.”

“You…” She narrows her eyes, before slightly glancing out the window. Then, her eyes widened tremendously, pointing quickly at the figure wandering in the dark. You were still looking at her harboring a teasing grin, but her attention elsewhere caught your eye. “Oh, Blast! Is that Mr. Bridgerton just there?”

He held a candle as light, but he slowly wandered the field and garden. Palming some of the bush fixtures. You gasp, pushing her to the side of the window, while you stumble to the other side — where you’re out of sight. “You must meet him down there.”

“I mustn’t! If mama catches me-“

“y/n, you are about to be a married woman — who cares what mama thinks, good God.”

You inhale, furrowing your eyebrows. The opinion of your mother has grown since your debut. Feeling as if you had to succumb to this unattainable role. Your sibling had more faith in your betrothal than you did — which was odd considering your situation. You pondered — should you really go down there? What were you going to say? “I will keep watch for you.” Julianne offered, with a spreading smile. “Just don’t do anything too scandalous.”

Smiling, you grabbed the thin blue robe that went over your white nightgown. “No promises,”

That was a jest. Total jest.

Grabbing a candlelight, you scurried down to the back. Managing to be as quiet as a mouse on your mild journey through the manors. Your eyes caught the sight of the back of his disheveled hair, slowly maneuvering around. Hesitantly, you stepped onto the low vibrant grass. Glancing over your shoulder for any prying eyes — praying your mother didn’t catch you in this position. You wanted to be married organically, when he asks your father for your hand.

When you’d gotten closer enough to him, you called his name. “Mr. Bridgerton,” You stated, holding out the candlelight. “It’s quite late, is it not?”

He slowly turned around, as if he was expecting you. A smile grew on his lips. “It is quite late… I just desired fresh air — nightly fresh air.”

“Ah, yes. Nightly fresh air — the best form of air on the market.”

He was wearing loose-fitting clothes, just as you were since it was after hours. His eyes donned your frame, examining the length of your hair and how different it was compared to your daily looks. The effortlessness of your beauty rendered him shocked — enamored. Perhaps, even disturbed. “Turn down your light.” He spoke.

Your eyebrows deepened, confused by his words. “Huh? It’s dark, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Would you want to risk your mama seeing you and me unchaperoned… At night?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you considered his words. That was the last thing you wanted. “Perhaps, not.” You took in a hefty breath, blowing out the candle with an innocent expression. Benedict chuckled, doing the same, then holding out his hand for you. The sound of your heart thumped in your ears, almost making you dizzy. And with a courageous inhale, you placed your hand in his.

He could take you anywhere and you wouldn’t dare complain. But, you couldn’t help but question.

A toothy smile graced your lips, his hand gripping yours bare. For the first time without some sort of glove. “Where are you taking me?” His long legs were no match for yours. Long strides quickly pulling you to wherever the destination may have been.

He looked over his shoulder. “Do we not have a round to finish?” Your lips gaped open, your other hand reaching toward his arm. Halting your steps, you pulled him to a stop. The grin on your lips was impossible to wipe off.

Breathily, you inhaled. “Did you plan this, Mr. Bridgerton?” The candlelight was being held by your pinky, aching from the weight. But, the contact of your hand against his firm arm was so comforting. He was so comforting.

“I did not, My Lady. However, I did wish to see you tonight.”

His wishes came true.

“And, I also wished for you not to be so formal with me. Please, call me Benedict.” His much larger hand, squeezed yours, pulling you closer to his tall frame. Your pointer finger tapped along his bicep, batting the long eyelashes your mother gave you — sincerely.

You grinned, with your bottom lip stuck under your teeth. Trying to resist the size, but it was impossible. His light eyes glistened with something that was unfamiliar to you, but you failed to fully catch it. All you noticed was that his gaze gave you a bodily reaction. Your chest and cheeks grew hot, where his hand met yours, a sensation tingling from the contact. “Only if you call me y/n and nothing else.”

Benedict chuckled, as your chests touched, looking down into your mind-controlling gaze. “And nothing else? So… My love happens to be off the table?” He raises his eyebrow, eyes glancing towards your lips.

“If it isn’t true. But if it is — call me that however many times you please.” Your eyes glanced toward his lips, but you stepped back, glancing in the direction he was taking you. “I believe you were taking me somewhere…”

His lips parted, but he quickly recovered. Nodding, and following through with his original plan — which was warping as time progressed. The pair of you had been attracted to each other since the moment you met. More so, Benedict than you. He just assumed that it would never happen, considering his closest friend was your brother. He didn’t expect Antoine to be so helpful to both of you.

But, now, his attraction to you has skyrocketed. From being around you so much, studying your face, spending long nights thinking about your face… And body. Benedict is nearly spent. While he wasn’t trying to rush, he genuinely wanted you. All he needed was a few minutes alone—

“Did you really set all this up… All for hopes?” You inquired, seeing all the swords poked into a holder and gloves for the sport set beside them.

“All for hopes… All for you. I mean a game is not finished until-“

“It is finished.” You mused, releasing his hand and approaching the weapons. With a giggle, you pulled the glove that was for your dominant hand on. Plucking the dull sword from the holder. “You are a thoughtful sort. I’ll say, you may have met your goal, Benedict.” You walked backward, watching as he gathered his gear. “Consider me utterly enamored.”

You were fluttering. It was the flutter.

He pulled his glove on, taking his sword and taking a few steps back. “As am I, my love. I only hope that doesn’t damper the competition.”

Benedict truly had you swooned. If you were willing to give in completely, the competition would be over. Or, at least you would've wanted it to have been over. You did have, unfortunately, one more man to defeat. “And risk my ultimate victory? Never!” You pointed your sword towards the man, smirking excitedly. Chest rising with anticipation. “En Garde, kind sir.”

He tapped your sword with his twice, before lunging. The game between the pair of you had gone on longer than it had with the others. Sparing longing glances, causing either one of you to stumble. The both of you attempted to dismantle one another with flirtation, but you deemed yourself to be much stronger than expected — the both of you. It surely was torture, though.

Then, all of a sudden, Benedict threw his sword to the ground. His chest heaving up and down — eyes stuck to you, unable to look away for even a second. You dropped your arm, letting it hit your hip still clenching your sword. The competitive sneer dropped from your lips, a look of expectation adorning your face. It seems he has reached his peak of keeping his distance from you.

“You’re an insufferable opponent…” He muttered, but it was already so quiet. Something in particular leaking from his words. You were so stunned that you could only stand there — in utter shock.

A breath flew from your lips. “Why’d you stop? You might’ve stolen my victory.”

“I wouldn’t ever want to steal your victory.” He approached you, resorting you to backing up. Choosing your steps carefully. Your hand rose, the corner of your lips curling weakly. He stopped advancing, holding his hands near his head. “Go on… Take me, y/n.”

Something in your gut told you his words had meant something else. His body language told you his words meant something else. Uncharted territory for you. The tip of your sword prodded at his abdomen. “I win.” You whisper, fluttering in places that have yet to be explored. He pushed the blade away with two fingers, resuming his approach. Remaining in your place, your arm drops, still holding the sword in your hand.

He had entered your space, his hand drifting down your clothed arm. Leading to the gloved hand that held the dull weapon. Your breath hitching in your throat. Benedict pulled the handle from your fingers, keeping his striking gaze on you. He tossed it to the side carelessly, then pulled the leather glove from your hand. “You win.” He whispered, aligning your hand with his.

This touch was different — more intimate than you ever experienced. It set your skin ablaze, it made you… It made you really want him. This feeling of want was different, nothing you’ve ever felt before. His other hand found solace at your waist, pulling you closer to him. You had no choice but to oblige, stumbling forward. “I must apologize,” He began, darting his eyes in an upside-down triangle. “y/n, I simply cannot contain myself anymore.”

Neither can I.

“You have convicted my soul. You have since the moment I laid eyes on you — that evening, only a year ago, where your brother introduced us.” Benedict enunciated, his thumb caressing your ribcage through your thin nightgown. You gasp, gripping the hand that was in yours. It couldn’t be true. Benedict Bridgerton pining after you before your debut. He was an adventurist – a rake, who also did art. You’ve heard whispers about him and his brothers… And your brother. How they wanted to push off marriage until they’ve made themselves useful, some more than others.

Were you being bamboozled? How on God’s green earth were you getting this close to this… Unattainable man. Convicted. You have convicted his soul – sounds like the words of a true poet.

“When Antoine and your father granted me the blessing in pursuing you wholly and completely…” He shook his head sincerely. “I have never felt so honored.” Wow. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes watering – the experience seemed to be too real. And, he continues. “y/n, you have bewitched me. There has not been a day where you’ve been absent from my mind. Not a second.”

“Benedict,” You spoke, your tone in utter surprise. He was sharing more characteristics with Mr. Darcy than with Mr. Bingley. He must’ve been doing this on purpose, he has indulged in the works of Jane Austen nearly as much as you.

His hands caress up your arm, leaving your hand, finding comfort on your jaw. His thumb grazes your cheek lovingly. The artist struggles – tempted to just crash his lips against yours, but he couldn’t just yet. You blinked slow, wishing he’d lay himself upon you. It’s not like you could really formulate your words eloquently. You placed your hand on his elbow, leaning into his touch with need. It felt exhilarating to be touched by him – you wanted more. “Ben…” All you could do was repeat his name, dripping with unfathomed desire. You both breathed heavily, the sounds coming together as a union – nearly breathing each other’s air. His nose brushed yours, just before his lips plotted on the tip of it. A whine pulled from your throat in anticipation.

“y/n,” He spoke your name like a prayer, wistful – snagged from his diaphragm.

Slowly, he leaned down to her hovering his lips over yours. As if you’d done this before, your lips parted. The tip of your tongue grazing your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but hold your breath, breasts swelling from your loose bodice.

Pulling you flush to him by your waist, he finally and gently, places his lips upon yours. You release air from your nose, sliding your hand around his neck, your fingertips touching the shorter curls of his hair. Flutter. Flutter. Flutter! He kissed you with no matter of haste, he was savoring your touch. His hand remains in the divot of your waist, barely threatening to leave that spot.

Fireworks were exploding in the skies of your mind. Lips moving along with his, slowly drifting into a mode of passion. His grip intensified on your waist, wishing he could push you closer to him – as if you weren’t already touching. All it took was a hum to release between your lips for him to walk you back into a tree. When your back hit the bark, you yelped in surprise. Your attention is still completely on him, hands running through his dark shiny hair. Being overcome with impulse, you gripped his hair from the root – cousin a groan to erupt from his throat.

Benedict pulled back, the ends of his lips curling. “You… You are something.”

“Come here,” You party whine and demand, tugging him back to your lips.

He wouldn’t dare deny you, meeting your lips feverishly. His hands had grown to be more bold groping at your body. His intimate touch was beginning to make you heat up in nether places. Sounds erupting from your vocals that you have never heard in full. This would be quite the circumstance to be caught in – face-making with the man you are courting. Rather compromising.

But, it felt so good.

This is why it took a lot for you to pull away.

Breathing heavily, placing your hand on his chest – desperately wanting to tear the loose shirt from his body. “This… This is improper.” You heaved, a coy smile stretched on your lips. Benedict breathed just the same, his thumb wiping the corner of your lips adoringly.

“It is… But to hell with decorum.”

You laughed, caressing the back of his neck – wanting nothing more than to be entangled with him for all eternity. “Mind your tongue, Benedict.” You playfully scolded, looking up at him through your thick eyelashes. The softness of his untamed strands comforted you, subsiding – not erasing – your unbearable coil of desire.

“ I am minding my tongue…” He leaned forward, wanting to kiss you once more.

“We should get some sleep. I’m sure we are going to need as much energy as possible to bare my mother.” Your hand feels the strength of his throat, accidentally running over her adam’s apple as you descended. “And without sleep, that is impossible, my heart.” The man paused, both of his hands on either side of your face, lightly squishing your cheeks.

“My heart, is it?” Your face heated up, embarrassment flooding your hazy irises. You tried to flee his hands, but he wouldn’t let you. “I adore it. Just like I adore you… My love.”

His words and gaze make it impossible for you to leave. Your sister had to have been awaiting you or is asleep by now. She reminded you not to be too scandalous – whatever that meant. “I must go, despite how difficult you make it.” Your eyes jested, bashfully. Hands gripping his forearms lightly, urging him off – yet, not desiring his lack of touch. “You make it very difficult, might I add.”

“As do you, but you are right.” He slides his hands from your face, down to your shoulders. “I have to put this equipment away, and get a good night’s rest for-”

“My mother.”

“Yes, your mother – and whatever the day will bring.”

You look down to the grass, chuckling. Taking one of his hands in yours, you draw little hearts with your thumb on the back of his hand. “Then, I will leave you to it. Good night, Benedict.” A part of you was sad as if you weren’t going to see him in the morning for breakfast. The hours were too long – you wished you could stay beside him all night. He leans down, to kiss the back of your hand. Holding his lips against your skin, savoringly.

“Good night, y/n. I wish you heavenly dreams.”

You walk backward, slowly sliding your hand from his grasp. A beat passes, eye contact being the pair of yours’ main source of communication – so it seemed. “I love you, y/n Sinclair.”

Thump, thump, thump. A grin spreads on your lips, broad and silly, yet just as beautiful. “I love you, Benedict Bridgerton… Wholly and completely.”

#🌻#benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #delphi’s writing room #1k omg ty <3

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

taglist : @criminalmindsvibez @moreidstrobed @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @temily @enbyspencer @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids (add yourself to my taglist via this form!!)

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

rock

Summary - spencer wants to figure out what's wrong with you, only to be reminded what day it is and he remembers why you've been so distant.

TW: talk abt: rape, recovery, therapy, case stuff; mention of: drug addiction, rape, miscarriage, being shot, death lol

WC - 4,283

!DISCLAIMER! - i am in no way trying to romanticize recovery from a traumatic event or being upset/depressed/anxious. this is kinda my way of getting through my own issues, so please don't think that's what i'm trying to do in any way. i also don’t know how i feel abt this ending since i wrote it so long ago but oh well!

i just realized there are a few spoilers so i'll put *asterisks* around them. those parts are just explaining how the reader's always there for the team.

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

you had always been the rock in spencer's life.

mentally, at least.

when he had nobody there for him when he was going through his addiction with dilaudid, there you were. you helped him through it when everybody else on the team acted as if they never noticed.

you were the one that encouraged him to get help, and pushed him to follow through. you made sure he ate and talked to someone when he had his urges again, even if it wasn't you.

you let him come over and cry about what had happened, and how unfair his life was. you consoled him and would tell him how nothing was his fault. how he didn't deserve anything bad in his life.

*and when emily 'died', he went to your house every day. you held him as he felt himself falling apart from losing her. you didn't even worry about yourself needing to be consoled, because spencer needed you to be there for him.

*when she came back you were the one to convince him to forgive her. you talked sense into him. you reminded him how much he pleaded to have her back, and then he did. so he managed to forgive her... because of you and your logic.

*and you weren't just there for spencer. while, yes, you made a special effort to be there for him, you were there for everyone on the team.

*when derek was arrested back in chicago and the team found out about his past, you were the one he leaned on for comfort. you and penelope. you let him cry on your shoulder and yell at you about how twisted a man would have to be to do something so cruel to a child.

*when jj was kidnapped and beaten to a miscarriage, you were the first she told. you didn't say anything. you knew there was nothing you could say that would relinquish the pain of losing a child. so you let her cry. you let her hug you for what felt like hours. you let her grief her unborn baby for as long as she needed.

*when penelope was shot, nobody cared to check up on her after the fact except you. you went to her apartment for weeks just to make sure she was okay. eventually, she was able to let loose all of her frustrations on you, and you took it like a champ. she ranted about how she just wanted to be loved by someone attractive and how unfair and cruel the world is, in spite of how much good she tries to bring into it.

*when hotch lost hailey, you took care of his files. you offered to watch henry and let hotch cry to you about losing her a few times once you broke past his tough exterior. you even cried with him and jack. you made them dinner whenever you could, and helped him look for good nannies to help care for jack.

*when rossi lost carolyn, you went to her grave with him on many occasions. you brought him his favorite scotch, which was very pricey, and his favorite cigars, also very pricey, and tried your best to recreate 'the rossi special' upon his directions. it helped him feel in control of something when he needed it.

*and when emily came back from the dead, you helped walk her through her own grief. she lost herself, and buried her emotions. you helped her dig up her old self, and grow into an even better woman. you even took care of her cat when penelope couldn't manage. you helped emily grieve her own death when she wanted to deny it ever happened, and she was forever grateful for you.*

you had become like the team's built-in therapist when something bad happened, and you loved it that way. you loved being the one the team went to when they needed it. it made you feel as though you had a purpose, which was something you desperately needed.

but when you went through your own trauma almost a year ago, you refused help from anyone. you knew you should've asked someone for help, or at least someone to cry or talk to when you needed to.

the team had been working on a case for longer than expected, 8 days now, and everyone was really frustrated. you had released the profile 7 days ago, and there was still no new information. it was as if the unsub had gone dormant, and you all couldn't bear that thought.

when the team released earlier than normal from the precinct and you all went to the hotel you had been staying at, you decided to get a drink from the bar quickly. you went alone, wanting to review a few of the case files during the process and not needing a distraction.

you ordered a jack and coke, and opened the case files to begin rereading them, seeing if you had missed anything.

victims were kept for 24 hours, filmed, raped, restrained, cut in pieces, and thrown in the trash like garbage. it was absolutely disgusting, and the worst you had seen in a while. the victims were low-risk and most of them had a place of authority.

the unsub had been profiled to be someone who was bossed around by a woman, narcissistic and egotistical, wanted to feel more power and authority.

the problem is, that profile was most people living in the area. even penelope couldn't dwindle down the suspects.

and alas, you had missed nothing. nothing new appeared or caught your eye. you gulped down the rest of your drink and paid for it before packing up your things to head upstairs. you tossed the file back into your bag and began the trek to the elevator.

you were interrupted by something hitting the top of your head, rendering you unconscious.

the team had woken up, and after waiting around for half an hour, spencer realized something was wrong. he had morgan bust into your room, only to find the bed unslept in. you were missing. and the worst part... you fit the unsubs type.

spencer felt his heart drop at the realization he had taken you. and it seemed as though there was no trail as to where you had gone. penelope checked the cameras, only to find that they were hacked right after you left the bar, and then they resumed after you were taken.

at least they had a time frame.

later that day, after everyone hasting to figure something, anything out, spencer had gotten an email. he opened it and expected it to be relentless spam, only to realize it was a live feed video. a video of you. he instantly called penelope in hopes that she could trace it.

she said she could, but it would take some time because the amount of routers it had been going through.

while they were waiting, you noticed you were alone. you knew who the unsub was too, thanks to his baffling stupidity and narcissism that lead him to believe he wouldn't get caught.

"officer johnson! it's officer johnson!" you looked around the camera for a second, noticing something moving. "he-he here," you cried out. "i love you," you said to the camera to nobody in particular, but someone in mind.

you were terrified. spencer could see it in your eyes. he could see the tears you tried not to shed. you didn't want to please him, but you couldn't help but feel the absolute horror and fear coursing through your body at a relentless pace.

"hi there, missus fbi," he teased, finally walking into the frame with a ski mask over his face, clearly not aware that we knew his identity.

spencer told garcia who he was, and she began her digging. officer johnson's great grandparents had owned a farm that was since then refurbished. it was an hour away.

officer johnson had known that you two had chemistry. that's why he sent the email to spencer. he saw the longing glares, the 'innocent' touches, the smiles you would give each other, the longing looks you shared. he wanted to torment him.

so when he began undressing you and you turned your face away from the camera in hopes of sparing some of your own dignity, spencer felt his heart breaking for you. it broke even more when he heard the yelps, and screams, and please, and "no!'s" you elicited during the act.

they caught him before he cut you, but not before he finished the first part of his plan. your skirt was ripped, and your shirt was practically in two pieces. spencer had given you his jacket to cover yourself as much as you could.

you stayed silent the ride back. you didn't even let spencer hold you like you normally would after a tough case. you were ashamed. embarrassed. you felt worthless. you felt pathetic. you felt stupid. you felt helpless. you felt like you were drowning. you felt like you were without a life raft.

you knew you could talk to the team about it, but you felt so disgusted by the thought of what happened to you that you only talked about it in your therapy sessions.

hotch had given you two months off. he wanted you to grieve, and go to therapy, and try to cope with everything that had happened.

and you did try to do that. you tried your hardest to get over it and move past it, but nothing helped. not the journaling. not the talking. not the crying. nothing was working.

spencer gave you a little space at first, but he then decided to try to help you as you had helped him. he went over to your house almost every day, and sat outside your door after you wouldn't let him in.

you knew he was there... you sat on the other side.

"i-i know that you probably don't want to see anyone right now. and i'm uh, i'm sure you feel alone right now, or like you can't talk to anyone," spencer sniffled. "but pl-please just uhm, just know that i'm here when you want to talk about it. i'm here to listen to you when you need me to. i-i don't want you to be alone during this time, y/n. please, just let me in," he begged.

that was normally what he would say almost every night he went to your house. he would sit outside for hours after he would ask you to let him in without fail. until one day you let him in.

spencer felt so much relief when you opened the door, only for it to be smashed when he noticed your eyes looked red and puffy, your cheeks were stained with the tears you had been crying for so long. your cheeks were sunken in, and there were dark circles underneath your eyes that were once full of life and happiness. your eyes no longer had that gorgeous sparkle in them.

spencer vowed he would get them back.

as much as spencer wanted to wrap his arms around you in that moment, to comfort you and tell you that he was there, he wanted you to make the first move. he wanted to tell you how strong you were and how proud of you he was for getting through that. he wanted to tell you how much he loved you.

he wanted you to make the first touch, because he didn't want to further upset you. he didn't want to trigger a repressed memory, or bring back the feelings of what had happened.

but spencer's touch was nothing like the officer's. spencer's touch was soft and gentle. spencer's touch was feather-light and endearing. spencer's touch was love and home. the officer's was brittle, and rough, and repulsive.

"hug me?" you sniffled as your eyes welled with tears again as they had been for the past three weeks.

"of course," spencer slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders as yours found his torso.

he walked inside with you still in his arms and slowly shut the door. without breaking from the hug, you both walked to the couch and sat down.

you didn't say anything. you just needed spencer to keep hugging you, so he did. he did whatever you wanted, needed, from him. eventually, you fell asleep in his embrace on the couch.

when spencer looked down at you, now sleeping against his chest, he couldn't bring his heart to remove himself from you. so like any whipped man would do, he carefully picked you up bridal styled and carried you to your room. he took his shoes off as well as his sweater vest before cuddling back up next to you.

as if it was a reflex, you cuddled up into his chest when he neared you again and got underneath the covers. spencer slept the best he did in months with you. and you slept without officer johnson in your dreams for the first time since that day.

ever since then, spencer had been making sure you were eating and drinking. he took you to your therapy sessions and stayed over most nights you had asked and he was able to.

they had a few cases during the two months, so every moment he could, spencer was with you. he coaxed you back to your normal-ish self. he watched as that glimmer in your eye began to slowly grow brighter everyday. he watched as your smile came back, and your tears didn't come so frequently.

the first time he had heard you laugh again, spencer had thought he was dreaming. he wished he had recorded that moment. he was more grateful than he's ever been in his life that he had an eidetic memory, because that sound would forever be engraved in his brain.

when you returned to work, you clung to spencer. he had become your tether to reality, and hope. he had become your rock during the recovery.

over the months, everyone slowly began to forget what had even happened. things went on as usual, and the team forgot the traumatic experience you had gone through. even spencer might've let the experience get lost in his brain.

so when it became 11 months and 3 weeks since the abduction, you began to distance yourself once again.

you politely declined going out with the team a couple days before the anniversary, something you never did. you insisted that you were just especially worn out from the case you had just been on.

spencer had to finish files given to him by derek anyway, so he didn't get to witness the encounter.

once the day of the anniversary came upon you, you found yourself feeling sick to your stomach. you couldn't help the tears that would fall from your face every so often. you knew why you felt this way, but you wanted to push past it.

you had gone into the office wearing a pantsuit and blazer, wanting to avoid the normal office skirt you happened to be wearing the day it happened. you stayed at your desk and quietly did your case files. you didn't even greet spencer as you would every day. you gave him a kind smile, but you would normally give him a hug, or at the very least an eager wave upon his arrival.

spencer just assumed it was one of those days where you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. it wasn't spencer's fault he thought this. he didn't even look at his calendar to check what day it was. he just knew they had paperwork.

but he did have this day marked in his calendar. he had it marked so he would remember to be extra kind to you, and do your files for you, and come to your place with your favorite wine and takeout. he wanted to help you through the one year anniversary, but he forgot to check his stupid calendar.

you thought he didn't care. you thought the man who you loved, and the man who helped you through everything that had happened had had enough of your complaining and grievances. so, you didn't tell him about it. you didn't bother him with the terrible thoughts clouding your mind because you thought it'd burden him.

so when you finished all of your case files early, you asked hotch if you could leave early, at 2:00, because you had things to tend to. he allowed you to do so, but this rose a flag for spencer.

he saw you exit without saying goodbye to him, something you hadn't done the entirety of knowing him. you had always told everyone to have a nice night and to be safe before leaving, but not today.

finally, he looked at his phone for the first time all day, only to feel like the worst person in the world to realize what day it was. spencer felt absolutely horrible at this revelation and ran into hotch's office as quick as he could after packing his things.

"hotch!" he exclaimed upon opening his office door.

"go. she was practically in tears," hotch informed him. "and reid," spencer stopped in his tracks to turn and look at the stern man, "please make sure she's okay." spencer gave him a soft grin and a nod before turning around and bolting out of the office.

you had gotten home and immediately burst into tears. you shut the door with your back, and slid down it. you had never understood why people had done that in movies until now. you just couldn't wait to break any longer, so you settled for your front door.

you held back no wail, or scream as you cried in front of your door, your knees pulled up to your chest as you held them tightly.

you wondered why you had to go through that. you wanted to know what kind of karma there was for someone who had always tried to do the right thing to be hurt... and for nobody to even care. nobody wanted to console you, or to make sure you were alright.

you had checked up on everyone on every anniversary of their struggles. whether it be a death, abduction, anything, you had been there for every single anniversary or reminder. and nobody was there for you.

nobody was there for you to hug, or to lean on, or to cry to, or to scream at, or to rant to. nobody was there. nobody loved you enough to care about that.

but then you had to remind yourself that they all had lives.

but the person who is your life didn't even care.

spencer didn't care.

and that's why you truly lost it.

he acted like it was just another day. he acted like it wasn't the anniversary of the day you thought you were going to die. the day you wanted to die. the day you felt your most low, and humiliated. the day you lost all hope. and he didn't remember.

if the man with an eidetic memory didn't remember, it must be extremely insignificant. so therefore, you must be extremely insignificant.

spencer raced to your house. he wanted to be there for you today, and he failed. he felt like a failure as a friend. he hated himself for not being there for you when he knew you would need him. he knew how you clung to him in your time of need. you thought he was worthy enough to hold onto when you needed someone, and spencer felt elated at that.

but now he wasn't there for you. and you needed him.

he had quickly stopped by the store and your favorite takeout place to get the things you'd want. he got your wine, chocolate, food, flowers, and a teddy bear that had a sweater vest on him - you've always loved his sweater vests.

when he got to the steps of your house, he felt his heart drop. as he walked closer he heard the wails of your crying right by the door. he could sense the heartache from the edge of your porch, and felt himself feel even worse, which he didn't think was possible.

he instantly ran to the door and knocked profusely. you sniffled one last time, feeling embarrassed that someone had heard you crying your heart out. you had figured one of your neighbors heard you and wanted to tell you to keep it down, so you wiped your tears and the stray mascara from underneath your eyes and opened the door, keeping your eyes lowered in embarrassment.

"y/n," spencer announced sadly, a tear falling down his face. you looked up in confusion from hearing his voice. you noticed his tear and reached up to wipe it away on instinct.

"why're you crying? are you okay?" you asked, forgetting all of your own problems at the sight of spencer crying. spencer let out a small chuckle at your concern.

"i'm alright, aside from the fact that i'm a terrible friend," he admitted as his smile quickly faded upon seeing your stained cheeks. "i brought your favorites," he offered, holding the bag of goodies in one hand and the takeout in another.

"y-you... why?" you asked, wanting to make sure you weren't misreading the situation for him trying to comfort you.

"why?" he asked in disbelief. "because it's the anniversary. i can't tell you how sorry i am, y/n. i swear i marked it on my calendar and planned for us to take off so i could take care of you. i-i just woke up late and never bothered to even check my phone. i kn-know it's no excuse... but i am so, so, so sorry," he rambled out, already tearing up.

you grabbed his arm gently and pulled him inside before you started crying in front of your neighbors. you took the bags from his hands and placed them on your coffee table.

"i thought you just didn't care," you shrugged as you took a seat on the couch, prompting him to sit beside you.

"y/n..." he sighed as he realized how terrible he screwed up. "i will always care about this. i will always care about you. don't ever think differently. i'm just incredibly... dumb sometimes. i can't believe i made you think that," he trailed on. "i will never not care about you, y/n. i swear it. i will always, always care about you. i will always love you," he froze as he realized what he just revealed. your eyes widened, and squinted, and roamed his face, trying to figure out if he meant the words he had just sped out. "i truly do, y/n. i i’m in love with you and i'm so sorry i made it seem otherwise."

it took you a second to absorb everything that he had said.

"you too," you solemnly admitted. "i’m in love with you too. and i could forgive you... for almost forgetting," you gave him a small smile.

"i'm glad you could forgive me. i don't know what i'd do if you didn't," he relished. "you actually love me?" you nodded with a small smile.

"i have for a while," you turned your head to the bags on the table.

"oh! right!" he said, reaching for the gifts. "i got your favorite takeout, your favorite wine, your favorite chocolates, flowers, and..." he trailed on as he revealed each item. "i saw this teddy, and i couldn't resist," he smiled.

you took the bear, taking in its appearance. it had a light blue, navy, and white diamond pattern sweater vest and brown shoes on. it looked like spencer, just teddy bear form. you smiled widely at the sentiment.

"it's you," you grinned as you took it in your arms, hugging it tightly as you saw spencer nodded with a smile mirroring that of your own. "i love it," you chuckled.

"i would understand, the fur is really soft," he relished in the thought.

"i don't think he'd be as good of a cuddler as the real thing, though," you grimaced. "but he'll do for when i don't have you here i guess," you shrugged with a smile.

"i plan on being here as long as you'll let me," he said softly.

"always," you grinned, setting down the teddy bear and trading him for the real spencer reid.

"always," he repeated, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tightly as if you'd float away at any moment. "now let's dig into this food while you talk about your feelings, if you want that is," he said after releasing you from the hug.

"i think i want to," you nodded. "and spence?" he turned from getting the food out of the bag to look at you for a second. "thank you for being my rock through all of this."

"i'll always be your rock, y/n."

@averyhotchner @greenprisca @muffin-cup

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst

342 notes · View notes

writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Converging Parallels

Spencer Reid x Female Single Mom Reader (Spencer’s POV)

Summary: Spencer goes to a support group Penelope suggested after the death of Maeve. He quickly connects with a single mom who’s experiences have been similar to Spencer’s.

A/N: I’m prefacing this by saying I know shit about math and am horrible at it lol 😂 so my math analogies might be horribly off 😂 This is my fifth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April- this one was requested by @samuel-de-champagne-problems- this is the request- (go check out there fics too!!) I tweaked it a little bit so I hope you enjoy it 🥺 a lot of it is confined to Spencer grappling with his thoughts- but there is dialogue I promise lol 😂I had a good time writing it ☺️Thanks for all the love recently and if you want to drop me an ask for any reason you can do so here- I’m always looking for some new friends on here (I promise I don’t bite lol) Thanks again and hope y’all enjoy 🥰

Warnings: Angst with a hopeful ending, General dealings surrounding death and grief, Mentions of Maeve’s death, Reader’s a widow, Guilt about moving on, Reader’s child is a daughter

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k

Parallel lines were never supposed to meet, they were set on a strict path following in a similar direction with no hope of ever converging. At least that’s what was the widely accepted definition by anyone with any authority in the field of mathematics.

My own math degree was being contested by a set of two lines set on a collision course with each other, though they were not supposed to. Logically I knew that the two lines were not beholden to any mathematical equation as I was referring to two human lives.

We were set on a similar course, only slight differences that seemingly were leading us to different destinations, or at least I tried to convince myself that. I tried every night to convince myself that she was only a friend, that it wasn’t what she wanted and I was desecrating the memory of the person I still claimed to be the only person I loved.

Logically I knew that by forcing where I wanted our relationship to go, what I thought the universe wanted to happen wasn’t what I truly wanted. The reason I had boxed us in so vehemently was only because I was scared and guilty, I knew it too. I wanted us to converge, but logic doesn’t always win out when dealing with guilt.

It had all started with Garcia mentioning that I should consider going to a grief support group after the death of Maeve. Every action I took was being weighed down by her death, whether I cared to admit it or not.

Garcia had good intentions when she suggested going to this meeting to me, of that I was sure. It isn’t that I saw no reason to go to the support group, I just knew that it would dreg up all the unwanted feelings that bombarded me enough already.

The flier in my hands felt heavy even though it was made of paper it weighed my hands down enough where I almost dropped it. I could have let it go then to have it fly away, being taken by the wind, that would let me forget about it. But, I knew it would have only made me forget for a short while, I’d inevitably get questions from Garcia and my own mind wouldn’t let me forget the reality of what had happened. And, logically I knew that it would most likely help. So instead of letting the wind take it away, I crumpled the paper slightly in my hands out of frustration, moving my feet forward one step at a time to enter the building.

That’s where I had first met her. When I first walked in I didn’t immediately lock eyes with her or anything, my eyes were too fixated on the ground for that to happen.

I only noticed her when she was invited to tell her story. Her strength instantly captivated me, almost making me feel like a failure at first. Her story of how she lost her husband was eerily similar in some aspects, especially the cause of his death. The feeling of failure on my part to be strong swirled in my gut as she recounted her struggles that were so starkly similar to mine. She even had a young daughter to take care of as well, she often spoke of her whenever she told her story, almost neglecting herself sometimes- which she admitted she knew she needed to work on.

However, when she came up to me to talk after the meeting was concluded my opinion switched to view her as inspiring. We began getting coffee after each meeting, sometimes talking for hours, sometimes sitting in silence. Whatever I needed she was there to give it to me, whenever she needed help I wanted to be there too.

To see our almost parallel lives begin to converge at first felt like someone had driven a car into traffic about to collide straight into my path. My mind would not stop arguing about whether or not I should pull away from her or not, like guilt was on shoulder and my potential happiness was on the other.

—-

Guilt was eating away at me from the inside out slowly, that part of my mind would not stop clawing away any good aspect of my relationship with Y/N. The relationship between us had shifted in recent weeks, tension invading what had once been a simply platonic connection formed through our shared experiences. When it became clear to me what our lingering stares and touches were leading to, guilt had reared its ugly head to burrow its way down deep and take root.

It had disrupted my sleep even more than usual, nightmares ranging from Maeve guilting me to the visuals of her death. The images of Maeve and any time I had shared with her invaded my brain at all hours of the night, haunting me. I scrunched my eyes up tight, maybe that would banish the images from my brain. That only made the guilt worse it seemed as I now felt double the guilt for wanting to banish the thoughts about a person I still claimed to love.

My hand hit the pillow in frustration, then grabbing it and throwing it to some unknown location across the room. Sitting up, no longer being able to tolerate laying down knowing that sleep would never come, made my exhausted joints beg me to lay back down. I leaned forward to put my head in my hands, also tangling my curls with my fingers. I tried to think about what Y/N had said to me at one of the first meetings I had attended, my normally impeccable memory struggled as the memory of Maeve’s bloodied face would not leave. Screaming internally was the only thing that seemed to work to push the words I was looking for forward,

“I try to think about something my therapist told me- Although it's difficult today to see beyond the sorrow, May looking back in memory help comfort you tomorrow.”

The quote wasn’t something groundbreaking or new, though the origins were unknown. But, the words still struck me deep everytime I forced my memory to call back on them.

The words she had spoken in the meeting when talking about her husband made me want to try too. She inspired me whenever she told snippets of her story to me or the rest of the group, her story had been similar to mine- with the added element of having a daughter to raise on her own.

Her strength was what had drawn me to her initially, like a moth to flame. Our relationship wasn’t even a friendship at first, just two people sharing advice (more her giving it to me) about how to deal with crippling grief.

What had blossomed since then from death and decay had thrown me for a loop. I hadn’t been expecting for this to happen, I never even thought romance would be an option for me again. I thought that I would have one great love and that our time in the sun had ended along with any option for romantic interests in the future.

Then she came along and spun my thinking upside down, not that I blamed her at all for it. She originally had just reached out to help me, not to pursue any romantic connection purposefully while I was vulnerable.

She continued to stay with me to help despite my urge to push her away even though that’s not what I wanted. I tried hard to convince myself that our lives were never meant to connect, that we were destined to remain apart.

It took many more sleepless nights for me to realize what I hadn’t seen for so long, even with Y/N reassuring me at every turn. Maeve would want me to be happy, I was sure of it. So I’d try to let myself, no longer letting myself get hindered by my own swirling thoughts of guilt that Maeve wouldn’t have wanted me to feel.

—-

Asking her out on a date had been surprisingly easy once I had let go a little of my guilt. We had chosen to go somewhere different than a coffee shop, since we already did that often. I took her out to more of an upscale restaurant than she was used to, which may be too fancy for some for a first date, but she deserved it. She worked so hard to take care of her daughter and even me to some extent.

At the end of the night we were both standing outside her door ready to go in to relieve the babysitter for the night. I had already given her a chaste kiss for the night, even though my nerves kept trying to talk me out of it. I was about to say goodbye when she grabbed my wrist to hold in her hands. She looked afraid at first, almost like she wondered if I wouldn’t like her touching me. Touch may bother me with most people, but she wasn’t most people, I’d happily share germs with her. When I did not pull away relief was evident in her eyes, then taking a big breath before speaking,

“Would you like to meet my daughter?” Her voice was shaky, understandably full of worry.

“Of course.” In the past hesitation would have littered my voice if she had asked me the same question. But, my thoughts had been slowly shifting to want our lines to converge fully and with no fear. Sure, Maeve would always capture a place in my heart, but I was ready for our lives to collide. Our parallel lives converged into one line, with a set path forward. It may get derailed from its intended path, but we would be stronger together than apart.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (damn tumblr just let me tag them)

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fanfic #30 fics in 30 days

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 years

Note

this was once again my favourite chapter!! i don't know how you keep on beating your own very high quality but somehow you do!! i loved this chapter, though i am afraid this is only the start of a lot of angst and tears to come 😔😔 which i kind of expected but still- a girl can hope for just a series filled with fluff only (usually i'd say that would get boring but honestly you could pull it off and have me read a 30-chapter fic of fluff only and not get bored at all) anyway- i'll get into the specific commentary. there's a lot of it this chapter so buckle up!!

“Cecily can’t be there, Y/N.” elias with all due respect shut UP

“I don’t have that luxury,” he said, making you shake your head fervently. elias is really determined on putting the stupid in himbo huh

You let out a breath, his confession distracting you momentarily. “You hold Cecily dear to your heart?” y'know what i diagnose cherie with adhd she's constantly getting distracted by everything and having to go outside when it's too loud- also i have adhd and i am relating to her so!!

“Well, that won’t do,” you murmured to yourself, “I don’t care what anyone else thinks, I will get those two together.” honestly never before have i actually related to a y/n in a reader fic this much i support cherie with all my heart ALSO i just realised cherie is literally cher from clueless?? even their (nick)names are pretty much the same?? how did i not notice this before

“Oh everyone has those lists,” Cecily said airily. “Mama makes one for Hugh every season, but he insists he wants us girls to marry first before he even considers looking for a wife.” every single time i hear anything about hugh i fall more in love with him how are you so good at writing characters that i'm in love with him without his actual presence in the fic?? also if you ever decide to write a spin-off about hugh i will support it with my entire being and be forever grateful

“That’s what Hugh does.” hugh i want you to know i love you with all my heart i don't care what you do

“Especially after Benedict saw something he wasn’t supposed to see, I think?” which one of the several times. benedict is all-seeing for all i know he seems to know a lot of shit about his brother

Penelope leaned in closer to hear it better. ha i see what you did there 👀👀

“Mm hm,” Eloise stated, winking at you. “Sounds like a scandal.” that's what i've been saying bestie!! you don't even know half of it!! honestly if eloise was to know how many scandalous things anthony has been doing to get closer to cherie she'd die of embarrassment

You looked around and held your breath as soon as you caught the sight of Anthony and Benedict by a corner, looking to be in a deep conversation honestly i've been assuming that every time cherie sees them in a conversation it's about her and i'm like 98% sure my assumptions are right they're like teenage girls gossiping about someone's crush

Anthony snapping out of the conversation the second he saw you. ah yes, this is obviously a man not completely in love

Benedict looked almost as surprised as Anthony was, and he looked between you before turning his attention to you. OOF rip anthony's heart i guess

Benedict stole a glance at Anthony as if trying to see his reaction before he cleared his throat, then offered you his arm. lol benedict definitely knows what's up all those people talking about benedict making elias jealous with cecily obviously haven't been thinking about the potential of THIS

Benedict tilted his head like a confused puppy. “I thought you’d be happy.” i can just PICTURE this i never knew i was missing benedict's interactions so much in this fic until this chapter- i am definitely not opposed to this pair working together again in the future (i'm sorry anthony)

“I have a plan about Cece and my brother,” you said, feeling Anthony’s dark gaze burning a hole on you but you managed to focus on Benedict. take a shot every time anthony acts jealous in some way this chapter

“They don’t know it is true love yet, but that’s just a small detail that needs to be handled, and I am working on it,” you pointed out as a burst of laughter climbed up his throat. cherie you are the best never change please i adore you also i have to mention again i love this notion of cherie and benedict being besties it's so cute

“He’s glaring at us as we speak, if you’d like a clue.” lol tell her benedict!! idk why but benedict is to anthony and cherie what cherie is to elias and cecily kind of??

“He hasn’t glared at me like that since we were children, this brings back memories,” he commented and you tilted your head at him. he's so CHEEKY also i can just hear and see him saying this if you decide on writing a benedict fic- i would definitely not be opposed to it!!

He frowned. “And my brother could help you with that?” i almost feel bad for him he feels so rejected poor soul

“He’s a very nice person,” you said, nodding your head. “I’m sure you’re very proud to have him as your brother.” honestly if i was anthony id have laughed in her face i don't have this restraint benedict IS very nice but he's also such a little bastard to his siblings-

“I could…help you with whatever it is,” he said after a beat and you waved a hand in the air. awww he is trying!! and very jealous but it's fine!! this is so cute he just wants her attention doesn't even matter what it is he has to help her with- you can definitely see the elias in him here 😭😭

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he had let out an exhale of relief as it dawned on him and he nodded slowly. "if you didn't know any better" my ass cherie doesn't know love if it's staring her in her face with all its green colours of jealousy

“And if you ask me, this is yet another situation in which you’re tragically wrong.” honestly usually anthony makes some solid points regarding marriage but i have to agree with cherie here elias and cecily are OBVIOUSLY meant to be

“…Your list?” he repeated after a moment of hesitation and you nodded. lord i can see anthony's poor nerves tensing up in fear this man really can't relax in fear of cherie falling in love with someone else while he's resting

“Cecily’s list will be very easy, it’ll be just Elias’s name repeated ten times, but mine will be a little challenging I fear.” cherie is once again completely right cecily needs no one else on her list also i LOVE cherie being a feminist™ and taking charge of her own damn list

“Well I’d have to get to know them in order to fall in love with them,” you said. okay honestly cherie?? very solid point!! this is more than i'd usually expect from her concerning the areas of love

“Pierre will be on it, probably.” okay i know i loved pierre at first but i'm joining in on anthony's annoyance now PLEASE get him out of here so she can get with anthony 🙄🙄 if we need more jealousy i guess benedict is always available?? apparently not much is needed to make anthony seethe in it

“And I’m thinking about Mr. Sinclair, the third son. He sent me flowers on Valentine’s day, so I think he’s a romantic at heart.” not mr sinclair 😭😭 cherie bestie you don't even know which one he is- how often are we going to hear about these sinclairs again??

His jaw clenched but that was the only clue he let slip that he was getting annoyed. mhm yes i'm sure that's the ONLY clue. not every single one of his words or anything.

“Don’t you all drink and spend time at the gentlemen’s club?” you asked. “They are your friends so you must recommend me someone, it’s not like I can go ask Elias. He will be opposed to everyone in the ballroom.” first of all cherie has a VERY loose definition of what friends are second of all i love elias being a true ally to anthony even in his absence

“Anyone in London.” anthony bestie your green is showing 😭😭

He nodded his head. “Maybe you should wait until the next season or something just to be sure.” ANTHONY BRIDGERTON- let this girl have her love or go be it yourself!! you can't go and dictate her matches when you won't step up and be it yourself!!

“Then Pierre it is,” you stated as he pulled back slightly. “What? No, that’s not what I meant—” i love anthony accidentally sabotaging himself badly!! i mean it sucks because pierre but also anthony needs to be put in his place!! and if he does so himself even better!! this has the same energy of cecily accidentally supporting anthony

“Maybe not but think about it, he’s not from London and if I do fall in love and marry him, when you finally find your future Viscountess whom you will not love, you two could visit us in Paris! Would that not be fun?” He looked as if he swallowed something bitter. “I’m sorry?” okay i feel very bad for him now not only is he now picturing her marrying pierre but he ALSO has to visit her?? poor guy :(( same energy as edwina telling kate she'll have to visit and be an auntie to her and anthony's children 😀😀

“I reckon it would be a nice change for you and her. Paris is the city of love, and London is the…city of business I’m guessing, so I’m sure she will be as pragmatist and logical as you are but she would probably like Paris, anyone would. Who knows, she might even consider—” cherie is honestly so hilarious i'd probably fall in love with her too tbh i love her casually roasting anthony idk how to describe it but their banter is so different to anthony's and kate's and i love it!! also i'm very curious as to what cherie was going to say before they were interrupted by cecily's arrival

You looked around his arm to see Cecily approaching the house. “Oh I see Cecily has just arrived, excuse me.” honestly?? bestie goals!! ignore that man who is also the love of your life for your best friend!! (as she should)

“My sister was having a breakdown because she didn’t like any of her clothes,” you know what i relate to cecily's sister the most i take back everything i said about relating to cherie this is my spiritual twin instead

okay this became WAY longer than intended but then again this was a very great chapter!! my love for this fanfic has now grown into a phase where my friends ask for updates on how it's going with it 😭😭

have a wonderful day love!!

Omg Merel honeeey❤❤ I'm so excited for this! ❤

We're going to get some fluff before the actual angst hits though, no worries 😂😂

Elias was so damn blind this chapter honestly 😂

y'know what i diagnose cherie with adhd she's constantly getting distracted by everything and having to go outside when it's too loud- also i have adhd and i am relating to her so!! YOU NOTICED! YOU NOTICED THAT! ❤

Like especially getting distracted easily, being unable to sit still and fidgeting a lot (she can't even stand completely still when she's talking to Anthony most of the time, she is either rocking back and forth or shifting her weight a lot) and excessive physical movement ❤ She also has a lot of energy 😁❤

I LOVE CLUELESS SO MUCH ❤❤

Omg this is amazing 😂😂 Hugh is coming really soon and I'm so excited to hear what you'll think of him! ❤❤ I think you will like him a lot, he's one of my favorite characters ❤

Benedict sees right through him 😂

Oh yeah, Penelope was very interested in the gossip wasn't she? 😈

ah yes, this is obviously a man not completely in love LOLLLL 😂😂

Benedict is gonna have so much fun with this and I think him and Cherie working together....they'd make an unstoppable duo😂😂

take a shot every time anthony acts jealous in some way this chapter Oh I would be drunk for sure 😂

I think a Benedict fic might be very possible after this 😏❤

he just wants her attention YESSSS! ❤❤ Like, he's so not used to sharing her attention and he doesn't like it 😈

She has no idea he's so jealous 😂

this man really can't relax in fear of cherie falling in love with someone else while he's resting You are right and you should say it 😂

Oh yeah, Cherie is like "if men are getting lists, so are we!" 😂

We will see just how jealous Anthony can get 😏 He does not like to share when it comes to her😈

Oh we're going to hear a lot about Sinclairs lolll, they're a big family and one of them is totally trying to court Cherie 😂

Anthony doesn't even see it😂 Like, in his mind, he really wants her to wait but not flirt with any suitors lolll😂

Anthony accidentaly sabotaging himself lolll😂

His mind totally went overdrive, he even saw them having kids, that's why he was all frozen 😂

I think she likes that a lot 😂 and she has zero attention span lolll❤

OMG I LOVE LONG ASKS, YOU KNOW THATTT❤❤ Awww your friends ask that? That's so sweet of them! ❤❤❤

Thank you so much for this, you're amazing! ❤❤❤

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aubreyprc · 3 years

Text

burn for you

Hotchniss 1800 AU - loosely based on Bridgerton

Two - The Ruse

word count - 10.3k lol oops again

Read on AO3 or continue below

Aaron spots her the next day during his stroll with Dave, half listening to the mans chatter about a meeting he must attend in the evening. She and Clyde are talking among themselves as their parents discuss what he can only imagine to be town gossip as they cast their eyes across the park. He silences Dave with a swift one moment and heads over that way, not noticing the older man shaking his head at the side of him, a small laugh on his lips. The group silence as he walks over, Emily's playful smirk causing his stomach to flutter as he smirks back, ignoring the way her mother stares at the two of them.

“Care to take a walk, Miss Prentiss?” he asks, holding his arm out and her smirk turns to a smile as she bites her bottom lip, lifting herself up from leaning against the rail.

“Of course, Your Grace.” she answers, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she loops her arm through his, and he can't help but chuckle at her eye roll at her Mother's mutters of questions as two begin walking away.

“Since when was Em and The Duke courting?” Clyde asks as he watches the two walk away.

“The engagement party last night.” Elizabeth says with a pleased smile.

“It is a lot better than Prince Ian.” Erin says to Elizabeth, who nods before turning to Rossi who has made his way over to them.

“Mr Rossi.” Elizabeth greets with a nod.

“Lady Prentiss. Good to see you again.”

“And you,” she smiles, casting her eyes on her daughter again as she heads further into the park.

“I see my nephew has once again found himself in the company of your daughter.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth says, “They seem to somehow always be around each other. Have you been told of their stroll yesterday?”

“I have indeed.” Dave nods, “The Duke seemed in good spirits upon his return.”

“As did Emily.”

The two look at the couple a few yards ahead.

“He's laughing..” Dave announces.

“She has a great sense of humour.” Elizabeth informs him.

“She will need it. Not only will she be in society she will be leading it…”

“I've prepared her quite well.”

Clyde buts in, “They are merely courting, let's not rush them along with a wedding so soon.”

Elizabeth laughs, “Do not mind my nephew... he and my daughter grew up in close quarters. He is quite protective.”

“I see.” Dave nods, “Fear not, The Duke is a great man.” He smiles, Clyde looks over at the two of them as they walk, squinting as he watches Emily smiles as Aaron talks, his eyes on her with his head turned in her direction.

“It is not him I worry about.” Clyde mumbles and all Elizabeth can do is laugh as she shakes her head as if he were joking, but sending daggers his way.

As the pair walk arm in arm, Aaron turns to her and smiles as she looks around at the views, the wind coming in their direction blowing her hair away from her face, exposing her neck; He looks away quickly as he imagines trailing his lips down them and clears his throat before looking to be again as she speaks.

“We will be telling our friends the details of your elaborate plan?” she asks him as she turns to face him, he chuckles.

“Would that not defeat the purpose?”

“I suppose..” she ponders, and he grins as she looks at him, “What?” She laughs.

“My elaborate plan?” he questions, she shrugs and looks away.

“You did come up with it, it’s only fair to give credit where it is due.” she tells him, he nods with a small laugh.

“I guess I should thank you then, for giving me my credit.” he grins, she smiles back as she looks to him, humming in response with a tilt of her head. He looks round to notice all eyes are on her.

"It seems we have an audience.” he tells her and she looks around before back at him.

“Yes well... have you seen me?” she jokes and he laughs, nodding his head.

“Indeed I have.” He tells her, catching her eye; she looks down, biting her lip and his heart flutters at the sigh and he swallows, forcing himself to look away.

“You need to buy me flowers, expensive ones.” Emily announces after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“I do?” he questions with a raised eyebrow.

“If my mother is to believe you are courting me you should get me flowers, just like you would if you actually were.”

He stops walking them and looks her up and down.

“If I were courting you I would not need flowers, only five minutes alone in the drawing room.” he meets her eyes as he says it, holding back a grin as she swallows, taking a deep breath, flustered as they walk again.

“How is your hand this morning?” he asks, changing the subject, only for his heart to skip when she laughs.

“I’m fine.”

“You must know you did nothing wrong.” Aaron tells her and she nods, before tilting her head to the side to look at him.

“Yes well, if word gets to my mother that I was even alone with him, never mind punching him, I’ll be shipped off to Ireland within a week.”

“I have no intention of causing a scandal, Miss Prentiss.” The Duke smirks. She hums in response.

“With you I just assumed it came naturally.” Emily tells him with a cheeky grin and he chuckles, before taking them across the bridge, the sound of their laughter catching the attention of everyone they passed. Neither one noticed.

Aaron is boxing with Derek later that day, the old friends taking time to catch up, fall back into normal routines upon Aaron's return.

“Are you really sure courting someone this close to the royals is a good idea?” Morgan asks him as he stands, the two catching their breath.

“I do not know what you mean.” Aaron tells him, dismissing the conversation topic.

“Hotch, if the two of you do not work out, are you aware of how awkward your future will be?” Derek questions, “Her cousin, who would protect her with his life, is to be king in a few years, do you really think he’s going to work respectfully alongside someone who hurt his family?" Morgan questions, before sighing, "Especially her? Have you seen how protective he is? They are more siblings than they are cousins.”

“Who said I would hurt her?” Aaron asks him, displeased with his friends accusation.

“You have said many times you do not want to marry nor bare a child..” Derek says, “Emily has no choice, are you really going to string her along like this? Think of both of your futures.”

“It is fine.” Aaron tells him and Derek scoffs.

“It better be, Your Grace, because if you hurt her it won't just be Prince Clyde you will have to worry about, that woman is like a sister to me and I wont have her hurt.” he threatens.

“It's under control. She’s a big girl.” Aaron smirks and Derek looks at him as he stands straight.

“Just don't be another thing she has to recover from, she’s been through enough." he sighs and his words make Aaron frown, but he’s unable to question his words, the man already walking off.

Three days later, Aaron is walking around the Greenaway Ball, smiling as he watches Spencer and Elle flirt in their own corner. As the couple look in his direction he nods his head at them as they smile back, heading towards the rest of the small group, smiling at Jennifer as she beams at her ring.

“Congratulations.” The Duke smiles as JJ flashes him her ring, the couple smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“I can not believe how long it took you.” Derek jokes towards Will, who laughs.

“Me neither.” Jennifer teases, wrapping her arm around his.

“Have you two thought about a date?”

“Not really, we are just enjoying the engagement.” Will tells the group.

The five look up as Penelope and Luke walk over, followed soon by Spencer and Elle, and Aaron can’t help but notice the absence of the woman he has been looking for all night.

“Has anyone seen Emily tonight?” he asks them, JJ and Penelope look at one another, he frowns.

“She won't be here tonight, we assumed you’d know..” Jennifer tells him softly.

“Know what?”

“It's the anniversary of her fathers death..” Elle tells him with a sad smile and the pain he feels in his chest on her behalf is one that catches him off guard.

“Have either of you seen her today?” he asks the group.

“My family and I went to see her family today, her mother told us she was up in her room, I did not see her.” JJ tells him and he nods, but before he can speak is summoned by his Uncle.

“If you’ll excuse me.” he smiles, they smile in response and he heads towards him.

Once at Dave’s side, he silences the older man's words before he can even form them.

“I have to go…” Aaron announces and Dave snaps his head to him with confusion, “To see Emily…”

Dave frowns as he looks around the room before finding the room void of any Prentiss or any Royal.

“Her father died three years ago today.” The Duke explains, and Dave nods as he remembers the date, “I should be there, go and see if she or her family need anything… do you not think?”

“Of course.” Dave tells him, “Go. I shall explain your absence.”

“Thank you.” He says, before fleeing the room unnoticed.

He arrives at the Prentiss house, smiling at the woman who opens the door and allows him through and into the house.

“Your Grace, what are you doing here?” Elizabeth says as he walks into the living room.

“I heard today was the anniversary of Antony’s death, I thought best to send my regards to you family." He tells them.

“Thank you, Your Grace." Elizabeth says with a sad smile.

Erin looks at him, “I assume you are here to see Miss Prentiss are you not?”

Clyde stands, walks over, stopping as his mother holds out her arm.

“She’s upstairs. Clyde, do go and collect the girl, tell her she has a visitor.” Erin tells her him.

“Of course,”

He stares at Aaron as he passes, clenching his jaw, before heading up the long staircase.

Emily is sitting on her window seat, clutching the necklace as she allows the tears to fall freely as she stares out the window, pulled from her thoughts by the knock on the door. She turns to find Clyde stood leaning against the wall, a sad smile on his face.

“You have a visitor.” he tells her softly as he walks through the room, the woman frowns, “The Duke.”

Emily’s eyes widen, before she wipes her tears.

“Did he say why?”

“For you, I assume.”

“Oh..” she stands, he grabs her hand and she looks at him.

“I can get rid of him if you'd like.” he tells her, she smiles but shakes her head.

“Thank you, though.” Emily squeezes his hand and he smiles.

“He’d be proud of you,” Clyde tells her, “Do not listen to your mother when she tells you otherwise, she did not know him if that is what she believes.”

Emily smiles sadly, a small thank you leaving her lips as she heads past him, a small smile growing on her face as she hears Aaron speaking with her mother, catching his eye as she glides down the steps.

“Would you care for a walk, Miss Prentiss?” The Duke asks as she walks towards him.

“I'd love to.” She says softly, a small smile growing on her face.

“Clyde, do chaperone.” Erin tells him.

“That won't be necessary, Your Majesty.” Aaron tries, but it is useless.

“No, I insist,” Clyde says, and passes Emily her coat, “ We wouldn't want any trouble.”

Emily stares at Clyde, who smirks in her direction and she looks away with an eye roll.

“Let's go shall we?” Aaron asks, holding out his arm and she places a hand on it with a small smirk and they head out.

“Do watch her, Clyde, especially today, she doesn't do grief very well.” Elizabeth says once the couple are out of earshot.

“Of course." he nods, before following the couple out, remaining a few steps behind them, close enough to watch them, but further away to not hear their conversations.

“Where are we going?” Emily asks.

“I take it you haven't been today? To the grave?”

“No…” Emily answers quietly, “My mother doesn't like to go.”

“Then we shall go now.” he tells her, and pulls out a rose from his coat.

“For you….For your father.” she looks at him as she takes it, a small smile on her face.

“Thank you.” she whispers, the sentiment causing him to worm his way further into her heart, a feeling she is weary off, but unable to stop.

Clyde stands a few feet away from them as they stand at her father's grave. Emily resting her head on Aarons shoulder as they both stare forward.

“He would be so disappointed in me…” she whispers, lifting her head to wipe her tears.

“Why do you say that?” he asks her in the same tone and she takes a breath while she places the rose down.

“Because it is true.” she tells him sadly.

“I doubt that, what would he have to be disappointed in?”

Emily laughs sadly, he looks at her.

“Your father loved you.” she looks at him, “From the stories I have heard of the man you were his pride and joy. I don’t think it possible for that man to be disappointed in you.” Aaron tells her, she smiles sadly at him before looking back at her father’s grave.

“You would think the same if you knew of the thing I have done.” Emily tells him softly, her voice breaking at the end of her sentence.

“Tell me.” he whispers, she looks at him and finds nothing but trusting eyes looking back at her, she looks away.

“I cannot,” she tells him, “Not now.” She whispers, looking backwards at Clyde. He can only nod in understanding as she turns around.

“I am really sorry you lost him so young.” he tells her quietly.

“Thank you,” she replies, “And you your mother.”

“Yes..” he nods, “We make quite the team.” He says, and the laugh that leaves her makes his heart quicken, unable to stop himself smiling at the sound.

“Yes, I guess so.” she smiles.

He loosely leaves his hand hanging next to hers, can feel her fingers next to his, the way they slowly graze across his and he slowly places his fingers through hers only for Clyde to walk over, the sound of his footsteps having her pull her hand away quickly.

“Time to go, Emily.” he announces to them.

Emily turns and nods, as she steps towards him she turns to face Aaron.

“Thank you for this,” she smiles “You did not have to.”

“It was no problem.” he smiles back, “I hope to see you soon, Miss Prentiss.”

Emily looks to the ground as she bites her lip, before looking up again as she walks backwards.

“I am sure you will.” she declares, before smiling and turning around.

Aaron watches her and Clyde walk away, and clenches his fist as the ghost of her touch lingers on the side of his hand.

He does see her soon, a mere two days later at the bridge near the park.

“Are you thinking of proposing?” Dave asks him and he laughs, shaking his head in shock.

“I am just getting to know her. It is far too soon for any of that nonsense.”

“You left a ball to go to her, Aaron, and took her to her father's grave.” Dave laughs as he informs him, “I think you are in deeper than you would like to think.”

Aaron doesn't answer, simply smiles as they stop in front of Emily and her family.

“Miss Prentiss, Prince Clyde.” Aaron nods, trying to stop himself from smiling as he looks at her.

“Your Grace,” they all reply.

“Lady Prentiss, it's nice to see you again.”

“And you, Your Grace.”

Emily smiles softly at Aaron when he looks back at her, he tilts his head as a cue for her to walk with him; she leans her back off the bridge and steps towards him.

“I hear you are maid of honour for Jennifer, at her wedding this coming Saturday.” Aaron says to her as the families begin to walk.

“Yes, I imagine it will be hard for her without Roselyn, so I was quite shocked when she asked.”

“I’m sure you will look beautiful in the dress.”

“Yes I’m sure I will.” she declares casually, he laughs.

“Quite confident aren't we.” he says, she looks at him with a shameless smile.

“Do I have a reason not to be?” She teases, he shakes his head.

“No, not at all.” he tells her, and the smiles that grows on her face as she looks to the floor has him grinning.

“Why, Your Grace, was that a compliment?” she plays shocked as she looks back up and he chuckles.

“I think it was.” he laughs and she grins.

“I'm honoured.” she teases.

"Yes, you should be. I'm not known for being the compliment type." he jokes back and her laugh has him in a trance, the want to be the reason for it having him doubt everything he had vowed, and as she smiles, biting her bottom lip as she looks to the floor he's unable to ignore the effect it has on him.

Rossi and Elizabeth are talking as they watch Emily and Aaron walk ahead of them.

“They get on.”

“They do.” Elizabeth nods.

“I am sure they will make each other very happy.” Dave tells her, Elizabeth looks at him.

“Has he spoken about a proposal?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Prince Ian is very keen on courting her when he arrives in a few months time.” Elizabeth tells the man.

“I’m sure he is...She is a beautiful woman.”

“Yes.” Elizabeth nods with pride, “I do hope The Duke has made a proposal by then, it would be a shame for them to lose this bond they have created.”

“Yes, it would.” he agrees, already working on a plan to change Aaron's mind on his declaration, but as he watches the way he looks at her, he starts to wonder if he will have to.

Jennifer, Penelope and Emily are all being readied for JJ’s wedding when the topic turns to Emily and Aarons newly formed bond.

“He left the ball for you, Emily.” Penelope laughs, “And then took you to your fathers grave. Do not sit there and tell us that you are just friends.”

“We are.” Emily tells them with a laugh.

“Fine.” Penelope says, “But I do not believe you.”

“Nor do I.” Jennifer tells her, “I have seen the smiles the two of you share when you are together.”

Emily laughs as she shakes her head, forcing herself not to react.

“Friends do not look at each other the way you two do.” JJ tells her.

“Yes well… I can assure you there is nothing going on.” Emily informs her friends, “And if we were, it would seem a bit pointless would it not? The man has declared he shall not marry.”

“Maybe it is you who is to change that.” JJ tells her with a raised eyebrow before she is led to the other room to have her dress put on.

“I think the two of you could be really happy.” Penelope tells her with a soft smile. Emily looks and her friend and smiles back, “This could keep you here…”

“Pen,” Emily says, taking the girls hand, “I am not going anywhere, I promise.”

Penelope nods, smiling, “Okay.” She says softly.

Jennifer walks back into the room and the woman gasps.

“JJ, you look beautiful.” Emily tells her, JJ smiles.

“Will is going to lose his mind when he sees you.” Penelope grins.

JJ looks to the floor and laughs, shaking her head. “Roselyn was supposed to be the one is Mother’s dress…”

“Jen..” Emily says, heading towards her, “I bet she’s so happy for you, you know how much she wanted you to have this dress.”

“Yes… I know.” JJ says, “She always said she should not be the one who is in white as she was not the pure one.” the blonde laughs.

“I know how hard it must be to not have her here, but…she would want you to enjoy this day, not be sad.”

“You are right.” JJ says as she wipes her tears, “Are you both ready? We are running late” She laughs. Her friends nod and the blonde smiles.

“I’m getting married.” JJ smiles

“You won't be if you don't make haste.” Emily laughs, and the three women head out, their laughter echoing through the house.

Emily walks down the aisle first and as she's walking she meets Aarons eye, he sends her a wink, a playful smirk on his face and she forces herself to look away, clearing her throat to stop the laughter that bubbles in her chest.

Throughout the wedding, Emily can feel Aarons eye’s on her, she turns to face him after a few moments, her stomach fluttering when he smirks at her again, she pierces her lips together and turns away, trying not to grin herself.

As Jennifer and Will share a kiss, the room cheers for the two of them, Aaron can't help but stare at Emily as she laughs with Will’s brother, he frowns when the man places a hand on her back, whispering something in her ear that makes her laugh and he hates that he can’t help the jealousy that rises in him. He swallows, looking away from them as he reminds himself that he has no right to her, that this whole ruse is for her benefit, he should not be jealous. He looks again in the corner of his eye and the relief that floods him when he catches sight of the man's wedding ring, tells him he's in far too deep than he should be.

The ball to celebrate the marriage is outside and Aaron can help but watch as Emily walks outside, taking a drink with a smile, and he heads her way.

“It seems as well as The Duke I am also a fortune teller.” he says as he comes up next to her, she laughs as she looks his way.

“What?” she questions, laughing.

“I did say you would look beautiful, it seems I was right.” he tells her, and she blushes.

“Thank you.” she smiles, “It seems you clean up well yourself.”

“Yes, but only once a month, do not expect to see this for awhile.” he jokes.

As they talk, Emily catches Elle’s eyes, who is summoning her over.

"I think they want our attention." Emily says pointing towards the group.

"It would seem that way yes." He says, letting her lead the way.

As they reach the group, Elle pulls a bottle from her dress and leads the way to the back of the house with a laugh, her hand finding Spencer's as the group following behind. Emily shivers as they reach the middle of the garden, jumping slightly when something is dropped onto her shoulders before turning to face Aaron, a smile on her face as she wraps herself into his overcoat.

“Thank you.” she whispers, he nods, his own smile on his face.

The group must have been there for over an hour when Elle and Spencer take their leave, soon followed by Luke and Penelope. Derek and Savannah take their leave soon after, as the two stand, Derek looks at the couple remaining.

“Do behave.” He teases, he points a finger at Emily, “Especially you, Miss Prentiss, we have no room for more scandals.”

“I shall do my best.” she plays, he nods, before almost falling backwards over a hedge. Savannah’s laugh carries back to them as they walk away and the two chuckle.

“Do you want to head back?” Aaron asks her, Emily shakes her head.

“Big scenes are not my thing.” She tells him, “Also I think John is here and I am in no mood for him. Not today.” She says sadly, before bringing the bottle to her lips and drinking some. Aaron can’t help but smirk as she doesn’t even flinch at the burn.

“Then we shall stay here.”

“Unchaperoned.” she gasps playfully, “Whatever will people say.” she says as she passes him the bottle.

“Care for a stroll around the garden?” he asks, standing.

“Of course.” she nods, stepping in time beside him.

The walk until they find a bench a few yards from the party.

“It’s nice out here.” she says as they sit, her eyes casting over the gardens.

“Yes, I used to come here as a child to get away from my father. This is where I first met Roselyn years ago.” he smiles.

“Is your father the reason why you left as soon as you could?

“Yes, that and I had no reason to stay.”

“Did you and your father not get on?

“You could say that.” he tells her, he looks in her direction and swallows, “He was cruel, it wasn't a nice environment.”

“I’m sorry.” she says, she takes his hand, he looks down and smiles, squeezing it.

“Yeah, me too.”

“I wish I could leave, you know?” Emily sighs, “Start over somewhere where no one knows me.”

“How come?” he wonders.

“Many reasons, family, mostly,” she laughs, “The expectations..”

“You have that option, with Prince Ian,”

She laughs, “And be a princess? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of no one knowing me?”

“I guess so, along with him being a war criminal, he's not an ideal match.” Aaron teases, she laughs with a nod of her head while she gulps another drink down before passing it over, he takes it with a smile, not missing the way his skin burns as their fingers glide past each other. “Clyde.. He seems to be very protective of you. I’m surprised he's not hunted you down yet.” Aaron tells her before taking his turn of the bottle.

Emily laughs, “He means well, he worries about me, especially because of..” She stops, he looks at her, she shakes her head.

“Sometimes I think my mothers right…” she says, he looks at her, “That I’m just a string of mistakes pulled together.”

“That's not true.” Aaron tells her, she looks to the floor.

“You don't even know me, not really.” Emily tells him with a sad smile and a sigh.

“I’d like to. I think you’re pretty great.” he smiles at her.

“You wouldn't if you knew me.”

“… Try me.” he tells her after a pause.

She looks up, before laughing, shaking her head and bringing the drink to her lips, she passes it to him, he does the same.

“Not even Spencer knows about half of the thing I have been through and I’ve known him my entire life.”

“Is this about your illness? The one your mother took you away for?”

She nods, pulling her hair down and running her hand through it and as he watches her he finds himself wanting to do the same, he imagines its soft and thick, he imagines if he tugged it just right she would- he stops himself and turns away.

“After my father died I—” she pauses, looking at her hands “Shut down, I guess.” she explains, he looks back up at her, leaning his back against the wall as he listens to her, “My mother wasn't around, too busy pulling strings to take over from my father’s position in the courts...so it was just me.. And then I met John and…” Emily says, she sighs before laughing, “Looking back now I know he took advantage but back then I just wanted to feel something that wasn't pain, or grief..”

“You had sex with him?” he asks, she looked away from him and stared in front of her, wiping the tears falling, she nodded.

“Stupid, I know.” she laughs, shaking her head. “I was fifteen and I was hurting and it made me feel better, anything was better.” she tells him, “I..” she says, smiling when she looks at him, his eyes understanding and trusting, she looks in them for a few moments before she nods, “I got pregnant…” she whispers, he looks at her, his only reaction a wide eyed look, but he remain still, silent, ready to listen. “That's why I was gone for two months…” her voice is small and his heart breaks for her, “My mother made me get a termination and my Aunt Erin hid it all, that's why Clyde is the way he is...he doesn't want to see me go through that again.”

“I'm sorry that happened to you.” he whispers,

“It didn't happen to me, it's just.. Something that happened...a string of mistakes..” she laughs, she wipes her eyes and shakes her head

“So, that's me, you can run for the hills, I wont judge.” she laughs, looking away from him.

“I think I'll stay,” he smiles, “After all who else am I going to discuss my antics with foreign beauties with?” He jokes, she laughs and relaxes, a weight off her shoulder that she had finally shared something she’d been forbidden to speak about.

“Ah yes, what did you get up to these last few years?”

Aaron tells her about his travels, laughing with her when he talks about hungover mornings and late night rendezvous.

“I think Paris was my favourite.” he tells her, she nods in agreement.

“My father took me there a few months before he passed, when he was still healthy enough.” Emily tells him, “I am glad I had those few months with him before his illness took over. My mother thinks it was the reason why I behaved the way I did after his passing but, I am glad I was there when he died, that he wasn’t alone.”

“I am sorry.” He tells her, she looks at him and grins while she laughs.

“You’ve said that.”

He grins at her before tilting his head, “I am sorry nonetheless. The loss of a loved parent hurts more than anything I know of.” He tells her, Emily hums in agreement.

“He passed at the end of January and then after that the whole year did not get any better.”

“When did you meet John?”

“In the April..” she informs me, “I fell with child in the October.”

“Did you want it?” He asks her, she shrugs,

“I don't know, I wasn't given a choice.” she explains, “I told my Aunt, who told my mother and I was taken to the farm two weeks later.”

“Does John know?”

“Yes, he says he wanted to marry me,” she laughs, “claims he loved me and that we could have been a family but..” Her sentence dies down, her mind reliving the worst year of her life.

“But you were fifteen…” he says, “Your birthday is in October, I know it couldn't have been an easy month.”

“You know when my birthday is?” she asks with a smile, he nods.

“Of course…” he grins, she laughs happily and turns away from him.

“Is there a reason your mother was against John's plan?” He questions, “It was a good one, people would accept your pregnancy…”

“John is your age, Your Grace.” she laughs. Aaron stares at her taken aback by her announcement, his smile gone, “he was nineteen at the time, My Aunt, she set a law when she became Queen that woman is not to marry until she is 18, so.. It wasn't allowed. I got the termination and he has never really treated me the same since. He actually hated me up until Matthew's death.”

“He never loved you” The Duke tells her with anger on her behalf.

“I know.” she smiled, “He's a rake, Your Grace, I’m well aware.”

“He should not have taken you the way he did. Not at his age.” he says and she takes his hand, smiling when he looks at her.

“I know.” she says again, “But I consented and until October…. he and I had fun... in secret of course,” she grins, “But he is the reason I met Matthew and for that I could never regret what me and John had. Ever since Matthew died he's been trying to get me back, but... I don't know, he's not a good guy, I know that now.”

Aaron stands, bringing her with him by their entwined hands and pulls her close, their faces mere inches from one another, her breath hitches as she holds it, staring at him. The feel of his hand on her lower back send a shiver up her spine, has her heart hammering against her ribs and the feel of her hand rested in his, the feel of her chest pressed up against his own has him entranced, glancing his eyes to her lips before back to her own.

A shout of her name pulls them from their trance. She drops his hand as he drops his from her back and she turns with wide eyes.

“What are you doing out here?” Clyde says casually, until he spots the whiskey bottle and marches over, grabbing her hand and pulling her from Aaron. He stares daggers at the other man, fury taking over.

“Is this what you do?” He directs at the Duke, “Get girls drunk and take them in the garden?”

“Clyde-”

“Sush, Emily, everyone has been worried about you.” he bites, his eye's not leaving Aaron.

“You are lucky it was me that has found the two of you and not someone else, her alone in the garden with a man that could ruin her. As you are well aware, Your Grace.” the man spits.

“We were just talking…” Aaron tells him.

Clyde looks at him, taking in their appearances, her in his coat, her hair falling down her shoulder, him with an untucked shirt and he can only laugh.

“Is that all?” he throws at him.

“Clyde enough, we were just talking.” Emily tells him.

“We’re leaving, Emily. Say goodbye.”

She takes off the jacket and walks to him, a smile on her lips as she hands it to him,

“I’ll see you around, Your Grace, thank you for a good night.”

“You are great company, Miss Prentiss. I look forward to seeing you again.” he says with a grin. She nods, biting her lip, and turns around. Clyde then grabs her arm and pulls her gently, muttering words to her as he all but marches her back to the main garden. As he follows behind a few moments later, he catches her scent in his jacket and smiles.

“That was stupid, Emily. What if someone were to see you?”

"We are courting, are we not?” she lies, “We were just having a conversation.”

“Unchaperoned?”

“He's the duke.” Emily laughs, "What—”

“And you're the niece of The Queen, who, by the way, is on thin ice as is after your ordeal three years prior.”

“Do not dare use that against me.” Emily spits at him, pulling her arm from his hold.

“We are leaving, say your farewell to the bride while I get your mother.”

Emily storms away, putting on a smile when JJ comes up to the side of her.

“Where have you been?” Jennifer laughs.

“Around.” Emily laughs, Jennifer pulls her friend close and drags her to the floor.

“Have you had a good night?” Emily asks her.

“Yes.” she smiles, “I have.”

“Good, I am glad.” Emily tells her friend as JJ pulls her in for a hug.

“Thank you, for this morning. I could not have done that without you.”

“You are welcome.” Emily whispers, they pull away and JJ laughs as Emily twirls her.

The girls are still laughing when Clyde walks over.

“We are leaving.” he tells her, JJ frowns.

“May I ask why?”

“Her mother is feeling unwell, I am sorry for the early departure, Miss… I do guess it's Lamontagne now.” Clyde smiles, Emily laughs and turns to her friend as the woman’s face drops.

“I did not think of that…” JJ says, “Jennifer Lamontagne… Can I not keep Jareau?” She whispers, Emily laughs.

“That is a conversation for you and Will.”

“Come, Emily, make haste.” Clyde says as he looks around for Aaron. Emily rolls her eyes before pulling her friend in for a hug.

“Have a good night..” Emily tells her with a wink, JJ blushes. “Enjoy your week away.”

“I am sure I will.” JJ tells her, “If your words are anything to go by I am sure I-”

“On that note.” Clyde interrupts and drags Emily away as she laughs. JJ chuckles to herself, watching as Emily laughs as she is pulled away. They walk past Aaron on their way out and the two smile at each other, Aaron turning to watch her go, before frowning, worry settling in his stomach when her mother grabs her arm, all but dragging her out of view.

Elizabeth slams the door behind her as Emily walks ahead, jumping at the loud sound the door makes.

“Even after everything you've done you still find more ways to cause trouble.”

“We were just talking, mother...” Emily sighs as she turns to face her in the hall.

“I do not think you know how to do just talking, Emily.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I am saying that you seem to not know any better. You will drop your garments for anyone who pays you just the littlest bit of attention!” Elizabeth shouts. Emily stares at her with shock before laughing and shaking her head.

“I have done nothing wrong.” Emily tells her mother, “It is not my fault you are choosing not to believe me.”

“Have you ever given me a reason to believe you?”

Elizabeth walks up to her daughter, standing face to face with her and all Emily can do is holds her head high and raise an eyebrow.

“You are the biggest burden of my life and I can no longer pretend that you and your reputation are not something that follows this family name like a dark cloud.” Elizabeth tells her daughter, “You are used goods, and you are silly if you think The Duke wants anything more from you than what you have probably already given him. Girls like you always get the powerful men just before they are ready to settle down, you will never be the one he chooses, and you are naïve if you think differently.” she hisses, before knocking her shoulder as she walks past, the slam of the office door making her jump as she lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the stair rail as she leans back, closing her eyes as she forces herself not to cry before rushing up the stairs. She closes her door with her back and falls down as a cry leaves her body. She grabs the necklace around her neck as she cries, wondering is maybe her mother right.

In the Duke’s mansion, Aaron is listening to his Uncle’s rant.

“You cannot take a lady into the garden unchaperoned, and especially not the Royal Niece.”

“We were just talking.” Aaron explains.

“I know of your behaviour, Aaron. I know of your relations with women before you even left for your travels and I am not stupid enough to believe that you did not continue those...activities while you were away. And I am sure you are aware of her past relationship with John.. can you see where I may have issues with believing the two of you were just talking?” Dave questions, but he stays silent.

“I do not think you really understand how much trouble this could have caused.” Dave tells him, “Elizabeth is… she is not a nice woman, not to her daughter or anyone really… but to Emily she is especially cruel, maybe not in the way your father was but in her way of words.” Dave tells him, “I have heard Clyde comfort her many a time when her mother has spat evil things at her, and after tonight's events…” Dave looks Aaron in the eyes, before speaking, “Her mother will force that young girl to marry Prince Ian, he is just a few years older than you Aaron, and I have met him and he is very charming, if not dangerously so. She is young, impressionable. She will be forced to marry and she will be sent to Ireland. You are in a position to change that." Dave tells him, "So change it."

Aaron spots her for the first time in two days at the Garcia Ball, celebrating the Lord’s birthday. He walks to her, she smiles in his direction, he smiles back and once he arrives at her side, he notices that Clyde will not leave it.

“Upon request of my mother I am to stand still and look pretty.” she explains as his eyes move from hers to Clyde.

“So I guess a dance is out of the question?” he questions, Emily chuckles as Clyde stares at him. She turns to look at him, the word please being playfully spoken and the man rolls his eyes before nodding.

“Thank you.” she smiles, Clyde nods, watching them with a small grin as they walk off.

“I am sorry if our antics got you into trouble with your mother.” he says as he takes her hand.

“Do not worry, it is fine.” she smiles, “My Mother did not even notice, it was my Aunt who sent Clyde to search for me. I feel she is more mad about that.” Emily tells him, “And if Clyde hadn't caused such a big scene we could have snuck back in undetected so I am blaming him, that much he is aware of.” she laughs. “I hope you were not in trouble with your Uncle?”

He shakes his head, “he wants what's best for me really, he knows I would never disrespect you.”

Emily smiles, “He seems nice.”

“He is. I know he wishes he could respect mine, but unfortunately he cannot, I am the last Hotchner, and he knows I should carry on the name.” he explains

“You still don't want to?”

“I do not, I told my father I wouldn't. I will not give him what he wants.”

“Your grace—"

“Call me Aaron, if people are to believe we are courting you should call me by name,”. zhe smirks,

“Aaron, your father is dead, he has no power over you anymore.”

“Yes, and it will remain that way,”

“And if your mind changes and it's too late?”

“I will be happy in knowing my father never got what he wanted." he tells her and she looks at him with sad eyes.

“I am sorry that the man was that cruel you feel you cannot live the life you want...”

“I am.”

“Are you?”

He looks at her and she sighs.

“You never wanted to marry? Have a family? Not ever?”

“I—” he begins, but there is a tap on his shoulder, they both turn and Derek smiles at them.

“Miss Prentiss," he smirks, “May I have this dance? We have a matter we must discuss, urgently.”

She frowns, before taking his hand, nodding her head to Aaron before being lead away by Derek. Aaron watches them go, stepping backwards, turning with an apology when he bumps into someone. Penelope simply shakes her head, playfully holding out her hand and laughing when he takes it.

“You and Em look really happy, I am glad you're both working on something, you deserve it.”

“Thank you Miss Garcia, how is your father?” he asks her, watching Derek and Emily in the corner of his eyes.

“I heard that you and him were in the garden, alone yesterday,”

“You did?”

“Yes, it seems that someone over heard the conversation yesterday.

“I see.” she nods.

“This could ruin you.” Derek warns, she simply rolls her eyes.

“Its fine." she tells him.

“So the two of you are courting? “

Emily looks at him and nods. “Yes.” she lies.

“And you are aware of the declaration that he will not marry?”

“I am.” Emily confirms.

“And so what is your plan? You have to marry, Emily, I know you don't want to but you do not have a choice.”

“I’m aware.” Emily groans.

“And so what?”

“Do not worry, Derek, everything is under control.”

“If you do not have a marriage proposal in three months your mother will make you marry Prince Ian.”

“Actually as long as I am courting with Aaron she has backed off, she believes he will propose soon.” she smirks.

“But he will not…” he tells her.

“No, but, as long as I do not have to marry a war criminal, I find that I do not care."

“So you're leading him on in hopes of getting out of marrying Prince Ian…”

“Everything is under control, Derek, please, do not worry.”

“I'm afraid I do, and I will. Always.” Derek tells her and she smiles.

“I know, and I thank you for that, but right now there is no need.” Emily assures him.

“If you say so, Miss Prentiss.” he accepts with a nod.

Emily rolls her eyes, “will you drop the Miss Prentiss already?”

Derek laughs and twirls her, before pulling her back into him, “Never.” he whispers and she laughs.

She makes eye contact with Aaron over Derek's shoulder and he smiles at her, she smiles back as her heart flutters at the grin on his face, she looks away with a small smile of her own.

Aaron spots John across the room sometime later, and with a frown notices he is staring at Emily with an angered eye and a whiskey in his hand. Emily is standing on the other side of the room talking to Viscount Andrew Mendoza, as he watches her smile at something he says, he feels a pool of jealousy erupt in him, one that is getting harder to ignore. Taking a deep breath he heads out of the room and into the gardens for some fresh air, only for him name to be called a few seconds later.

“If it isn’t the man who stole my woman…” John slurs, Aaron just stares plainly at him. “Do you know about her and I?” John asks, stepping step closer to The Duke. “That we love each other? That it is I who should be marrying her? That the two of us have a past you can not compete with?” He starts to yell as he steps closer to him, the man laughing as he gets no reaction, “Is she giving you what you want, Your Grace?” He smiles smugly, “She is good isn’t she…” He smiles, “Very bendy.” He whispers, “God the things I used to be able to make her do..” John tells him, and Aaron loses it, grabbing the man by his shirt and pulling him behind the building before he drops him and throws a punch. John stumbles onto the floor and Aaron leans over him, picking him up by his shirt, and stares into his eyes with fury.

“If you ever speak of or too, Emily Prentiss ever again, I can and I will have you taken care of faster than you think, and I'd make it so that no one knew you were missing.” Aaron spits in a harsh quiet tone, “Do you understand?” Aaron asks him, and the man simply nods, dropping the the floor with a grunt as Aaron lets him go, looking at the man with a look of disgust before walking off.

Aaron walks through the door at the entrance of the house just as Emily and her family are heading towards the exit. He can hear Elizabeth talking to her daughter about Viscount Mendoza and he forces himself not to roll his eyes, reminding himself that this was the whole point, to give her time to find someone. When he hears Emily laugh he swears he feels his heart ache, but flutter at the same time.

“He is nice, yes.” Emily agrees with a hum of content.

“His father is also very powerful, he would leave a lot of money and power to Andrew in the wake of his death.”

“Mother—” Emily frowns, but Elizabeth just shrugs her shoulders.

“Just something to think about.” she tells her daughter.

Aaron appears in front of them, almost bumping right into Emily as he has his head turned in the opposite direction after hearing footsteps outside.

Emily laughs at the collision, smiling when he looks at her but the smile soon drops when his face looks back at her with anger, not directed at her. She stares at him with a frown before catching sight of his hand and grabbing it, looking back at him.

“What happened?” Emily asks softly, the tone of worry in her voice makes his anger fade and turn into something… he didn’t quite know how to describe.

“Nothing,” he tells her, “It’s fine.”

Emily stares at him, dropping his hand when she feels eyes of them.

“Your hand is bleeding, Your Grace…” Erin says, Aaron looks at her with a soft smile.

“Yes,” He says, “I must get it seen to, if you'll excuse me…” he nods his head in a bow at her and goes to walk away when he sees his Uncle walking towards him, he curses under his breath and goes to turn and faces Emily, who is looking at him with confusion.

“What is going on?” She asks him in a quiet voice, he shakes his head.

“Nothing,” He smiles, “Lady Prentiss..” Aaron says, Elizabeth turns and smiles.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Do you mind if I steal your daughter for a moment?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth tells him with a smile, he smiles back at her and nods, before grabbing Emily’s hand and quickly rushing from the scene, the speed causes her to almost trip as she is pulled by him.

“What are you doing?” Emily asks as he tries to keep her balance as he pulls her, not giving her enough time to get her feet at the same speed.

Her family are still staring when he drags her behind the wall and into another hallway.

“That was strange..” Elizabeth says.

“Yes, yes it was.” The other woman agrees.

“Shall I follow?” Clyde suggest to them.

“I think that would be smart.” they tell him and Clyde nods, heading in their direction.

“Did I just see my dear Nephew run off with your Niece, Your Majesty?” Dave says as he comes up behind them and the woman turn.

“You did.”

“Did he give a reason?”

“He did not.” Elizabeth tells him “His hand was bloody though, Mr Rossi. Is there something we should know about?”

“No of course not.” Rossi smiles, “The Duke is very polite.”

“If he lays a hand on my Niece I will ruin him, you do know that, yes?”

“Yes, I am aware, but he would never, he’s his mothers son, not his fathers.”

“You better be right in that. My daughter is not one to mess with…”

“Of course, if you don't mind I think I shall go after them…” Rossi says, before talking of in a fast walk down the hall.

Aaron pulls her along, stopping them when they're in an empty room, closing the door behind him.

“What is going on?” She asks. Aaron just looks at his sore hand as he shakes it.

“Sit.” Emily tells him, pointing to a chair, he stares at her but she raises an eyebrow and he sighs, sitting. Emily walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a few wipes before heading back to him and sitting on the chair next to his. She holds her hand out and he rolls his eyes before placing his injured one in it.

“What happened?” Emily asks, he looks away.

“Nothing.” he mumbles.

“Yes it looks like nothing to me.”

“It's fine.”

“Did you get into a fight?” she asks.

“Something like that..”

“With whom?”

Aaron sighs, “Emily, I do not see how that is your business.”

“You are the one that dragged me here.” she reminds him, “For what if not to talk?”

“I like your company.” he smiles and Emily holds back a smirk, piercing her lips and looks back his hand.

“It is a small cut, you'll be fine.”

“Thank you.” Aaron grins, she nods with a small smile of her own, his hand remaining in hers.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Emily asks him quietly. He looks at her with a small smile and the shake of his head.

“There is no need, it's over now.”

“You are okay?”

“Yes, I am now.” he smiles at her and she smiles back, laughing as she bites her lip and looks away when his grin gets wider at the sound of her small laugh.

“What is going on in here?” Clyde says as he walks through the door, both their heads snap up to the door.

“Nothing, everything is fine.” Aaron tells him.

“You drag my cousin out by her arm in front of her family…”

“I asked her mother,” He tells him, Emily holds back a laugh and looks back to the floor.

“Yes for a moment not to drag her away.” Clyde snaps, “You should know The Queen is quite displeased with the display, considering the blood on your hand. “ Clyde informs them, “Which I see now is being treated.” He says and Emily drops his hand and places her own in her lap.

Aaron looks at him, “Everything is fine, Your Highness, I just needed a moment.”

“With my cousin?” Clyde questions, Aaron smiles,

“Who else?” he throws back.

Clyde doesn't have a chance to respond before Dave is barging into the room.

“What in the world is wrong with you?” The man hisses and Aaron rolls his eyes.

“You drag the Niece of The Queen away and into an empty room all while your hand bleeds? The Queen is not happy, neither is her mother.”

“Like I just told the prince everything is fin-”

“It is not fine my boy.” Dave interrupts, “ You forget your father was friends with The King, as well as the late Lord Prentiss. The whole family is aware of his temper. You dragging away Miss Prentiss with no explanation…” Rossi shakes his head and stares at him. “And I have seen the state you have left John in, the young man is stumbling down the road, his face covered in blood.”

“You fought John?” Emily questions, looking at Aaron, he goes to turn and face her when Rossi continues.

“Do you want them to believe you are your fathers son?” Rossi questions, Aaron stares at him.

“I am nothing like him.” Aaron tells him, his voice hard and serious, the tone causes Emily to look at him and Clyde walks over to her.

“I know that but how are they too? You come into the room with a bloody hand and pull a woman away? Not to mentio-”

Aaron stands and steps towards him “Compare to me that man again and I will have you taken care of faster than you can blink.” Aaron hisses, “Remember your status, you are not a Hotchner, you are where you are because I allow you to be.” Aaron spits, his voice low and venomous. Rossi stares at him, and nods.

“The way you act now.. you look just like him.” Rossi says and Aaron steps back and collects himself, his temper back under control. He looks at Emily quickly and hates that that he is the reason there is a hint of fear in her eyes as she grabs onto Clyde's arm

“I think I should like to go…” Emily tells Clyde softly.

“Of course.” Clyde nods.

“Emil-” Aaron tries,

“I will see you around, Your Grace.” She says with a nod, and allows Clyde to walk her away.

As they round the corner, Emily looks at her cousin.

“He's.. got a temper…” Emily whispers, Clyde nods.

“Yes it would seem that way.”

“I have never seen that side to him before.”

“Good.”

“I find I did not like it.”

“I doubt he would ever be like that with you,” Clyde tells her. “I have known the man for years, he is more like his mother than his father.”

Emily nods and Clyde stops them, she looks at him as he stands in front of her.

“If I felt him dangerous, he would not be anywhere near you, you know that.”

“Yes I do.” She smiles, he nods.

“Good, let's get you home. It has been a long night.”

Emily hums in agreement, turning back around and finding Aaron staring at her as he and David walk out of the room, she turns when his eyes find her and follows Clyde round the corner.

Aaron goes to the Prentiss house the next day to find her, needing to apologize for the night before, unable to rest with the pang of guilt that lingers in his stomach.

“Your Grace, how unexpected. " Clyde says when he opens the door "I'm afraid Emily is unavailable today…” He tells her.

Aaron frowns, “Is she okay?”

“She is fine.” Clyde nods.

“Then… Can I see her?” Aaron questions with confusion.

“I'm afraid not, You Grace, she is not up for visitors.” Clyde tells him, Aaron looks back at him.

“So she isn't okay? Will you please just tell me what is wrong?” Aaron asks.

“Miss Prentiss is ill, Your Grace, and her mother has made the decision to not allow visitors until she is seen by a doctor, I am sure you understand.” Clyde tells him.

“How ill?” Aaron asks, worry in his face, Clyde sighs.

“Aaron,” he sighs, and steps forward, shutting the door, before facing him with a deep breath, “Emily is unwell. She woke today with a high fever and a cough.” he explains, before swallowing and looking Aaron in the face, “The last time we saw this was her father." He whispers and Aarons heart drops.

“Lady Prentiss and my Mother are inside, she is being well cared for but until she is seen by a doctor there are no visitors allowed.”

Aaron looks at him and Clyde can see the worry on his face. “I think she will be fine, I believe it to just be a slight flu but to be cautious she is being seen by a doctor today.”

“She.. she was fine yesterday…” Aaron stutters as he tries to calm the worry that grows in him.

“Indeed she was, which is why I am not worried. Her father was ill before these symptoms, but our family is worried, Emily is never ill."

“Do you..do you think it could be something dangerous? Late onset of what her father had…” Aaron asks.

“I am not sure, but as soon as I know anymore I will have someone inform you.” Clyde tells the worried man. “I will tell her you called, Aaron, but I must get back inside.

“Of course. Do let me know.”

“I shall, good day.”

“Yes, good day, Clyde.”

The man walks in the house and Aaron heads away from the door, his mind reeling, worried right to the pit of his stomach.

Clyde walks back in, into the room with his mother and aunty.

“Was that The Duke?"

“Yes, I told him of Emily's condition, he seemed quite worried.” Clyde tells her.

“Yes, the two of them are quite close." Erin smiles. "Maybe he should call over in a few days.."

“He is not to be anywhere near my daughter while she is like this, anything could happen.” Elizabeth scolds as she paces the door awaiting the doctor.

“Dear sister, do calm down, I merely meant she may like to see him, he will not be alone with her.”

“I am not sure, what do we really know of this man anyway?”

“He’s The Duke, not a War Criminal like the man you have lined up.”

“I just want my daughter to be able to have a fresh start.”

“I’m sure you do, however she does not, she and The Duke are getting on and when the doctor gives the green light, he shall come over and that's final.”

The doctor then heads down the stairs, interrupting the argument.

“How is she?” Elizabeth asks.

“She has quite a high fever and that cough is definitely something to keep watch on, but her chest and lungs seem to be clear, I heard no sign for concern when listening to her breathing, I think it to be a rough flu, lots of rest and some hot liquids and she should be fine a in a few days.” He tells the family.

“So we do not need to be concerned that the symptoms mirror that of what her father died from?” Elizabeth questions.

“No, I do not believe so. Antony had lots of fluid in his lungs from the start, I would have heard the first stages of it during my visit today.”

“Thank you, doctor, I shall have a hot tea sent to her straight away.” Elizabeth says, the doctor nods and sees himself out.

"I will go and inform her of The Duke's visit."

Clyde goes into Emily’s room after a tap on her door, he looks as her and she is wrapped in bed, half asleep, he sits on the chair next to her, and she smiles

“Hey…” she crocks.

“Hey.” he says back, “The Duke called for you.”

“He did?” Emily questions as she opens her eyes slightly more.

“Yes. I imagine he wants to apologize for his behaviour last night.”

“Hm.."

“I told him of your condition and he seemed quite worried,” Clyde tells her, “The Duke cares a lot for you.”

Emily smiles as her eyes drop closed.

“Rest, I shall let The Duke know you will be fine, I'm sure he would like to see you at some point over the next few days, once you're able to get out of bed, that is.” he jokes.

“Thank you," she smiles and he nods, closing the door behind him.

Three days later he calls around again, flowers in his hand, he walks through the house, thanking the woman he leads him to the living room and Clyde turns at the sound of footsteps.

“Are those for Emily?” he asks.

“Would you rather them be for you?” Aaron teases, Clyde laughs.

“She is the second room to the right, I trust you to behave.” he says with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course.” Aaron tells him with a wink and Clyde points a finger at him.

“There are three maids up there, I have asked them to watch out for the both of you.”

Aaron laughs, “Trust me, I will not be misbehaving, the woman is unwell... I do not wish to catch it.”

“You are a funny man I see.” Clyde notes and Aaron smirks before he heads up the stairs.

He taps on Emily's door and opens it at her small come in. She is sitting on her window seat, clutching her necklace that he has noticed before. She looks at him and smiles, standing up.

“Are those for me?” she teases, a smile on her face.

“No, I'm afraid I'm courting the maid next door... these are for her.” He tells her.

“Ahh,” she nods, “found true love I see.”

“Of course, she is quite the woman.”

“Yes,” Emily smirks, he smiles back as he passes her the flowers.

“Thank you, they're beautiful.” she puts them in a vase on her vanity and faces him

“Join me,” she says, before heading towards her window, “The city is busy today, I like to watch people.” He sits across from her, watching her as she looks outside, she finds him starting, she laughs,

“What?”

“Nothing, just good to see you’re feeling better.”

“Yes, my cough is still quite heavy but my fever is gone as well as the aches”

“I’m glad, the balls are a lot less fun without someone whose company I like..” He grins as she looks at him with a smile.

“Is that you telling me you missed me?” she questions.

“Hmm maybe it is..” he says to her.

“Hmm, I guess I could say I missed you too.” she replies, he laughs.

“You guess?

“Yes.” she tells him before looking out the window, but he can’t help but stare at the smile on her lips long enough to look away.

“Spencer and Elle seem pretty happy these days.” she says, watching them as they stroll down the city.

“Yes, I think he will propose soon.”

“They make a nice couple.”

“Indeed.” he agrees and she smiles, looking at him from the side.

“That is a nice necklace.” he tells her as she looks at it, she smiles.

“My father got it for me from Paris a few months before he passed for my birthday.” she opens it and passes it to him.

“It's beautiful."

"Thank you." she says quietly.

“He sounds like a great man.”

“He was.” she says softly as he passes the necklace back to her. After a few moments of peaceful, comfortable silence he speaks.

“I wanted to apologise for the other night. The way I acted.”

“It’s okay.” she smiles.

“It is not.” he tells her, she looks at him, “My father was cruel and… being compared to him made me see red, but I should not have reacted in the way I did in front of you and for that I am sorry.”

“I am sorry for how I reacted.” she tells him, “ I am not scared of you.”

Aaron smiles, “Good. I would never hurt you.” he tells her, “I promise.” he smiles.

“I know,” She smiles back, “But thank you… for promising.”

He looks at her, nodding.

As they look out the window blissfully, enjoying easy conversation, it hits him like a wave that the thought of her doing this with someone else makes his blood boil, and that he cannot see himself ever doing this with anyone else.

Emily finds herself stuck between wanting to ask him what this was now and not wanting to know, because if she falls by herself… she doesn't know if she’ll be able to get back up again. Not this time.

After that he doesn't see her for a few days, his work as Duke taking over, he is taking a walk with Dave, discussing work when he spots her with their friends, as well as Viscount Andrew Mendoza.

“It seems Miss Prentiss has company.” Rossi tells him.

“Yes, I see that.”

“If you don't propose soon you will lose her.”

“I have told you before, I do not intend to marry. How many more times shall I tell you this?”

“So, are you going to allow yourself to lose Miss Prentiss just to spite your late father? Does he still remain that powerful to you?”

Hotch doesn't answer, just watches Emily as they pass the group, all seven nod their head, Emily gives him a smile and a small wave, he nods back with a smile and carries on his walk.

“You and The Duke are good friends, yes?” Andrew asks her.

“Yes, you could say that.” Emily agrees.

“Hmm, I heard rumors the two of you were courting…” he says, she nods.

“You did?”

“Indeed.”

Emily just nods at him, a smile on her lips, "Just a rumour." she tells him, and forces herself not to turn to watch Aaron walk away.

“You are staring.” Derek tells him that night as they all stand in the middle of the room, Aaron rolls his eyes.

“No.” he says, “I am just simply observing.”

Derek laughs, “You’ve fallen for her.” Aaron looks at him , “Maybe that vow to never marry wasn't very well planned.

“We are just friends.” Aaron tells him, “And she has had a few day’s out with Mendoza.”

Derek just laughs once again, “You are being stupid. Mendoza is trying but I have been there when they are talking and she is somewhere else, Aaron. She likes you.”

He tries to ignore the hope that flutters in his chest.

Andrew smiles at her, "I gather you and The Duke are just friends?"

“We are…” she tells him.

“Do I save myself the embarrassment of assuming you will be available when I am back?”

She smiles, “I don’t know.”

“Is that so?” the man asks her with a raised eyebrow.

“I have no idea what things will be like in three months.” she tells him, he looks at her.

“I guess we wait and see then.”

Emily grins, “I guess we do.”

As the dance changes she is twirled from him and lands in Aaron embrace, she smiles.

“I have not seen you tonight.” She says, he nods.

“I have been mingling upon request.” He complains, Emily grins.

“You don’t seem to like many people do you?” she asks.

“I do not.” he agrees, before smiling at her and pulling her closer to him, “You are the rare exception.” He whispers, she smiles at him, before laughing as he pushes her back and then into him again.”

“Andrew Mendoza seems to think you are going to propose to me.” She tells him, he looks at her, “He is leaving for business for a few months and is under the impression will be on our way to marriage by then.” She’s laughing, shaking her head.

“My mind has not changed..” he tells her, she looks at him and nods.

“I know,” she says softly, “And this isn't real anyway, right?” She points out, meeting his eyes, hating that there's a hope in her chest that he might change his mind.

“Right…” he agrees softly, a pain in his chest catching him off guard.

They separate, each heading in different direction of the room.

Both of them far too scared to admit its a lot more than a ruse anymore.

tag list - @eprcntiss @ssa-m-187 @ssa-sparks @suckerforhotchniss @sarahhotchner @multi-obsessions @florenceremingtonthethird @whaleinginwater join the list here

#hotchniss fic #hotchniss 1800 au #hotchniss #hope u like besties

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cacoetheswriting · 3 years

Text

champagne problems, epilogue

Epilogue: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby: The beginning of the end. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol consumptions, other than that just a big ball of FLUFF !

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A/N: holy shit, this is the end!!! i had so much fun writing this little series, but it wouldn't have been the same without all of you reading, so seriously thank you! now, if anyone on the story taglist would like to be moved to my general spencer reid taglist just let me know, other than that i hope you enjoy this very last chapter!

Ever since you were little, you dreamt of your wedding day.

The elegant white dress you would wear, the way you’d style your hair, how your dream venue would look, the perfect guest list, the flowers, the track list, and of course, your husband to be.

You imagined he’d be handsome, a prince to accompany your dream of becoming a princess. You imagined he’d be smart, trustworthy, courageous, and caring. You imagined he’d be funny, make you laugh even when you didn’t want to smile. You imagined he’d be a great listener and have a heart of gold. And you imagined he would always put you first, no matter what.

Dr. Spencer Reid, your husband, was everything you imagined and so much more.

“I believe it was Paulo Coelho who once said, Love is just a word. Until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” All eyes were on Rossi, who with a glass of champagne in the air was delivering a speech he swore he hadn't prepared prior to this moment, “Now, when Y/N and Spencer broke the news and told the team they were finally tying the knot, I personally couldn't have been more thrilled.”

Everyone nodded along to his words as he continued, “And I think I speak for everyone gathered here today when I say these two are made for each other.”

Rossi glanced between the tables until his gaze finally landed on you and the brunette doctor beside you. “To the bride and groom. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The gathered crowd erupted simultaneously, and what followed was the loud clinking of glasses.

You turned to face Spencer. The hazel-eyed man was already looking at you, a warm smile circling his lips.

“Cheers, my husband.” You lifted your champagne flute a little higher, as he chuckled lightly before following suit, “Cheers, my wife.” Without breaking eye contact, the two of you chinked your glasses together and took a sip of the bubbling liquid.

The evening slowly turned into night. Dozens of tiny fairy lights illuminated the venue, accompanied by the shimmering hue of the disco ball in the middle of the dance floor. Not a single body was sitting down. Everyone swayed to the music, rejoicing in the love which was so clearly floating in the air.

Spencer had his arms wrapped around you, the palms of his hands resting on your lower back. Your arms were around his neck, tips of your fingers tangling in the ends of his soft curls.

The song currently playing was quite fast, but neither of you were particularly keen on the comforting embrace ending - even though you had the rest of your lives to hold each other.

Next to the two of you, on your left, Emily and Tara were jumping around to the beat of the music, while JJ filmed them. Rossi and Will observed the spectacle with drinks in hand and loudly cheered the ladies on. On your right, Penelope was engaged in a dance battle with Derek - one she was undoubtedly winning. Matt, Kristy, and Savannah watched the pair in fits of laughter. And all of the kids ran circles around the gathered group, playing a game of tag with Luke.

“What’s on your mind?” Spencer questioned quietly, after noticing the look of contemplation gracing your features.

“Hmm... I’m just trying to remember the last time we were all together, and this... carefree.” You replied, meeting the ever so welcoming hazel gaze of your husband.

Spencer smiled softly at your response. “Well, we’re here now.” He simply stated, and you couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes.

“You know what doctor, for an extremely outspoken man, and one who seemingly possesses more knowledge than all of us here tonight, you can be very cryptic sometimes.”

“I have to keep a few things to myself, otherwise you'd loose interest in me.” He joked with a chuckle.

The comment earned him another eye roll. You moved one hand from behind his neck and lifted it in between you, curling all fingers inwards apart from the ring finger. His gaze travelled to the notion and the grin on his face widened, because he knew what you were about to say.

“I’m stuck with you now, forever and ever and ever, whether I loose interest or not.” You teased. Spencer’s hand found yours and he brought the finger to his mouth, before pressing a soft kiss to the ring.

“I wouldn't dream of being stuck with anyone else.” Spencer proclaimed, and proceeded to attach his lips to yours in a blissful exchange of breaths. The kiss was short and sweet. Similar to many you’ve shared before, yet different at the same time. Better almost, because he was no longer just Dr. Spencer Reid, he was your Dr. Spencer Reid, and you were now Mrs. Reid.

“I love you, my husband.” You muttered against his lips after pulling away. He smiled, “And I love you, my wife.”

Spencer spun you around once, causing a light giggle to escape you, before he pecked your lips again.

“May I steal her for a moment?” It was Luke who asked, appearing beside the two of you almost out of breath.

“The kids really wore you out, huh?” You teased as Luke smirked, “Oh definitely! Which is why I’d like a dance with the lovely bride so I can compose myself.” He extended his arm and you linked yours with ease.

Shooting Spencer a smile, you disappeared into the crowd with Luke. The doctor watched you for a moment, once again wondering how the hell he got so lucky, when his thoughts were interrupted by a clearing of the throat. He turned his head to find your dad also looking in your direction.

“She’s beautiful, isn't she?” Your dad asked.

“Extremely.” Spencer whispered back, loud enough for Anthony to hear.

The older gentleman shifted in his position, facing Spencer completely. “Thank you.” Anthony stated and extended his arms to wrap them tightly around Spencer. “Thank you for keeping an eye on her, son.”

“I’ll continue to do so for the rest of my life. Nothing’s gonna hurt her ever again, sir” Spencer replied, before quickly correcting himself, “Anthony.”

The older man chuckled lightly as he pulled away. He straightened his tie and proceeded to place his hands on Spencer’s shoulders. “I’ve wanted to say this for quite some time now.” He paused briefly. “Call me dad, son.”

The unexpected request caused the smile on Spencer's face to widen ever so slightly. He didn’t waste time to nod his head in agreement and with one last hand shake, he observed Anthony make his way through the bodies and steal you from Luke for a dance of his own.

Spencer’s heart soared as he watched you sway to the music. In this moment, he was glad he had an eidetic memory that would allow him to remember this sight forever. How filled with joy you seemed, and how ethereal you looked in your white wedding dress under thousands of fairy lights.

Your eyes locked with his amid the celebrating crowd. Amid the off-key singing and crazy dancing. Amid the drinking and loud cheering. Amid every single person that was currently partying between you and Spencer. When his hazel gaze found yours, it felt as if there was no-one else present.

And you were suddenly filled with immense gratitude for everything that has happened since you met the handsome doctor. Grateful for every single step which lead to this very this very moment. Grateful for him, for Spencer.

Your husband.

Today was like any other day.

You woke up at your usual time to the sound of your alarm. You had coffee, and a quick bite to eat while aimlessly scrolling through the social media apps on your phone. You showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed, did your makeup. And when it was time to leave, you walked out the front door locking it behind you, hopped in your car, and drove to work.

Today was like any other day. Except that it wasn’t.

Today wasn’t like any other day because while you carried out all of your menial morning tasks, you felt a great deal happier. Because you weren't doing them alone, and with Spencer by your side, you won't ever have to again.

You finally found your happily ever after.

A/N: from the bottom of my heart thank you for your continuous support and going on this journey with me. with love, mal. x

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story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0, @calm-and-doctor, @halseysunset, @ellesgreenaway, @chipot-lol,

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#champagne problems series #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid series #spencer reid story #spencer reid songfic #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid x reader

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lightbeyondeden · 4 years

Text

Beachouse

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

a/n: i like to imagine this one with like,, season 4 spence cause I think that just the right amount of innocent yet horny for this oneshot but it's up to you. Also i used a bunch of dialogue prompts from this list :) see if you can spot them!

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: kinda smut!! spencer being horny, alcohol, cursing, makeout sesh with heavy petting lol

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She was trying to kill him.

As a man of logic and reasoning, Spencer had concluded the only probable reason his very attractive coworker would insist on parading around the small cabin the team had rented for the weekend in those tiny white cotton shorts was that she wanted to kill him.

Spencer had always found her attractive. He would’ve had to have been blind not to, and even if he was he still would’ve fallen for the sound of her laugh or the way she left the smell of lavender wherever she sat on the jet or how she was always first to fall asleep after long days spent working cases.

So maybe he had fallen in love with her - even if he hadn’t quite admitted it to himself yet. Love, however, was not quite what he felt as he watched Y/n walk lazily into the kitchen on that Saturday morning.

Spencer had been sitting on one of the barstools that lined the kitchen counter and sipping on a very sugary cup of coffee. He was passively listening to both the birds chirping outside the oversized cabin window and JJ’s latest story about Henry. He had felt nothing but peace, until she walked in.

She was wearing a baby blue tank top (with no bra, not that Spencer was looking of course it’s just that as she was walking in and his eyes just happened to graze over her hard nip-, nevermind.) and those white shorts. The outfit was probably perfect for sleeping in the cabin that - even now in the early hours of the morning - remained hot and humid. It was not, however, perfect for just chatting with Spencer, he already felt an uncomfortable stirring in his pants.

“Hey guys.” She smiled, voice still soft with sleep.

“Hi Y/n, you sleep well?” JJ said without missing a beat, “Lemme get you some coffee.”

JJ got out of her seat and set to work making a new cup of coffee from the keurig that sat on the counter behind her.

“Thank you Jayge, you’re my favourite.” Y/n laughed.

Spencer watched with intent as she brushed her hand through her bedhead and took her own seat at the counter across from him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/n said as she locked eyes with Spencer.

Crap, he hadn’t meant to stare. Honestly though, he couldn’t help it. So much of her body was on display and though Spencer considered himself to be a respectful man, he had dreamt of that body more times than he cared to admit and seeing it like this was driving him crazy.

“Like what?” He replied, hoping that playing dumb would get him out of this.

She eyed him suspiciously, however Spencer was saved from the incoming interrogation by JJ returning, coffee in hand.

Y/n gratefully took the cup in her hands and sipped in gently. Try as he might, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at her over and over again as conversation between the three resumed.

Slowly the rest of the team began to wake up and wander into the kitchen. Conversation was playful and light, this vacation being exactly the break they needed from their stressful work lives. It may have only been four days, but any amount of time that they didn’t have to spend talking about all the horrible things they saw each day was time they thoroughly enjoyed.

“So I was thinking we could take a trip down to that hidden beach the airBNB people were telling us about. It would be fun to all go swimming together!” Penelope had said, big doe eyes daring someone to try telling her no.

So that's why a team of thirty to fifty somethings were all walking down a wooden boardwalk together, arms filled with floaties and towing a wagon full of snacks (wagon courtesy of JJ). Spencer just happened to look over at Y/n at the exact moment the beach came into view, and he couldn’t have been more grateful for that because getting to see the way her face lit up when she saw the lake made his day.

“There's a doc!?” She squealed, “Morgan! I’ll race you to it.”

And just like that - the two of them took off, splashing into the water and yelling playful challenges and insults at each other, Emily and Penelope close behind. Spencer just chuckled as he settled down into the sand with a pile of books beside them.

Truth be told he didn’t get much reading done. He chatted with JJ and Rossi, he binged on candy and chips, and most often, spent the day ogling Y/n. He just couldn’t understand how she managed to look so perfect even after Derek had thrown her off the floating wooden dock for what must’ve been the thirtieth time that day.

When she finally came marching up the beach, soaking wet and out of breath, Spencer wondered if there was ever a situation where she could look bad. Covered in goosebumps - though the sun was sweltering hot - she tightly wrapped a towel around herself and plopped down in the sand between JJ and Rossi.

“Hey SP!” He chuckled at her nickname for him “Can you pass that bag of chips over here please?”

The rest of the day was spent soaking in the sun. It was full of jokes and swimming and Y/n’s head on Spencer's shoulder. He watched her and JJ pass a volleyball back and forth, he saw the team smile more in one afternoon than he had in the last month. They finally decided to pack it in the sun was nothing more than a sliver on the horizon.

They walked home to the dulcet sounds of crickets and Penelope's voice retelling all the best stories of the day. Spencer's mind moved much faster than his feet did, but all thoughts were halted when he felt a cold set of fingers grab onto his hand. That was one of his favourite things about her - the fact that she loved physical touch. Of course, at first he had a strong aversion to her love of hugs, hand holding, and cuddles, but as they grew into a close knit partnership he found himself longing for a hug from her after hard cases or for her hand to hold when he's walking to the bookstore.

When the team got back to their beach house it was quiet for a moment, as everyone was worn down from all their hours in the sun, their skin kissed with its warmth even though it had set more than an hour ago. Emily, ever a shit disturber, broke the serenity the walk home had created the second she broke out the bottles of wine from the fridge.

Y/n’s had slipped out of Spencers as she and the girls got to work pouring and drinking as many glasses as they could get out of each bottle.

“Movie time!” Penelope declared, plopping herself down on the couch between Derek and Rossi.

Everyone else settled in, and Penelope flicked through Netflix - occasionally announcing a title to the group to gauge a reaction and giving her own opinions on each. She finally landed on ‘Clueless’, a film Spencer had never heard of - despite Penelope and JJ insisting it was a classic.

Everyone was tired, you could tell that without being a profiler, but the group was so set on finishing their day together that everyone sat and watched the movie with heavy eyelids. Y/n was hit by sleep like a truck, and Spencer could tell. Her head fell on Spencer's shoulder and he let his own arms rest around her. It was fine, they were best friends. Best friends can cuddle on late nights - it doesn't mean anything to either of them anyway.

Except it did. It meant everything to Spencer. When he grabbed her hand it wasn’t even really a conscious decision, he just reached out and gripped onto her - he barely even noticed that he did it.

Y/n noticed.

Her eyes shot up to meet his own.

“What was that for?” Her tone was joking but there was a realness behind the whispered question.

“I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright? It’s a… Terrifying… Rom-com… ” Spencer defended.

They both looked up at the screen to see a scene of a blonde girl driving a jeep down the middle of the road and burst into laughter, gaining some looks and laughs from the other people in the room.

“I mean, you’re right. Unsafe driving practices sure are terrifying. Why do you think Hotch doesn’t let me drive anymore?”

“Because it's a hazard to everyone in the car and the berau called you ‘a hazard to the safety of yourself and your team’ when you drive?” Spencer quipped back, earning more laughter from the rest of the group.

Y/n just shook her head and laughed before dropping back down onto Spencer’s shoulder. However Spencer went the other direction, releasing his grasp on Y/n’s hand and setting it at his side instead.

“Why’d you let go of me?” She whispered into his ear.

Spencer allowed himself to let out some of what he had been feeling for as long as he had known her. He looked her dead in the eyes and and tried to communicate all of his feelings telepathically - but all he said was;

“I was scared...”

She looked at him and Spencer suddenly changed his mind about the whole telepathy thing, suddenly praying she can’t see the longing in his eyes.

“Come with me.”

So they got up, said a very rushed goodnight to their friends, and took off towards Y/n’s bedroom. When she opens the door Spencer is hit by a wall of the vanilla perfume she uses. If it was anyone else, he would have found it overwhelming, but because it was her it was more like something intoxicating.

She sat him down on the bed and took a spot beside him. Her eyes looked up and met his honey brown ones, and in hindsight Spencer swore he could pick that as the exact moment his heart rate picked up.

“So are you gonna tell me what’s been going on with you? Why you’ve been acting so strange?” She was still whispering even though the group was well out of earshot.

He didn’t respond, his head was fuzzy and he was just trying his best to put together a coherent thought.

“I’m your friend SP!” She laughed, trying again “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Sometimes I want to makeout with you, is that a friend thing to do?”

Spencer's words hung in the air and he so badly wished he could take them back. Why would he jeopardize the relationship he had with her? For what? Some inane fantasy he had where they were together? The silence made the air crushingly heavy, and Spencer got up to leave but was stopped by her gripping his arm.

She stood up and cupped her hand on his face, and it felt like they stood there like that for an hour. Spencer so desperately wanted to close the gap between them but the paralyzing fear that he was badly misreading her gesture stopped him.

But then she did. She pushed her lips against his and Spencer immediately melted into her. Soft fingertips on his cheeks turned into hands intertwined in his curls, his own hands finding their rightful spot on her hips.

They tangled together, the room filled with the sound of their desperate breaths. In an uncharacteristic burst of confidence Spencer ran a hand under her top and rested it on the small of her back. That was all the encouragement Y/n needed to clamber into his lap, never even breaking their kiss.

“Wait-” Spencer pulled back, breathless, “What does this mean? What are we doing?”

“I love you. It took me way too long to realize it but I just want to spend all my time with you, that's how I know. I love you.” Y/n whispered into his neck, still perched gently on top of him.

Spencer laughed a little at the absurdity of this moment. Girls like Y/n don’t love guys like Spencer - he almost wouldn’t believe it if it was any other girl. But it wasn’t any other girl, he trusted Y/n with his life - he knew she meant it.

“I love you too. I always have.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again.

Click.

Spencer jolted awake to the sound of Penelope’s cell phone camera going off. He moved to rub his eyes but found that his right arm was trapped under a shirtless Y/n.

Now he understood why Penelope was taking pictures.

“I got asked to check on you two - you know, see if you were awake.” Penelope was obviously trying very hard to hold back her excitement. “However it seems like I am interrupting something. So I will leave you lovebirds to it.”

She turned and sauntered out the door, but Spencer heard her laughing to herself in the hallway and he knew that in a few minutes the whole world would know exactly what Penelope thought about the compromising position she had just found them in.

The world could wait though, Spencer decided. Y/n had stayed peacefully asleep somehow, and he could feel the heat of her bare skin all over him.

So he pulled her closer, for that one more minute of bliss. One more minute of happiness.

One more minute of Y/n.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #Criminal Minds #fanfiction #bau #bau x reader

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maschotch · 2 years

Note

hello my friend, wanted to ask you to rank the team from least favorite to most favorite. and to tell you i hope you have a good day!

ahh ok ok ok like the whole team or just the core 7? fuck it: all of them

jj: explanation here but tldr? white pinterest mom vibes and im nota hashtag feminist girlboss

kate: same reasons as jj but i thought she was funny while she lasted and i liked the human trafficking episode with her niece that was crazy

rossi: racist wealthy italian. "i used to be in the mafia" and "im a war veteran" are his only other personality traits. need i say more? his best moment was when he gave hotch a gun to kill himself ajsdlghsjg

seaver: wattpad energy im sorry gamergirl

matt: breeding kink. my vietnamese and filipino friends have had too many interactions with kpop stannies and koreaboos for me to support wasian kids with white moms im sorry

reid: he's not low on purpose i just don't really like any of the story arcs that surround him specifically and hes the most annoying ab his daddy/mommy issues than anyone else on the team (why cant he be normal about it like morgan lol) and i know enough other people love him to make up for him not being my absolute favorite

alex: another low empathy legend. i find her fascinating and i love lveo lveolevoevlevoelvoevleovelvoe her relationship with reid!!! thats his mom right there!!! (no disrespect diana- a boy can have two moms<3)

stephen: he was such a funky little guy. had that weird dad energy that we've missed since gideon left. didn't deserve to go like that, the scene with monica brings me to tears everytime, i wish he could've been there longer and had a chance to develop his relationships with the rest of the team more

tara: i loooove her she's so cool and smart. i wish she had more storylines about her tho :/ but thats the racism ig lmao

gideon: literally just a fucked up guy he's so goofy and weird. and it's kinda like the opposite of spencer--he's higher on my list bc i know he's low on so many other people's and honestly the weirdo freak deserves better. i want someone to hannibal him so so bad

jordan: ok i thought she was fucking awesome??? i really wish she had stayed longer but i also loved how she always struggled with the job because of how personally she took everything. she looked at this nightmare of a life and said "no thanks :) not for me" and i respect that. but i love her relationships with the team especially emily morgan hotch <3

penelope: ????do i even need to say anything she's gorgeous and funny and literally the glue that holds the team together like this show would not be shit without her in it

morgan: another one i feel like goes without saying he's just such a good man so gentle and sweet and kind and loving and protective. he takes all the hurt he's experienced and uses that to fuel his love and devotion for others. and he's so so smart he just doesn't need to rub it in everyone's face all the time. he's just got that tmasc swag and his tits always steal the show<3

luke: baby boy baby he's my absolute golden boy fr. he's going higher than morgan/penelope which seems a little off but i'm grading on a curve: he didn't really get any storylines and he wasn't there for that long. latino king and im a sucker for sign language. his crush on garcia is sooooo cute and just the way he was always there for her emotionally even when she didnt want him to be.. .giving him infinite gold star stickers

elle: badass cuban?? the way she instantly settled into the bau family?? putting everyone in their place?? how her leaving left a permanent scar on everyone who cared about her?? the potential for vigilante elle?? haircut in the second season?? her smile??? teh gUn HoLsTerskasj j??? what's not to love?? i wish she lasted longer :((((

hotch: hes my boring white man i will hype this bitch up so much!!!!!!WILL defend southern boy hotch to the death. trans man autistic man trying-to-be-better-than-his-father man <3 hes sooooooo expressive and emotionally open especially when he goes -_- i love him so so much

emily: she's so so so smart and hot <3 i love my low empathy queen <3 normally i dont really like ~rich white girl with mysterious international connections~ trope but she manages it perfectly bc its not her whole personality you know? she's all about second chances and trying again and building a new life for herself out of the ashes of her old one and it doesn't always work but she keeps trying anyway and i love love love her

#thank youuuuuu #now i wanna know yours but im sure you've been asked before but i wanna knooowwwwww #asks

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mollyolikeme · 3 years

Text

Any Way The Wind Blows SPOILERS

Okay. Here are my ramblings in no particular order. Proceed if you care and/or dare. They a lot.

- I am emo shit. (I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. Brilliant.)

- Honestly the ‘break up’ is important even though it HURTS

- Holding the wand together. I CRY. Knocking foreheads. STAP.

-The first real snowbaz conversation during the make-up. Was just …......… FAN-TAST-TIC. Just real conversation and being patient and listening. Like they were both being so SOFT and UGH!

- Fuck yes the emotional intimacy!

- The first night in bed… like simons trauma and love and how they interact and how he can’t cross the lines right away but wants to and he’s just trying to process NEVER having to ever make a decision for himself and think about his own emotions in his life. Boy thought he was never gonna grow up. He thought he was gonna be dead! UGH. He just. Can’t handle the emotions and I FUCKING RELATE!

- SNOWBAZ MAKING OUT. GIMME MORE.

- Snowbaz hunting that first time and the conversation about simons sexuality (no label!) and further talking about how Simon thought (but really never thought!) about his relationship with Agatha

- The fact Simon wanted to JUMP ON baz and never thought past that

- Simon telling baz he would let him drink him. Yup. Good boy. Good bois.

- The mutual OBSESSION they have for each other!

- NANDOS! Yes sir.

- Penny and Shepard. Penny and Shepard. Penny and Shepard.

- Penelope deserves SO much. She is such an amazing friend/family to Simon AND to baz. Ugh their LOVE for each other.

- I think Shepard is v good for her

- YES bitch get him out of that engagement!

- Shep reaching slowly for penny and then penny just moving his hand to reach her cheek. I CAN NOT!

- KISS HIM! You go Penny! GET. IT.

- DOMESTIC SNOWBAZ DOMESTIC SNOWBAZ DOMESTIC SNOWBAZ

- IKEA trip. Just get out. That’s my dream for them.

- MORE KISSING. KEEP KISSING. I LIVE FOR IT.

- every damn time Snowbaz goes to lady Ruth Salisbury’s. I love it!

- I love lady Ruth! Like YES grandmama you are an open minded and smart powerful woman!

- SNOWBAZ MAKING OUT AT WATFORD! DO IT AGAIN!

- TEAM SOLVING PROBLEMS! YES TEAM.

- Smith smith Richards can accept my foot in his ass. I agree with Baz’s reactions. Like yes son.

- I get simons too honestly. For him as a character, as the guy that he is, ya know.

- Smith smith is a HILARIOUS and TERRIBLE name.

- LOL. What a scammer though eh?

- CULTS! Why is it ALWAYS cults these days!!!

- The whole bring the magic up and then burn it out thing smith does. Like fuck you. Why do you think your special because you made up a new spell?! Lots of people do that!

- The kind of first time?!?!?!?!?!!?!?! MY PRECIOUS BOYS. YOU DESERVE THAT AND MORE IM SO HAPPY!

- Fuckin GET. IT.

- The conversations the communication! KEEP IT UP MY GUYS!

- They just love each other so COMPLETELY. Despite everything and especially INCLUDING each other’s ‘flaws’ (I weep with joy for it)

- Honestly the Britishism’s in this book were prime!

- GETTIN THE TEAM BACK TOGETHER! Legit gives me ENERGY!

- GREAT Watford action. Simon being Simon like ‘nope imma lie to keep my people safe’

- His people then being pissed at him. lol yup

- Fuck you smith you deserve to be embarrassed by Simon!

- You look like a fool because you ARE a FOOL!

- GO PIPPA! Spell em like you see em! LIAR!

- KAY. The character growth for all of our mains …….. you guys I caaaaaant, stop it! (Don’t ever stop. Keep improving yourselves you guys are magical beauty’s)

-omg and AGATHA. girl you get your fucking story how you like it. this is about you now! your life is your life and you get to do what you want with it! Herd goats and just chill! uhuh uhuh!

- WERK HEADMISTRESS BUNCE. YOU ARE QUEEN AND YOU ARE SMARTER THAN EVERYONE!

- Simons true nature just being protective boy to people who are assholes to him. Yes sir you are too precious.

- V interesting that rainbow gave us an open ended thing with smith. Like at least somewhat. I’m assuming the coven will be like ‘yea you are a fraud and we will not have you around people anymore’ but also she leaves it with him still being delusional and like ‘I chosen one. Uhuh dat me’ … ya fuckin’ knob. You aren’t it Smith!

- ALSO WOAH WOAH WOAH! On the MF SLY Nico (good for Fiona. Marry your angry boy. You deserve it. Whatever it is.) being like ‘you can’t be immortal only drinking animals’………………

- IM SORRY!

- That is a BOMB!

- WHAT. WUT.

- OUR BOYS CAN LIVE AND DIE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!?!?!? You are fucking kidding me! THAT IS ALL I EVER WANT IN MY LYFE! (Healing healing healing emotional healing)

- Beautiful addition with the Excalibur sword to give us the Simon Salisbury reveal. Just Beautiful. Thank you thank you thank you Rainbow. I think that is exactly as we need it. Like obviously a lot for Simon to work through. And he and baz LITERALLY have that conversation (‘it’s too much.’ ‘It would be too much for anyone’) I REALLY appreciate that scenario as the reveal. Like Ruth already knows all the important things about Simon and now they can just be a supportive and CONSISTENT presence in his life. BAWLING IM BAWLING.

- And Simon has his sword!!!! Yes boy! You look good with it! Baz thinks you’re Hot! Because you ARE!

- THESE BOYS ARE HANDSOME! WE ALL WISH!

- Okay but also the moment it hits Simon (and baz) that he killed his father…… noooooooo. POOR THING. (Crying real tears. Crying real tears in the park reading. It’s true.)

- HE WAS NEVER YOUR FATHER SIMON! NOT REALLY!

- ROSEBUD BOY!

- Yes that is the pet name and henceforth will be the ONLY pet name! (Actually baz should keep saying love because I SWOON)

- my thoughts are Simon is gonna keep his wings.

- Like he likes them and so does baz and honestly everyone does. I actually love that every time anyone who is important to Simon thinks about him without his wings they get a bit sad about it.

- I think he’ll keep them.

- I like that they left things with the nownext like….. those Vegas vamps will probably fucking kill them, let’s not get involved. And then literally didn’t talk about it. HA. (Fair enough. Not their problem.)

- Our baby’s get normal lives now!

- Like normal for them

- But they get to GO ON! ITS AMAZING!

- AH IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM!

- HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY

- Penny and shep are getting his passport and moving to LONDON! They gone be cute cute cute together and it’s LOVELY

- SIMON AND BAZ LIVING TOGETHER FOREVER!

- MY BOYS (crying crying crying crying crying)

- I can just picture Simon doing Sunday night dinners at the Salisbury’s and coming home with HEAPS of take home leftovers for his week because grandmother Salisbury would NEVER let him leave without it

- He’s got an uncle! And probably/maybe cousins!? Sweet baby aaaaaahhhhhhh!

- Daphne at home again. THANK HEAVENS!

- I really enjoy that baz calls her mum. I think it’s so soft and important on so many levels because she did raise him.

- BAZ DRESSING SIMON! COME. ON.

- I CANT HANDLE ALL THIS BOYFRIEND BEHAVIOUR THAT I AM CONSUMING! IT. IS. PERFECT. I AM EATING IT UP.

- every time each of them comments on how sexy the other is.

- Simon thinking about Baz keeping his wand in a holster on his wrist. And it being dead sexy without his shirt on. FUCK. ME.

- Okay okay okay but MORE physical intimacy!!!!

- Like Clothes. Get rid of em. Don’t need em. Confident with where things are going. Check. Communicating consent and checking in. Fuck yes check. Sexy sexy sexy. Check. Kissing kissing kissing. Check. (I’m dying just about here) (get it my sons)

- What does Simon say? Just like ‘do you trust me’ ‘yes’ ‘can I touch you’ ‘yes’

- I. HAVE. DIED.

- (I’m dead)

- (Me being dead) AAAAAHHHH

- I LOVE the on going ‘is this what people do?’

- That makes me feel so many things.

- FUCK

- Simons like ‘we just get to keeping trying and working and being close and trying and working and making each other happy’

- I WEEP!

- These. Boys. Have. My. Heart.

- They have it they have it they have it they have it

- UGH

- okay better leave it there. I need to READ. THIS. AGAIN.

- LOVE ❤️

#awtwb spoilers #awtwb #snowbaz #rainbow rowell #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #shepard love #agatha wellbelove #i am no longer a functioning part of society...#i breath and think only rainbows words

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alrightsnaps · 2 years

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Sorry in advance for ranting a little here lol, but does anyone else feel like Chris Van Dusen pats himself on the back a little too much? It rubs me off the wrong way that he acts like his original characters are god sent when majority of us couldn’t care less about these random people’s storylines and he could spend more time developing the siblings (the show is called BRIDGERTON) for a readon. Also, unrelated, but did he forget school exists? Why isn’t Gregory at Eton? Why isn’t Colin at University considering he’s like 20 in the show? Again, I’m sorry, I’m just annoyed. As a Frannie stan, we’re being done dirty once again. Free our girl!!

Frannie stans, my beloved ❤️

I absolutely agree about original characters, I've complained about them in the past and I'll probably will many times in the future lmao. In a series of 8 episodes per season you have the opportunity to start developing the characters of the rest of the Bridgerton siblings prior to their own stories and their relationships with each other and the Bridgerton spouses. Same with the books’ secondary characters (Edwina and Mary, Posy, John etc). We only see glimpses of these relationships in the books and as far as I'm concerned it's one of the best things about the Bridgerton series. And instead of dedicating screen time to these characters you make up new ones each season, as if you don't have enough b-plots already?

The treatment of Francesca has got to be one of the most frustrating aspects of the show. They already wrote her off during the first season but I thought that was a one time thing and she'd be given her proper arc in the future like Benedict, Colin and Eloise. With Eloise's coming out this season, Francesca's isn't far behind. She heavily features in AOFAG and normally we should be getting Frannie and John's courtship in s03– which would require her to be an actual secondary character rather than making random guest appearances. If they keep up with the same nonsense in season 2, I'm not even sure we'll be getting that.

But I guess we have time for uninteresting b plots of original characters or having Philip show up three seasons before his actual story (at this point I won't be surprised if they manage to squeeze the Philoise story in over the next three seasons so the two will get together before they wrap the show in S04)?

If they planned to have Frannie as a random character that shows up once in a blue moon I don't know why they bothered including her in the first place. CVD clearly doesn't value her more than Gregory or Hyacinth. Meanwhile they've been promoting Eloise and Penelope like crazy since season 1.

Haha you're right about school (since the stories usually take place roughly from April to late June). With Gregory they could have him be at Eton during the first episodes and show up in the middle of the season, once the summer holidays begin (though I may be overestimating their attention to detail?), but with Colin they seem to have jumped straight to him travelling.

#bridgerton season 2 #asks #anon #francesca bridgerton

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austennerdita2533 · 3 years

Note

Hey!

I love Penelope Douglas for sure check her out! She writes some of the best smut tbh. I’m working my way through her devils night series right now-I’m on book 2. It’s good so far, definitely dark though. I’m interested to see how she goes about a redemption arc for the character Damon right now I don’t think he deserves one but I hear such good things about his book, Killswitch, but that’s book 3 so I will see how it goes. I definitely recommend Birthday Girl from her though I loved it and the couple from it are my favorite age gap could I’ve ever read. I find myself still re reading some of their best moments.

I am slightly embarrassed by Credence though so I hope it doesn’t bother you too much if you read it. Just so you know before going into it, it is about her and her step uncle/cousins. To be fair they are not blood related and very distance to the point she didn’t even know about them. But she does call him Uncle Jake during a sex scene, and the two others call her cousin during one too. There’s also a MMF scene with her two cousins. But on top of that there is a sexual assault scene (it does get stopped but the intent is there)-personally I wasn’t a fan of how she inwardly dealt with that scenario it felt like she was blaming herself for it instead of holding the other character accountable. Uncle Jake also does kiss her when she is still 17. So if any of that makes you uncomfortable don’t read it.

I’m so happy you liked the atlas six as much as I did. I can’t believe we have to wait until next year for the sequel to see what happens. It’s too long!! I also liked Callum the least, I still appreciated his character though and what he brings to the story I just wasn’t a fan of his, probably because of his problems with Libby/Parisa. Plus his powers terrify me-as someone who likes to have full control of my emotions the fact that someone could just change everything scares me. I also loved Nico he is my typical character that I love the whole I’m an asshole but soft and caring for the people I love gets me every time. Parisa is my queen though I’m obsessed with her. Like I’m literally in love with her, I wish she was real so she could be with me instead. Not that she would because I’m broke have 0 magic or power to give to her, but still. But I have a thing for power hungry women so I was gone the second I met her. But anyway if she was real she could destroy me or do anything she wanted to me and I would say thank you. Reina I also love and agree she could destroy the whole planet and one day probably will. I just love how she is there and wants all that knowledge but also doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else. Tristan also grew on me I’m still not completely sure how much I like or don’t like him yet he gets annoying sometimes because he is constantly in his mind about his alliances but I also love how loyal and caring he is. Libby is my girl!! I also relate to her as well since I was an outcast and battled inadequacy and all that (you and I must have some stuff in common!) Out of all the characters I relate to her the most and am rooting for her so hard-also because the author made her from Pittsburgh and I’m also from the area so I felt personally attached. But Olivie just did an interview and said Libby is getting a corruption arc and I am so excited about it!!

Okay ships- so I will be honest and I think it’s an unpopular opinion but oh well-I am a nicolibby stan. They have every single dynamic that I love in a ship and they could potentially be my favorite book couple of all time if that is the road they are being taken. Honestly I was obsessed with them from their first interaction so i have it bad for them. Obviously I know they were not romantic in this book but the potential (at least for me) was there especially in some of their quotes in the end. I fully believe they are soulmates though-even the author said they were born on the same day and feel like their other half is missing in an interview once-whether that will be platonic soulmates or romantic soulmates I have no idea and I could see either happening. My heart will break if it is platonic but it’s okay I can just live in my own little head about their potential.

But I get the idea and also like both libbytristan and NicoGideon and could see those happening instead of nicolibby too. I wouldn’t say I would be mad about it either-I do like both just to me the potential of nicolibby works more for me! My only thing about libbytristan though is I’m not sure how much of their tension/feelings are real (like did any of it exist before Parisa put the idea of the other person in their thoughts to lead to all the feelings.)

Weirdly enough since they probably my least favorite characters I also adore Tristan and Callum together. Their dynamic just works for me.

And I love Parisa and Dalton too and I’m so interested in how that relationship pans out because they have some stuff to figure out. But they work well together and honestly they are just so sexy together so I’m down for it. Although I do ship myself with Parisa more than her and Dalton but I’m biased.

Honestly though all the ships are wide open though so I’m curious to see what ends up being endgame. But omg yes the twist I was not expecting it-I’m so excited for the rest of this trilogy!!!

In other news though I finished up the ravenhood series. I know you said you either read it or it was on your tbr. But god I loved it. That series broke me and then put back all the pieces. If you haven’t read it and want to feel both heartbreak and happiness I highly recommend it!

Oh and don’t apologize for babbling as you can tell I also babble!!

-ACOTAR anon

Hiiiii sweets!

I've been sifting through a bunch of summaries of Penelope Doulgas' work on Goodreads and there's a bunch of stuff there I think I'd enjoy. I'm all about good smut. I didn't realize she had that many books. I'm excited! Thanks so much for the rec! I love dark romances/erotica every now and again so I'm also going to have to dive into the Devil's Night series at some point.

Oh, and idk if you know about it/read it but a couple of my friends told me about the Crossfire series by Sylvia Day a while back. It's BDSM, like Fifty Shades, but supposedly loads better. I don't know if you're into that but I figured I'd just throw it out there anyway. The smut is supposed to be steamy. I haven't read it yet but I do have the first four novels on my Kindle (where they've been sitting, unread, for about 2 years now)...so that's something haha.

And please don't be embarrassed about Credence. Seriously, the most wonderful thing about reading is you can go wherever tf you want in your imagination. No one can stop you. There are no rules. No restrictions. You can be whomever or whatever you want to be for a while, morality notwithstanding. One of my favorite things about books is that I can experience the most bonkers, outlandish out-of-this-world stuff that I'd never dream of wanting/liking in real life. It's liberating!

Thank you for the trigger warnings, though. I appreciate that. None of them sound off-putting enough to keep me from reading it. (Tbh, I want to read it more now.) I've read loads of books where characters marry or have sex with their cousins or siblings *waves at ASOIAF, the Secret History* so it doesn't bother me. I've also read most of Lolita and all of My Dark Vanessa by Kate Russell, which both romanticize pedophilia in disturbing degrees, so it takes a lot to put me off. If curiosity could kill then I'd be long dead by now. Hell, sometimes I will purposely read things I know will upset me to my core. What can I say? I'm a weirdo. 🙃

I DON'T WANT TO WAIT A YEAR FOR BOOK 2 OF THE ATLAS SERIES, EITHER. AHHHHH. How am I going to make it that long? It seems so far away!

Callum is the most terrifying of them all right now, imo. I think that's why I disliked him the most. Like you, it shook me to my core to imagine someone like him being able to toy with my emotions. I have a tendency to detach, to keep my emotions pressed close to my chest so that I can't be manipulated or hurt, and the idea that someone could have power over them, over me in that way is...no freaking thank you! I would put as much space between him and me as possible. Most of the Atlas crew had the right idea there. He does bring a lot to the story, though, like you said. I have a feeling he's going to be one of those characters I "love to hate" as the series progress. I might even grow to "hate to love" him, idk. He's just such a shady bastard! And so judgmental/mean to the girls.

I'm with you on Parisa, by the way. She's the kind of conniving, ambitious siren of a woman I can get behind. She has a similar vibe as Katherine Pierce on TVD. I mean, there's nothing in her arsenal she won't use and I love how she weaponizes her beauty. It's delicius. She's unpredictable. Definitely the type of character who inspires "scared and aroused" energy any time she walks into a room. Like, she could choke you and instead of crying you'd just ask her to do it again...harder lol.

Reina has the same kind of "no fucks given" attitude I have because I genuinely don't care what people think of me, either. I'm just here to do my thing. Be nerdy. Learn. Whatever. And Nico is my fave for the same reason as you--the asshole who only has soft edges for those who matter to him. *heart eyes*

Omg, Libby is going to have a corrupted arc? AHHHHH. That's going to be amazing, I cannot stinking wait! I was sort of hoping she'd go dark so now that it's confirmed I'm even more pumped. Also, I think you and I have more in common than either of us realized. I'm from the Pittsburgh area, too! How wild is that? Maybe there's something in the water here and that's why, like Libby, we've both felt inadequate and like outcasts at different points in our lives? Olivie might be onto something here...🤔

The thing that's been so cool for me about this series so far is that there are a bunch of potential pairings I could get behind. And I kind of like that it's not clear cut right now. Most series I know who I want together or who will be together like halfway through book 1. I like that I don't know have firm preferences and am still open. That's novel. Not to mention fun!

I don't blame you for shipping Nicolibby so hard, though. They're definitely one of my top contenders for a romantic pairing. They have that enemies-to-lovers element with witty banter that I always gravitate toward. And you're right about Libby/Tristan. I don't know how much of their connection was manufactured because Parisa intervened, either. That'll be fun to puzzle out moving forward. And Callum/Tristan should NOT be a ship I like but they have a palpable something that I can't put my finger on. I've got my eye on them, for sure.

The Ravenhood series is still on my tbr. I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed it so much, though! It's rare to read something that just ticks all your boxes. The next time I'm the mood to binge a series I'm gonna have to pick that one up. :-D

I've been trying to clear out my backlog of ARCs lately. (Not possible because I'm getting more on the regular - as in constantly haha - but I'm trying.) I just finished Wish You Were Here by Jodi Picoult, which has a Sliding Doors premise that is set during the pandemic where the main character has a parallel life experience (one, where she's in the Galapagos Islands on vacation when the shutdown hits so she's stuck there with strangers, alone, not speaking the language; the other, where she's in Manhattan with her surgeon boyfriend and recovering from COVID). It's intense but so, SO good! Picoult is such a good writer. Anything I've read by her has been moving, with rounded and real characters. I haven't been disappointed yet. I so recommend her.

Oh, and if you're into nonfiction/biographies at all I finished The Splendid and the Vile by Erik Larson not long ago, which is about Winston Churchill as well as those around him, and it was fantastic! Read more like fiction. I loved it. I am no longer surprised it was on all the BEST lists for 2020.

#anonymous #darling acotar anon #replies #the loveliest of lovely people #ashlee bree talks books

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lizzybeth1986 · 4 years

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I don't think you play TRR/TRH anymore but you should see what they did to Kiara in the newest chapter. It's so dumb and makes me so angry, especially considering the current climate of events. I've already seen people on Reddit be like "but we helped her overcome her trauma" (we didn't lol) and someone called her the c-word, very classy. Honestly PB's been low key racist in the past but all the stuff right now makes it high key...

(Apologies for the long post and not being able to place this under a cut)

I'm pretty glad I got these anons because truth be told I wasn't sure how many people - besides the few that I already knew were constantly speaking about Kiara's treatment in the books - would care enough to ask any questions about this. Most of the posts I saw expressed a disturbing eagerness to throw her under the bus, without exploring nuance or asking questions, and at this point I'm not very surprised.

I've always maintained that the treatment for Kiara is what happens when both the writers and the fandom are heartless, and these past few weeks have only been proof of that.

There are questions you could raise about this finale re: Kiara - questions almost no one seems to bother asking. I have three:

1. In this Coventus Nobilis...how is it that I see four Heads of House, and only one heir?

2. If Kiara - who is not head of house - is supposed to represent Castelserraillian instead of her father Hakim (who presides over that estate), why do I not see Madeleine? Why do I not see Penelope?

3. Why are we suddenly seeing Adeleide popping up out of practically nowhere to rep Krona/Fydelia, and Landon conveniently rep-ping Portavira?

Some of the answers to these questions lie in the questions themselves. Why else would Madeleine and Penelope not be present in this meeting - if it weren't to purposely distance them from this awful moment? After all, both of them have inbuilt subplots ready for the next book that would require interactions with the core group. How else do you think the writers could ensure we kept coddling them and pandering to them in Book 3, except by distancing them from this "betrayal"?

Why else would the narrative choose to pit Kiara - the lone woman of colour we'd been shitting on for most of this series - against Olivia - the white woman who has been given innumerable individual PoV scenes and her own mini-book (and whose reputation we had to help rebuild in said mini book whether we cared about her stupid duchy or not).

Why else would they force Kiara to alert us mere minutes before the meeting begin, if not to distract us with crumbs ("See? At least we wrote her as warning you. Of course we don't hate her!").

Why else would you have Olivia and Kiara pitted against each other like this - if not to show these two women side by side, on opposing ends - and compel us to believe that the white woman we spent 4.5 books propping up and pampering, is the most loyal one. When in fact we have done absolutely nothing to deserve any fucking loyalty from Kiara or her family to begin with! (Ezekiel and his white bride notwithstanding).

What we finally got as a result, was a narrative that (as @queen-of-effing-everything summed it up when I discussed this with her) in one full sweep "glorifies Olivia, shields Madeleine and Penelope and sets up Kiara". Very few of us even noticed. And even if we did notice, is there any guarantee that we would care??

Remember how I mentioned in my last ask that I wished we expanded the same energy that we did with Aurora, to speak up against the ill-treatment of other black characters? Kiara was undoubtedly one of those.

After this, we as a fandom will speak very easily now of her "betrayal". We will call her the b-word and the c-word. We will boast of how we will "take her down" along with Adeleide and Landon and Bartie Sr. We'll boast about how we "never liked her" to begin with, as if doing so required some...idk exemplary foresight. We will make memes about how Olivia was "the only bitch we ever respected". We will make huge, sweeping claims about how Kiara was our "friend" and how (as you've mentioned, anon) we "helped her overcome her trauma" (!!!!) and claim by that token that we were entitled to good treatment from her. I'm pretty sure when TRH3 finally comes out, her every word and action will be screenshot, put up on blogs, mocked and torn down just so we can write essays on how awful she is.

Yet I saw very little of this energy in Book 3, where the MC could first emotionally manipulate her into supporting the Unity Tour, and where we actively suspected her at a time when she was traumatized. At most there was some lukewarm acknowledgement of how she "deserves better", all while people still continued to write fanfic that positioned her as creepy and obsessed and villainous. Almost no one had a problem with Savannah not acknowledging Kiara's earlier support of her, and in fact I'd seen posts that clubbed her with the other ladies of the court who likely "treated Savannah badly". Her father Hakim was made to join the tour alongside her by default, without the expectations that Landon/Emmeline and Godfrey/Adeleide were allowed to have, and the fandom was mysteriously silent about Hakim being made to "bow to his knees" in a way the others did not have to. Very few people even bothered to notice or talk about how often Penelope was allowed to hold the MC's baby, or how Kiara was never really allowed to hold her even once. Which "friend" treats someone like this??

When I finally published this essay on the treatment meted out to Kiara especially in Book 3, what I got was a lot of neat, but ultimately hollow, little platitudes about how Kiara "deserved better" (How and in what way? Who knows, who cares). Out of those many many people who reblogged and responded, only a handful held the MC and Drake in particular (and Maxwell, who thought it appropriate to joke about "one suspect down") accountable for choosing to suspect and interrogate just her, and for showing ZERO remorse in forcing her to reopen those wounds. How is it that we can judge Kiara for this latest "betrayal", yet pretend that the MC and Drake had nothing to do with the pain THEY caused to her? How is it that this fandom was so fired up over her comments, yet would have such a weak, muted, carefully-generalized response to the screenshots where Drake was openly suspecting her and optionally minimizing her trauma?

Following that, why should we be entitled to good treatment from Kiara when we never really gave her even half as much?? Why is it so easy to divorce characters from their words and actions in Drake/MC/Maxwell's case, but so hard for a character like Kiara? (One may claim this is because Drake and Maxwell are potential co-protagonists, but the aforementioned essay already proves that you as a main character can get punished for not treating a mere side character with kindness).

Another thing that fascinates and repulses me even further is how the fandom has created myths around this one character, and how PB has constantly leaned into these "characteristics" even though the text itself tells an altogether different story:

1. Kiara is a snob. This is especially hilarious considering that she is established in Book 2 as being the only person who befriended Savannah before her departure and cared about what happened to her when she left. Never once in the books has she looked down on us for class-related issues, or outright mocked people for not knowing the languages she knew. In fact, she was the first person to acknowledge our skills if we showed any before Lythikos in Book 1. On the other hand, Penelope can be uppity and look down on us in Book 1 (there is even a dialogue option in Chapter 10 that leads to her calling us a "commoner wench") if we don't do well, and yet she's a cinnamon roll. Olivia can engage in snobbish , entitled behaviour without the fandom having a problem just because she's their favourite. Madeleine can look down on us and pretend for 3/4ths of the social season that we're not worth her time yet somehow Kiara is the snob. Okay. Okay. 😐

2. Kiara is "obsessed with" Drake and constantly comes on to him. This is said by the same group of people who saw Olivia fucking Nevrakis plant a WHOLE FUCKING SMACKER on Liam's mouth, and said..nothing. Kiara on the other hand, has admired Drake's abs once, mentioned she'd always liked Drake once, spoken normally to him about his sister once, flirted with him once (Paris tea party), and ordered a wine from him when he was bartending. In the next book she either looks at him wistfully or admires his suit. Yet somehow she's the creepy, annoying, stalkerish. Okay. Ooookay. 😑

(This one was particularly damaging, because post the TRR3 hiatus, all efforts from PB were focused on reversing Kiara's position as an alternative LI. This included "confirming" on livestream that her affections were one-sided, at a time when Olivia was finally allowed to have some romantic moments with a single Liam, pushing forward a buildup scene to Drake's eventual secret wedding that had him acting extremely rude and confrontational to Kiara mere minutes after suspecting her (while she was expressing joy at his upcoming wedding in his playthrough!!!), and involving a subplot where he openly and by default suspected her. Sure, he spends a minute to be nice to her and chat about trauma if the MC chooses. But that's like a drop of sewage water floating in an ocean of shit).

3. Kiara Pretended to Be Our Friend And Then Dropped Us: This is false. Kiara only ever promised to put in a good word for us to the rest of the court, no more, no less. And she fulfilled that promise. Otherwise she never pretended to be friends with us nor made friendly overtures either way. In fact if you're going to accuse anyone of duplicity, you have Penelope and Madeleine. Yet somehow Kiara is the dishonest one. Okay. Okay. 🙃

4. Kiara Was Insensitive To Penelope and Didn't Understand Her. I'm not sure how Kiara is supposed to magically understand something that her friend isn't telling her. Plus this argument deliberately leaves out the fact that she stood up for Penelope when people chose to be mean to her, and even explained to the MC that she employs "tough love" because she can't always be around to protect Penelope. It also leaves out how one-sided this friendship is and how Kiara is made to do most of the heavy work in this friendship. Meanwhile, at Kiara's most difficult time period, in Castelserraillian, Penelope says absolutely nothing as the MC forces Kiara to join the Unity Tour, while making bedroom eyes at Kiara's brother. In fact the only reason Kiara's brother even exists is to give Penelope a love interest. The Kiara-Penelope friendship practically revolves around Penelope. I have never really seen Penelope look out for Kiara or attempt to actually support her in any way, and Kiara was the one who got the knife wounds. Yet somehow I'm supposed to believe that Penelope's the better friend of the two. Suuuuure. 😡

And this steaming pile of crap doesn't just make its way into shitposts and short opinion posts. It creeps into fanfic and fandom opinions. It finds its way in the tags and in other social media. It eventually even finds its way into the books, even though nothing in the earlier narrative ever really supported these extremely stale takes.

Because PB didn't care for Kiara the way they cared for their white characters, they had no problem framing her narrative the way this fandom so desparately wanted it. Book 3 has the MC claim behind her back that Kiara is stuck-up and acts like knowing ten languages makes her better than everybody else, even though this is not backed up by the text, and in fact you will never see any acknowledgement of how Madeleine forced Kiara to make herself sound "exotic" in Book 2, or of how Madeleine and the MC (optionally) could downplay or question her skills unless they wanted to use her. Also, Penelope is never allowed to be talked about like that no matter what she's done. PB even had a scene (in the Hana playthrough) where they aggressively retconned the events of Madeleine's bachelorette party, where Kiara supposedly shouted at Penelope until the latter cried, and Madeleine was the one "having fun". Kiara was literally being thrown under the bus to make Madeleine look better. Madeleine. Imagine that. Madeleine.

Given how desparate the fandom was to nitpick and overdramatize everything Kiara said and did, is it any wonder that the team got away with the writing they gave her in Book 3? Considering that all the false arguments I stated above have made a resurgence in the past few weeks or days...is it any wonder that the only "support" this fandom is capable of re: Kiara, is lukewarm platitudes, cold takes and rank hypocrisy??

Yes, we can hold PB solely/largely accountable for the treatment meted out to Kiara now. They made these choices over and over, and continue to do so, while tossing us occasional crumbs of faux-sweet behaviour from the MC. And they did this in insidious ways, which were so hard to catch that even a Kiara stan like me had to observe multiple playthroughs just to unravel even half of what they'd done.

But let's not pretend a huge chunk of the fandom was just as responsible for this - with their unfounded opinions, their disgusting bias, their favouritism of white characters, their refusal to observe anything besides their favourites, and their godawful fanfiction where Kiara is a creep or evil or killing the virtuous main character. Out of the huge body of fanwork that I've seen for TRR that features Kiara - at least 90% of it features her stalking Drake, or harming the MC (particularly the Drake MC), or in cahoots with the villains, or generally being referred to as a creep (why Olivia, who kissed Liam without his consent in Book 1 and was entitled enough to be angry about him not returning her feelings in TRH1, never got this sort of writing - I fail to understand). There is a tremendous gap between the vitriol dumped on her when she does something the MC doesn't like, and the milquetoast response when harm is done to her. There have been times when I've had to comb through pages and pages of hate just to read even one positive post on Kiara in her own goddamn tag.

When the next book arrives, I know you folks will continue to gas up the white women in this book every chance you get, and mask your racist vitriol for characters like Kiara (and Hana, let's not forget the way y'all treat Hana) behind the same self-righteous judgements and the same tired, stale takes. I know that PB - despite what I will still believe is their hollow promises today - will write every single one of those stale takes into existence. All because it will be "justified", because Kiara is a "bad person" or "untrustworthy" or "fake". Whatever. Y'all can stick to Olivia The Black Hole and babysit Madeleine and Penelope, I guess. Kiara always deserved better than these writers and most of this fandom anyway.

#long post #kiara theron #the royal romance #the royal heir #trr kiara #lady kiara #i'm sorry kiki we didn't deserve you #i chose not to play trh2 and that's because this is EXACTLY what i felt would happen after they tossed us those crumbs in the book 1 finale

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enderspawn · 3 years

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🎼 (I can’t find the correct emoji lol) exile arc tommy?

Oh boy! (opens up breakdown playlist) /hj

Montreal – Penelope Scott

Sleep with a Baseball Bat – Cosmic Johnny

Brother – Gerard Way

breakdown under cut, tw for suicidal ideation on the first song esp

1. Montreal – heehee hoohoo suicidal/depression thoughts baby!!

I mean in short this is tommy saying he wont Survive exile. The intro of the song lists when the singer would be home from college/school and that “another 90 day summers gonna take [their] fucking life” which is rlly just. Tommy not gonna live THAT long in exile.

“And I would rather die And let me make it clear It's nobody's fault But I think we all know That I won't make it to Montreal”

So the thing here is that its “nobody’s fault” bc on one hand it is that he doesn’t blame tubbo but worse he doesn’t blame DREAM. Its just meant to happen, its not bc of anybody, yknow?

“And I would rather die I'll jump before I'll fall And I'm having lots of fun But I won't make it Montreal”

Mans tried to jump to his death before he “fell” whether bc of dream or an accident, hes makin the active CHOICE to end it rather than just waiting. Even w the fun he’s having w dream, he’s miserable and he knows he wont make it to see lmanberg again

“You like to talk about the future As if it's real And when you tell me that you love me I can almost feel it”

Dream keeps promising him stuff for the future. Maybe he can visit to see the tree, maybe he can get another visit, maybe he wont be alone. But tommy doesn’t care, its all fake to him (which like, it is so good for him but fjkdlsjf)

“It's not that it's a bad plan No, the plan fucking slapped I was so excited you don't know how bad I wanted all of it The coffee shop, the weather, the apartment But I don't want anything anymore I don't know, I guess I just got bored”

Okay so. Tommy kept trying to get shit together to leave, right? He wanted to go back so bad and have this domestic life w his friends but in the end he just got so downtrodden that after his shit got blown up he was so ready to just GIVE UP.

“And I don't wanna die I don't wanna get left behind But it's better half than none I hope to god you have some fun”

He doesn’t want to be in this situation, he still CARES abt the lmanberg crew but in the end hes been told that they’re happy WIHTOUT him. He’s not angry at them, not anymore, he just wants them to be happy bc he isn’t.

2. Sleep with a Baseball Bat – tommy and dream relationship baby!!

“And every time you wake up Thinking this could be the day Well something, something just”

Every day in exile he had no real plans. He just had to exist out there alone and hope someone else came. This IS the day he can do…. Something. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a goal.

“And when your love is an anxiety attack Don’t settle for that, don’t settle for that And when you wake and find the claw marks in your back Sleep with a baseball bat, sleep with a baseball bat”

Hes been manipulated into thinkin dream is his friend, that dream “loves” him but it makes him miserable! Hes paranoid and stressed and falling apart!! Boy!!! Fjdsklfj

“Siena says you’re getting used But something’s broken in your head And you can’t run away when you need to”

The other ppl who visited him, like ranboo, KNEW something was happening and that he was in a bad place but tommy had been manipulated by dream so much that he couldn’t process it. No, dream couldn’t be bad, dream was his friend, right? He couldn’t leave exile, dream would be upset. Its all what DREAM wants, not tommy.

“Hey, space cadet Are you still floating round the rock That you spent so much of your life trying to get away from? And does it at least look different from up there?”

OKAY SO ONE. SPACE CADET? THAT’S CLARA BABY!! TWO: he spent ALL his time on this server fucking fighting dream, trying to “get away from” him. But now hes stuck “floating around” with him as his “friend”. The last line feels sarcastic and bitter but like. FUCK it hits, yknow??

“It might take a couple tries till you believe it But love is real, you’ll figure it out, you’ll live to see it But you still have to take a couple of falls And you can’t make an omelet without breaking your balls So batter up Is your bed made? Is your helmet on?”

HAPPY ENDING POG!! HE STARTS HEALING!!!! HE STARTS REALIZING DREAM WASN’T HIS FRIEND!!! He still “falls” and relapses into wanting dream w him but hes so much better!!! Also,,,,, “is your helmet on” w the turtle shell helmet (eyes emoji)

3. Brother – IF TECHNO AND TOMMY NOT BROTHERS WHY THIS SON—(gunshot rings out)

Okay so on a serious note this song is abt addiction and while I don’t want to take away from that Serious Topic, it Does relate but w tommy dealing w his ptsd of dream

“And brother, if you have the chance to pick me up And can I sleep on your couch To the pound of the ache and pain? Oh, in my head 'Cause I'm awake all night long To the drums of the city rain”

Hhrhnrng staying at technos place to hide from dream and get better a lil JFKDLSJK. Also “the drums of the city rain” is referenced a LOT in this song but like. It keeps him up so,,,,,, dream JFKDLSJF. Mans barely ever slept in exile so it WORKS okay jfkdlsjf

“The lights we chase The nights we steal The things that we take to make us feel this (To the drums of the city rain)”

This is him and techno livin together!! Like in the first chorus you could see lights we chase being tommy finding techno’s place, then later it’s the lights of lmanberg as they sneak in. the nights they steal is both just time spent together and also straight up the times they stole shit JFKDSLJ. “the things that we take to make us feel” is the gapples tommy always eats so that he can feel safe (also, bc in the og song this is PROBABLY abt drugs and potions are drugs in universe so. Arguably getting a potion effect from the apple means it is Also Drugs? Fjdkslfj)

“I can't go back I don't think I will I won't sleep tonight as long as I still Hear the drums of the city rain”

Go back to logstedshire or lmanberg you ask?? The answer is yes. Both. He feels like he doesn’t belong in lmanberg and logstedshire is too traumatizing for him to return at this point. As long as he “hears the drums of the city rain”, or is thinking of dream, he Cant Sleep:tm:

“Does anyone have the guts to shut me up? 'Cause I believe that every night There's a chance we can walk away So hold on tight Because I won't wait too long In the drums of the beating rain”

Okay so hear me out but. This is just tommy and dream. “I believe that every night theres a chance we can walk away” is tommy hoping desperately for dream to let him go home, to walk away from logstedshire. He never will be permitted, not really, but theres a chance that tommy clings to. He wont “wait too long” while out in exile and stuck w dream bc hes desperate and miserable (also fun fact these analysis is basically me just pmv’ing shit in my head and rambling vaguely abt it but like. Listen,,,, flashback verse jfkdsljf) ALSO. The line “does anyone have the guts to shut me up” in relation to exile!tommy is just VERY important to me. Mans was so quiet and afraid to speak up when in exile.

“'Cause the nights don't last And we leave alone Will you drive me back? Can you take me home? (To the drums of the city rain)”

Following up that last paragraph, this is still in flashback. The days end and dream leaves again, making tommy alone. He asks if he can go back, if he can see home and lmanberg and everyone. But echoing the “to the drums of the city rain” after home CAN imply that “home” has become logstedshire WITH DREAM even tho it keeps him up and aaAAAAAHHHH

I swear this ends up okay and techno + tommy focused fjkdsljf

“Faces I don't know I am tired in the glow”

He feels isolated from everyone during his exile and lashes out at those who visit, to the point he feels like they’re all more or less strangers and “faces he doesn’t know”. Being tired in the glow is, imo, him over the lava.

“Of the freezing club Keep me breathing Don't make the lights come back Can you take me home? We all need this When we leave alone”

Hhhngg okay so tommy breakdown time! Hes in techno’s house (the freezing club) and is just pleading for techno to help. Don’t let “the lights come back” (lava again maybe? He doesn’t want to be Like This?) and just wants to feel like hes at home because hes just left exile and hes Messed Up Over It

“Remember when you and I would make things up? So many nights, just take me down To the place we can hear them play I miss that sound 'Cause now we don't sing so loud To the drums of the city rain”

OKAY SO THEY MAY NOT BE CANON FAMILY BUT WILBUR REMEMBERS SPARRING W TECHNO AS A KID AND PHIL IS HIS CLOSE FRIEND SO THEY STILL KNEW EACH OTHER AS KIDS SO SHUSH FJSDKL. Tommy just wants things to go back to how they were, before everything. When things were easy and they were kids just having fun. He misses it. Before exile, before lmanberg, before dream. But it doesn’t matter, because they’re stuck in this now. With his brother dead and his closest friend being the man who killed his best friend and helped blow up his country. Again, the drums of the city rain is dream. Because of his influence, its all different.

Hhhngngngn this is too long so I wont go into the last outro bc you can interpret it a LOT of ways, esp depending on how you want to Pace this song w the exile arc. But like. The analysis is THERE if you really wanna push it/animatic it babeyyy

#dream smp #mcyt #tommyinnit #exile arc #HHHHNG IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE JFKLDSJ #I PROMISED MYSELF ID FINISH THIS ASK GAME UP AND WOULDNT GO IN DEPTH AS MUCH THEN DID EXACTLY THAT W THREE SONGS JFKDSL #tommy #answered #song ask game #listen the last song is a LIL bit of a stretch but its my playlist i get to put in the not depressing song fjdkls #Anonymous

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capaldifiction · 4 years

Text

Behind The Lens - Lewis Capaldi x Reader

Well the length of this one got a bit out of hand because once I got started on it, it suddenly got really long and I just decided to go with it lol

Paring: Lewis Capaldi x Photographer Reader

Word Count: 5,039

Description: Based on the request: “Reader is Lewis photographer and after a while Lewis wants to know her more because they are so often together.” Hope you like it 💙

Requested by: @penelope-potter

Warnings: Some swearing.

Italics are inner thoughts. The breaks are jumps in time.

Lewis exhales loudly and shakes his head before pulling open the door to the set he’d be on today. Having someone style him, fuss over his hair, and throw makeup on his face was still a weird reality, and he wasn’t looking forward to this first big shoot.

He’d had some headshots and quick promo pictures taken before, but none of them required a full set, staff, and all this fuss. He knew this was a big opportunity, for the magazine to even want to put him in their up and coming artists, and that made it all the more agonizing. The interview itself had gone well he thought, though he’d held himself back a lot more than he normally would have, but well enough. But he wasn’t looking forward to the shoot itself.

“First time?” a voice asks, pulling him out of his anxious thoughts. Glancing over he sees a girl with a camera around her neck, and a similar apprehensive look as he’s sure he has on his own face.

“I- yeah, basically,” he admits with a nervous laugh. “I’ve not done a full shoot, with all this… fuss.”

“I get it,” she nods in agreement. “I’ve been a photographer awhile, but this is my first big contract shoot.”

“So neither of us know what we’re doing, this is going to go great,” he says with a laugh.

“Hey I know how to work my equipment,”she insists. “I’m just not used to it being for this big of a company or there being a whole team involved.”

“Well at least that means you have very low expectations for me,” he concludes with a shrug.

“We’ll learn together,” she says confidently, reaching out to gently pat his arm. “I’m going to finish getting the equipment ready if you want to go get comfortable on the set.”

He nods, but shouts out as she starts to walk away, “Hey! What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she answers with a smile.

“I’m Lewis,” he responds immediately.

“I know,” she says with a wink before walking away.

His nerves now a little more relaxed, he heads over to the set where assistants immediately have him sit down, and situate his pose and smooth out his shirt. As they continue to fuss over him, he quietly watches his photographer talk with a group of people and set up all the equipment.

Something about her confidence when he knows she’s in a similar boat to him, helps calm his nerves.

“Ready to be a model Lewis?” She asks as she pops the lens cap off and adjusts the camera.

“Born ready,” he jokes as the camera flashes twice.

“Look over to the right… perfect,” Y/N calls out, the constant sound of clicks coming from the camera as Lewis adjusts his pose.

Stepping back from the camera briefly, Y/N looks over analyzing him carefully. “Could someone- actually I got it,” she says before just heading over to him.

Lewis turns to look at her as she reaches him and kneels down, “Problem?”

“Just fixing a few things, if it’s cool if I touch you?” she asks.

“As if anyone else asked,” he jokes but nods at her.

“Well I'm the photographer, making you look extra pretty isn’t my job description,” she chuckles and reaches out to fix the chain around his neck.

“I could see the clasp in the shots,” she explains as he looks at her questioningly. “Face back the way you were please.”

He listens and she adjusts where the necklace is sitting on his chest, then smooths down a stray hair before leaning back to assess him with an approving nod.

“Do I look acceptable now?” he teases, still staring in the direction she’d instructed him to.

“Absolutely perfect, like the star you were born to be,” she gives his knee a pat before climbing back to her feet and heading back over to the camera.

“And that’s a wrap everyone,” the set manager announces as people start swooping in to take care of the equipment. “Lewis you can keep the clothes, and your manager is waiting for you back by the dressing room you were in earlier. John will walk you back,” he says motioning toward an intern holding a clipboard to the side.

Lewis nods and falls into step with the intern, sending one last look over his shoulder at Y/N.

“Did you leave something on set?” John asks, noticing his glance back.

“I- no I’m good,” he says quickly. “Actually, do you know Y/N’s last name?”

“The photographer? No I don’t, this is her first time working with us,” he answers. “Do you need her information?”

“No, I was just thinking, uh, I should add her on Instagram for the pictures,” he explains half-heartedly.

“Oh!” John nods understandingly as they reach the dressing room. “I’m not sure what it is, but I can ask that she tags you in any she may post. Though the best will be on our site and all social media platforms. What is your Instagram handle so I can provide her with it?”

“Just @LewisCapaldi,” he says, watching the man quickly jot it down on the paper on his clipboard. “I’ll go and inform her, have a good evening Lewis,” he assures before walking back the way they came.

“You like that photographer huh?” his agent asks, leaning against the door frame of the dressing room.

“I mean, well I think we worked well together, she was cool,” he explains with a shrug, his manager nodding back.

“Seemed like a good match, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lewis finds himself once again sitting in the makeup chair as people fuss over his hair and face. Another magazine shoot, he’s done enough now that they’ve become more automatic. The more his fame grew, the more he found himself in front of a camera. And oddly enough the more he found himself in front of Y/N’s camera.

She seemed to pop up as the photographer of so many of his shoots, that he was disappointed when he walked onto set and it wasn’t her. He still didn’t like his picture being taken that much, but she always put him at ease, and her pictures always turned out great.

After their first time working together, she had tagged him in the photos she put up as he’d asked.

He’d spent some time scrolling through her photos, looking for more about her. There wasn’t much beyond her work, her dog, and some friends. No sign of a partner or mentions of other hobbies. And as time passed he watched her updates turn from random models and people just starting out, to bigger and bigger names. From just great shots of the artists and actors, to selfies she’d taken with all the stars she was working with.

Every time they worked together she posted the new pictures, tagging him to it with a nice caption about loving his music and working with him. But a part of him wished she’d ask to take a picture with him. He didn’t know why it irked him, or why he felt too awkward to ask. But with each new selfie with a star posted to her page, the more he wanted a picture with her.

“Guess who,” Y/N says poking her head into the open door of his dressing room pulling him from his thoughts.

“Ah fuck, you again?” he jokes. “How many places do you work for anyway, you’re everywhere.”

“Contract work Lewis,” she says with a grin, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. “Whoever contracts me to do the shoot.”

“And you just always end up at the same places I do huh?” he asks questioningly.

“Actually, from what I’ve heard higher ups like the previous photos I’ve taken of you, and your management keeps choosing me when they’re offered a list to choose from. So it’s less me following you around, and more you pulling me back in.”

“You could turn it down,” he says as the hair stylist turns his head.

“Hey the more of these I do, and the more famous you get, the more money I make,” she laughs. “Plus I’m sure you’d miss me if you didn’t get to see me show up every so often and tell you what to do.”

“Fair play,” he agrees as he tries to not make a face at the hairstyle he was just given.

Y/N notices the look and smirks, “I’ll let you finish up in here and get to the set. See you soon.”

“Chin up a bit,” Y/N calls out as Lewis adjusts, clicks of the camera sound off several times, followed by silence. She stares through the lens for a moment before looking up and staring at him contemplating.

“This isn’t working, I’m making an executive decision on it,” she says walking over to him and running her hands through his hair to free it up. “Sorry hairstylist,” she says softly as he chuckles.

“You just felt the need to play with my hair right?” he jokes. “Always have to be touching me.”

“As soft as it is,” she replies leaning back to see her work. “Your hair just doesn’t look right the way they had it. It just looked weirdly flat. The way you usually have it looks better for you.”

“So looking like I didn’t bother with it?”

“Exactly, you rock the ‘I woke up and ran my hand through my hair’ look,” she agrees. “I think that should work.”

“You know most photographers let the stylists fix the hair, makeup, and clothes,” he adds. “I’ve worked with a bunch of them now and you’re the only one doing this.”

“Easier for me to fix it myself than try to explain it to someone, then have them do it,” she explains.

“Good point, telling them to make my hair messy isn’t exactly specific.”

Backing up she looks him over once more, “Perfect. Can we get some shots with you against the wall now?”

“I don’t know can we?” he responds as he gets up and goes to the wall.

“You give me sass, yet do exactly what I say,” she grins. “Exactly why I like working with you. Even though you got rid of the long beautiful hair.”

“You liked my long hair huh?” he asks as she walks back over to the camera.

She holds a hand up and he poses as the camera clicks several times. “Some people pull it off well, you’re one of those people. Look up please.”

Click.

“Look down.”

Click.

“Toward the camera, peace sign.”

Click.

The rest of the shoot goes as planned, and Lewis finally leaves the set as Y/N calls an end to the session.

Walking over to her, he leans against the column in the room and watches as she flicks through the photos on her camera, “What are you doing?”

“Having a quick look at some of the shots we got,” she answers without looking up. “Need something?”

“Well,” he clears his throat and attempts to look casual. “I was wondering if you’d want to get some lunch together?”

Y/N looks up quickly with a surprised expression but gives him a gentle smile, “Yeah that sounds great. Right now?”

“Yeah I was thinking right after we wrap all this up?” he asks.

“Y/N!” a well-dressed woman from across the room yells. Approaching them quickly with her heels clicking the floor. “What’s our time frame on getting these photos?”

“Well I was going to take a lunch then-” she begins before being cut off by the woman.

“No time, we can have lunch brought to you, we need them by 1:30 latest, we need you on there pulling and editing them now.”

“I- alright,” she nods dejectedly. “I’ll grab my laptop and be in the office.”

“Perfect, thank you,” she says before turning to Lewis. “You did great! We’re so happy to have you here, I already read the interview and it’s fantastic. We’ll be putting the piece into print tomorrow.”

“Thanks, and thanks for inviting me,” he replies with a forced smile. Disappointment obvious in his voice.

“Y/N I’ll send my assistant to the office to get your order for food, he’ll take care of that for you. Send the files directly to our art department when you’ve finished,” she orders and turns to walk away.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says as she looks back at Lewis. “Maybe next time?”

“And now you’ll never be my photographer again so you never have to go to lunch with me, I see this devious plan,” he replies trying to cheer her up.

“Damn, figured out already,” she snaps. “See you around Lewis.”

And with that she grabs her laptop and camera card and disappears once again.

“What kind of shoot is this?” Lewis asks as he’s walking with his manager.

“Just some new headshots and pictures we can throw on some merch or send in as your official pictures. No magazine, interview, radio station, or YouTube channel,” he says leading them through the rental space.

“Ah, so these are the ones I’m going to be seeing every day for the next year,” he says unhappily.

“Exactly, so make ‘em good,” he says before opening the door to the studio portion of the building.

A smile immediately takes over Lewis’ face as a familiar face looks up from the camera she’d been tinkering with, a similar smile across her own.

“Well lookie who it is,” he calls out as they get closer to her.

“Told you I’d see you again, you don’t get rid of me that easily,” she teases and hugs him with her free arm.

“And with no magazine publisher to blame for you being here,” he adds.

“Ask him, he hired me,” she laughs nodding at his manager who’s shaking his head.

“I’ll leave you two to it, you have the list of what we need Y/N?”

“Yep, got it under control,” she says with a thumbs up as he walks away.

“Can I have you go sit backwards on that chair?” she asks nodding towards a chair in front of a gray backdrop.

“Your wish is my command,” he says dramatically as he heads over to the set.

As he sits, she brings her camera in closer than most of the shoots they’d done together.

“Need a few real good up close ones,” she explains as she adjusts the lens. “Just act natural, try a few different faces and poses. Maybe a hand under the chin, hand on the jaw, things like that. I’m just going to keep taking them as we go.”

Adjusting his pose after every few clicks, he finds himself more focused on Y/N’s face in front of him. There was something endearing about the seriousness on her face, how completely focused she looked.

She was clearly in her element. A smile spreads across his face as he remembers the day they met, and the nerves she had then. She’d faked confidence that day to make it. Now it was obviously genuine. She knew what she was doing, and she was good at it.

“Cute smile there Lewis,” she teases as she clicks the camera again. “Thinking about something in particular?”

“Just how intense you look now compared to the day we met,” he admits, turning his head slightly. “Look at you being a professional photographer.”

“And look at you modeling like a fucking icon, not even needing my direction,” she chuckles.

“We’ve come a long way haven’t we?” he agrees as he leans on one hand.

“From ‘what the fuck did I get myself into’ to ‘I got this shit’ in a few years is a pretty good progression.”

“Speaking of progression,” he starts as he leans down to rest his hands and chin on the top of the chair. “You still owe me on going to lunch.”

“You got it,” she responds simply. “After this?”

“Works for me.”

After another half hour of shots, they call it a day as the crew comes in to take care of the equipment.

“So there’s a small place a few blocks from here,” Lewis says walking up to Y/N.

“Works for me, walking over?”

“Yeah,” he answers as they leave the building, squinting at the sunlight after being in the dark studio.

They made it to the cafe rather quickly, small jokes passing between the two of them on the way and as they slide into the booth.

As the menus are tossed on the table, Y/N grabs one and looks up at Lewis, “I suppose I should have ask if they have good food here?”

He shrugs and flips through the menu, “I just saw it on the way here.”

“Guess that works,” she chuckles as she looks as well.

After ordering they talk about some of the things they’d recently been doing for work, and she shows him various photos on her phone from her most recent shoots.

Within no time the food arrives at their table, and they settle into a comfortable conversation as they eat, asking various questions here and there. Listening to her talk, about contracts, hobbies, family, and friends made him want to know more. And the more questions she asked him, the more he realized how easy it was to tell her about his own life.

After the plates had been removed from their table, one question was still burning in his mind. He felt stupid to ask it. Maybe it was ridiculous. But he had to try.

“Do you think we could maybe uh..” he starts out before letting the request die in his throat. No, asking for that would be too stupid.

“Could we what?” she pushes, her gaze holding his.

“Just, I don’t know. Take a picture together?” He tries simply, scolding himself internally for asking.

She looks confused for a moment before smiling and pulling out her phone, “Yeah definitely! I’d wanted one with you, but when we first worked together I didn’t know if I should ask, then after that we’d worked together so much it felt weird to ask.”

“And here I was just thinking you didn’t like me enough,” he jokes as she gets up and slides into his side of the booth to sit beside him.

“Nah, you’re my favorite,” she admits as she hits the camera app and lifts it above them.

He slings an arm over her shoulders, carefully pulling her a little closer for the photo, and she presses her cheek against his as they both look up at the camera making cheesy smiles.

After clicking it a few times, she lowers the phone to look at them in the gallery, “Oh those are cute ones, look at you modeling without any direction again.”

“It’s cute because I’m not the focus of the pictures,” he says surprising himself. He sheepishly lifts his arm off her shoulders and clears his throat. “Could you send me them?”

“Yeah of course,” she responds, either having not heard his comment or registered it how he meant it. She swipes over to her contacts and hands him her phone, “Just add your contact so I can send it. I think we’ve known each other long enough that you should have my number.”

“You think that,” he chuckles as he puts his number in her phone. “But now you’ve opened the flood gates to me sending you stupid shit.”

She rolls her eyes and accepts her phone back from him to send him the pictures, “I’ll live. Stupid pictures make the stress of the world a bit better sometimes anyway.”

“A lot of stress in the freelance photography business?”

She sighs and fidgets her phone in her hands as his goes off signaling he’d received the pictures. “It’s a fickle business,” she admits quietly. “Everything can be going great and fantastic right now, but you mess up one shoot, and the following ones will be harder and harder to book. There’s not a lack of photographers as you can imagine. We’re both in fickle businesses.”

He nods understandingly and reaches up to squeeze her hand on the table.

“Honestly you and your team are like god sent to me,” she says. “I get anxious over having chose this type of career sometimes, everything riding on the next shoot, always knowing there’s a chance I might not get another contract. But your team always seems to pick me out from the list then invite me here for this. Your manager said you liked working with me, and I really enjoy working with you. It’s some stability in a career that’s not always stable. So yeah, thank you for continuing to go with me. It’s been a wild ride the last few years, but I’ve loved growing my career right alongside yours and meeting back up seeing where we each are every now and again.”

He smiles at her before pulling her into a hug the best he can in the booth. They both stay silent, and maybe hold on a bit longer than they should. But he doesn’t want to let go. Something about it just felt… right.

After a few moments he can tell she’s fidgeting, so he pulls back to look at her questioningly.

“Sorry,” she says with a sheepish grin. “Your hair was tickling my nose, it’s starting to get long again.”

“Sorry,” he says with a laugh, reaching up to fix a flyaway hair on her from their hug. “You fix my hair all the time, I should return the favor sometime.”

“The star fixing the photographer’s hair huh?”

“Well… fixing a friend’s hair?” he asks tentatively.

“That works for me,” she nods and leans back against the booth. “I’m enjoyed this by the way, spending time with you outside the studio.”

“Same,” he responds, reaching out for his drink, his throat suddenly very dry.

They sit in silence another few moments as he traces the pattern on the table, “I’m disappointed when it’s not you.”

“Huh?” She asks, obviously confused at his statement.

“I-I mean, when I go in for a shoot. When the photographer isn’t you,” he hastily explains. “I look forward to working with you.”

“You know I’m going to have to tease you for this next time right?” she says with a grin, reaching up to squeeze his cheek.

“I’d be more disappointed if you didn’t,” he adds.

Sitting in the booth awhile longer, they ask a variety of questions and joke around until she notices the sun starting to set outside the window.

“Shit,” she mumbles, pulling her phone out and looking at the time. “Didn’t realize we’d been here for hours, I should probably get going.”

“Fuck, it’s that late?” he frowns as he looks at his own phone, several unread messages sitting on his lockscreen. “Yeah we should head back.”

“Bunch of messages for you too?” she asks as they slide out of the booth and head toward the door.

“Ay,” he nods unhappily. “Someone waiting for you?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “I have a friend staying with me right now.”

“Oh,” his shoulders relax at her explanation. “Thought we’ve worked together this long and you were about to suddenly mention now about a husband and kid at home.”

“Nah none of those,” she kicks at the rocks on the path in front of her. “Most guys aren’t too happy with the long hours and traveling that my job needs sometimes. And I can’t be with someone that’s either going to be upset all the time or want me to quit my career. It’s stressful at times, but I love what I do.”

“I get that, traveling makes dating hard,” he agrees. “But I think it can work if both the people want it to.”

“Yeah that’s probably true, good outlook to have on it.”

As they continue to walk back to the studio, he doesn’t know what to say. She happily chatters about other things that he nods to with a smile. But he wants to tell her he wants to talk more. To know her more. That he wants to do this again. But all the words are lost on him as he turns to look at her smiling at him, the setting sun shining off her hair.

Once they reach her car, she wraps her arms around him to give him a hug before slipping into the front seat, “So see you the next time you need some photos huh?”

No. I want to see you sooner. “Yeah that sounds about right,” he says instead, trying to hide his disappointment as her door closes and she pulls out of the parking lot.

He was sure he’d see her again sometime. And he didn’t know exactly what he was feeling. But he knew he wanted to get to know her even better.

Later that night his phone pings with an Instagram notification. Grabbing his phone from the table next to his bed he clicks the notification to see Y/N had posted one of the photos they’d taken together earlier. “Another great shoot with the one and only @LewisCapaldi. Easily one of the best singers and people I’ve had the privilege of meeting, working with, and getting to know <3 Thanks for being so easy to work with, and so fun to spend time with Lewis, here’s to several more years of working together.”

He smiles down at it, and quickly double taps the image then leaves a heart in the comments before setting his phone back down on the nightstand. He’d planned on going to sleep, but the smile on his face and his racing heart in his chest tell him what he’d been trying to figure out earlier.

With a grunt he flips his light back on and pulls his notebook from his drawer to write out the lyrics in his head.

“So that’s the gist of the plans,” Lewis’ manager concludes as Lewis nods along to the tour plans he was going over. Partially distracted by Y/N’s name showing up on his lock screen with a meme. They’d been texting back and forth every so often since they last saw each other. Mainly memes and sarcastic comments about things going on in their lives, but every time her name popped up on his screen he could feel the unmistakable happiness in him.

“Lewis?” his manager asks expectantly, drawing his attention back to the meeting.

“I- uh, yeah what’d you ask?” he asks sheepishly.

“Are you ok with that arrangement?”

“What arrangement?”

Sighing, his manager sits back down, “I said one of our usual photographers for the tour is unavailable, we were discussing checking with Y/N to see if she’d be available.”

“I’m fine with that,” he answers immediately, almost too fast.

“Good, because we already started drafting the contract,” he smirks knowingly at Lewis. “I’ll give her a call tomorrow.”

“Class, let me know what she says?” he asks as his eyes are drawn to his phone again as it lights up with another notification from the girl in question.

“I’m guessing she’s going to tell you before I even have the chance,” he laughs as Lewis swipes his phone off the table, his cheeks turning red.

“Are we done here?”

“Yeah, go ahead and get out of here.”

Sitting at his desk the next morning writing, Lewis’, phone starts ringing. Seeing the photo of him and Y/N, he swipes to answer, “Hello?”

“A whole fucking tour Lewis!” she shouts into the phone, causing him to pull it away from his ear with a laugh.

“Is that a bad thing…?” he questions.

“No! I just can’t believe it, I’ve done a few concerts for a few people before, but a whole tour,” she says in amazement. “I just can’t believe it.”

“Well you’re a great photographer you should believe it,” he states.

“Thanks,” she replies sounding a lot calmer. “For everything.”

“Hey I didn’t pull strings,” he insists. “You did this on your own, all they did was ask me if I was cool with it.”

“Well, thanks for being cool with me following you around for three months,” she adds.

“As I see it,” he starts, “Might as well just invite you to be there for a solid block of time since you always seem to show up anyways.”

“Now you’re making me sound like a creep.”

“Says the person that just took a contract to follow me around taking pictures for three months,” he teases.”

“You know what,” she replies, “You’ve got a point. I should get going though, I’m supposed to head over to the office to sign the contact in an hour.”

“Sounds good,” he answers as he traces the lines on the paper in his notebook. “See you in a few weeks?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I still can’t fucking believe this,” Y/N says as she meets up with Lewis and the rest of the crew after they’ve made it through airport security.

“You’ll get used to it,” he says simply, gently bumping his arm against hers. “Sit by me on the flight?”

“You don’t have to sit with someone else?”

“Nah, we choose right before we get on usually,” he says as they stop in front of a window overlooking the tarmac. “And I’d… like to get to know you better.”

Tearing her gaze away from the planes in front of them, she looks up at him, “Get to know me better how?”

“In a friendly way,” he explains, forcing himself to hold her gaze and not back down. “And maybe.. more if that’s something you’d want?”

Instead of an immediate answer, she simply smiles and reaches out to take ahold of his hand as they both turn to look back outside. “I’d like that.”

Letting out the breath he’d unknowingly been holding, he squeezes her hand gently in his own, “Looks like we’re going to have an interesting few months figuring this all out huh?”

“We’ll learn together,” she states happily. “Just like we always have.”

-----

Masterlist

Request List

#lewis capaldi #lewiscapaldi #lewis capaldi x reader #lewis capaldi imagines #divinely uninspired to a hellish extent #celebrity imagines #fanfiction

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