#angst all the way
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I have a thing for angsty anderperry
Don't judge me
#dead poets society#neil perry#todd anderson#dps#anderperry#todd and neil#not saying this because i am writing one#angst#angst all the way#i want them to be happy#but at the same time making them miserable..?#idk man#I'm a sick person
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"The Lady and the Magister"
Who else is playing AFK Journey? Tell me I'm not the only one who thinks there should be a conflict between the mc, vala, and mirael.
And no it's not because I can't choose between them. I just love aNGST.
(an hour and a half cooldown thingy, I just wanted to draw something I want because I'm very stressed and pressured the past and incoming days đ)
#fanart#art#illustration#artnijojo#artists on tumblr#digital art#character illustration#artwork#artists#fan art#afk journey#mirael#vala#afk journey fanart#pining#angst all the way#angsty#digital aritst#digital illustration#digital drawing#digital artist#artists of tumblr
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Brokeback Mountain is such a pretty film! Itâs also so sad it broke my heart but omg the visuals. The colors, the scenery, the positioning of characters, also the musical is absolutely FINEST.
(Okay fine Iâm making myself obsessed with the aesthetic so I donât need to think about the angst)
The final shirt scene broke me.
I feel like I got so numb about that whole film that I didnât even have the energy to cry about it. Like I usually very easily cry at movies. But I was just sitting there and went omg omg omg no noooo omg throughout the whole thing.
#imaginarythingys#brokeback mountain#jake gyllenhaal#heath ledger#ang lee#sad and gay#and sad#angst all the way
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Me straightforward telling stranded i don't want Will to be happy :)
#angst#angst all the way#hannibal#hannigram#hannibal lecter#will graham#hannibal nbc#hannibal series
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this song...i'm thinking thoughts...now who shall i write it for?
#god maybe it's time i write smthng rlly angsty huh#it hurts and it feels so good#ANGST ALL THE WAY#elle.rambles#Spotify
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Yummy angst đ
My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!đđ
#like...#HOLY SHIT????#ANGST ANGST ANGST#angst all the way#so yummy#thank you for your service#ill wait for pt 2#reblog#reblogs#other's art#other's comic#other's post#charlie morningstar#alastor altruist
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spiraling
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#jjk art#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#gojo satoru#jjk spoilers#jjk manga spoilers#the minute i realized how tg coded the composition n colours were i decided to turn it up to 11#i was racking my brain trying 2 figure out how to get the layered tissue paper look tht i talked abt ishida's cover art having#cycled through all my usual layer modes n nothing ws Quite right#until wouldnt u know it . divide n subtract!!!!! i NEVER use divide or subtract bc theyre impossible#but fr this??? its like they were made for it oh my god#it makes the greys look translucent n all my textures pop in a way that makes them appear splotchy n Bruised#which ws the whole point thts the Look god i am so PLEASED#when the layer modes tht notoriously get No love finally find their niche <33 peace and love <333#filing this away fr later i am going 2 have a lot of fun with this new information i think#im very happy w how the colours look n i dont think anything else wld have kept the right Mood#but i am always so >:/ when i have to use a palette tht forces me into giving megumi blue eyes#had to set aside th green eyed megu agenda fr the Aesthetic unfortunately#anyway i knew from the minute i saw it that i wanted to do smth involving the opening panel of 268#bc that panel is S tier#i figured tht if nothing came 2 me i wld just redraw it as-is bc it's alr so good but as i ws sketching i was like#u know what u havent done in a while? art tht looks like u r going Insane#art tht makes ur family ask whether everything is ok#so i once again tucked megumi's knees up 2 his chest and apologized insincerely to him fr making the third megumi angst piece in a row#:)
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Those were Vanessa's friends too in the FNAF movie
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#vanessa afton#fnaf vanessa#vanessa shelly#fnaf missing children#fnaf mci#abby schmidt#fnaf movie#fnaf fanart#OKAY time for your daily angst now#I can not stop thinking about Vanessaâs story in the fnaf movie#it was my take away that the ghost kids were actually Vanessaâs friends#and thatâs why she cares sm for them#she builds forts and checks up on them etc#the ghost kids even tells Abby that Vanessa is nice and they like her#SO I think those were Vanessaâs friends#and in some way sheâs happy Abby can talk to them#cause she doesnât want them to be alone#Vanessa Iâm so sorry this all happened to you đ©”
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TW// Abuse implication
Thinking about possible Vox and Angel's interactions and how they'd go down. Theres such a unique mix of hatred to each other and common ground with their different experiences with Valentino, has me thinking.
Also just want to clarify I love Vox's character a LOT but ofc obv don't sympathise with him or think he is any way shape or form a decent individual, cant with stupid toxic dumbass x
AND IF YOU SEE ANY MISTAKES OR TYPOS NO YOU DONT- (i was so tired when drawing it forgive me TwT)
#Man though the ANGST potential!!!!#vox and angel are in such different situations#but they have one thing in common that keeps them really close#val#and like we all know vox is super jealous#even though vals a dick#i just think the way they would go about interacting is so so interesting#ALSO THIS IS NOT HATE TO VAL OR VOX i think they are really well written and I love how shitty they are#but also no apologizing for them either ygm? :>#SENDING LOVE AND KEEP YOURSELF SAFE OUT THERE. đ€đ€#hazbin hotel#vox#angel dust#hazbin hotel vox#huskerdust#voxval#hazbin#hazbin hotel fanart#tribbleart#<3
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âWeâre not datingâ âBut you belong to me.â
#Iâm sensing angst on the way#agatha x rio#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#lesbian#mine#vidarkness#agathario
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i vote that next year instead of reading Dracula we do a Jeeves & Wooster Book Club. those two never got the rabid tumblr shipping fandom they deserved (disqualified for the sheer technicality of being published a century too soon). we must correct this injustice
#jeeves and wooster#i want to watch tumblr go rabid i want to watch ao3 overflow with jeeves/wooster fanfiction#yes obviously the fandom EXISTS but it's a cozy little neighborhood#a handful of talented artists and writers doing their best to keep their charming little village going#but i'm tired of cozy i want this fandom TRENDING#I WANT TO SEE THIS ON MY DASHBOARD PEOPLE#i swear to you if they made a shiny new tv series tumblr would absolutely obsess over these characters. good omens levels of obsession#it's just such a great dynamic! the good-natured overly-trusting bumbling idiot in constant need of rescuing!#the stoic all-knowing genius who quietly masterminds mayhem in order to protect this one moron he's devoted himself to for some reason#jeeves as a morosexual is just such a beautiful interpretation of the original text#wooster as a happy-go-lucky himbo who stumbles his way into a relationship with a protective caring and supremely competent mastermind#the angst and social complexities of a same-sex cross-class relationship in turn-of-the century london!#oh AND half the stories are about jeeves helping wooster get out of engagements/desperately avoid marriage#two men who live together constantly scheming to maintain their bachelorhood. this is quite literally the main plot point#the gay subtext is there! the gay subtext is there and very ripe for picking!!!#this thing is LOCKED AND LOADED we can pounce literally any time
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I love those fics where the JL learns about Jason (or the entire batfam, wtv) and realise that the Red Hood, who ran Batman in circles for a good while and keeps him on his toes, took over the entire crime-ridden drug empire of Gotham in just a few months, ran (or is still running) the Iceberg lounge and is just objectively terrifying: is also a nineteen-year-old with this baby face. THIS is who multiple drug lords answered to and who protects Crime Alley.
#i love him so much#he is a ball of teen angst in the best way possible#he gets shit DONE#âyou did all this and you're NINETEEN?!â#jason: what like it's hard?#jason todd#dc comics#batman#batfam#red hood#sorry im just picturing the JL finally getting Jason's helmet off#and THIS is Jason#under allat he really is just 19
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psych is such a relief compared to other fandoms. we all know shawn is bisexual and has the potential to be in love with all 3 of his best friends but like i never see any active hate about it. like more than one ship? polycule. donât like any of them? theyâre all still besties. itâs just such a calm feeling to scroll through the psych tag and just see them all being silly. i love it here
#donât get me wrong there is angst itâs just about other things#this is specifically about shipping and ship wars#also this is just from what iâve seen so#i could be way off#i just havenât seen anyone hating on each otherâs ships#side eyeing hp marauders spn and mcu#we could all stand to be a little more calm#psych#shassie#shules#shawngus#em saying things
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I'll wait for your love - 18+
See part 1 | See Part 2 | Part 3 of We can't be friends (wait for your love)
The only thing youâre sure of is that you donât want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best.
Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader
DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions + detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact! You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you donât like it, donât read.Â
WARNINGS: Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, case details (barely) mentioned, alcohol mentioned like once. Smut (not the focus at all): making out, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, praise, use of pet names (angel, pretty girl, etc). Proceed at your own risk.
Word count: 10.4K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.
Avoiding Spencer wasnât overly difficult on the flight back to D.C. You werenât entirely sure how to face him after he risked his life for you, so you just pretended to be asleep the whole time. You even took a separate jeep from the tarmac to avoid a car ride back with him, and almost made a clean getaway to your car in the parking lot when Hotch stopped you.Â
âIâm sorry to hold you back, but I do need the Anchorage report on my desk before tomorrow morning. It canât be put off any longer.â
He looked extremely apologetic and you understood. Youâre grateful he gave you as much time as he has. Thatâs how you ended up stuck at work til the later hours of the evening. Besides the few workaholics, security guards and janitors roaming around the corridors, the only other person there with you is Spencer, oddly. Even Hotch has gone home. Youâve spent more time stalking the doctor work through the pile of case files on his desk than you have writing in the one on yours. Only when you're caught do you look away.Â
âEverything okay?â The innocent curiosity in his big eyes further reddens the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.
âFine.â You mutter, dipping your head back down to the open page.
Youâre never going to get this damn file done if you canât get him out of your head, and him being barely three feet away from you doesnât help. Itâs very difficult for you to get your words from pen to paper. Anchorage wasnât haunting you like it did at first. It was a traumatic event, yes, but alone isnât the cause of thisâŠblock. Obviously the reality that youâre leaving is starting to dawn on you. Somehow your mind has linked this case with your departure and finishing this report makes it more official than your actual resignation.Â
Plus, as much as you definitely hate Spencer, you do did care for him. The shock of him almost getting himself killed in front of you is another thing occupying your mind. Itâs barely been twenty four hours since then, itâs still fresh. You can see him stand and grab his satchel in your peripheral vision, heâs preparing to leave. There are a lot of memories attached to that brown leather bag.Â
Things he would carry in there for you when you forgot your own bag.Â
You donât make it obvious that youâre watching him gather his things in small glances.Â
He bought extra hair clips for you to keep in there because you would often forget those too.Â
Itâs over now. No point in dwelling on it. You shake your head once heâs out of sight, trying to force him out of your thoughts. Now that heâs gone youâre hoping to actually be able to get some work done.
He taught you chess with the mini chess set he keeps in there. You discovered that you actually quite liked chess and would ask to play with him all the time. It was also his âsecretâ weapon to help you calm down.Â
You roll your eyes to push back the tears from the memories that refuse to stop playing. This can wait until you get home, itâs not important.Â
It wasnât the chess set that helped you feel calm. Spencer could win chess against you in just a few moves, but he would deliberately stretch out the game so you could have room to breathe. The longer the game, the more time you had to spend focused on the moves and slow down your thoughts. You could open up at your own pace. He would let you feel in control.
It doesnât matter if heâs near you or not, Spencer has a way of invading your headspace wherever he is. Your train of thoughts is interrupted with a light thud on your right. You covertly roll the tears away again and turn to examine the source of the noise. A mug of coffee placed on your desk by
âSpencer?â You sputter breathlessly.Â
âSorry. I know you told me to stop. This is the last time I promise.âÂ
You donât fully comprehend what heâs going on about, not expecting him to be here at all.Â
âI thought you left.â
âI didâ was. I was leaving, but I thought Iâd make you some coffee before I go. Since youâve been here a while.â He awkwardly explains.Â
You steadily direct your attention back to the mug, reeling in what was happening.Â
âBefore you get mad, this really is just a cup of coffee from a colleague who thought it might help keep you energised if youâre planning to stay late. Thereâs no ulterior motiveâŠâ
He continues rambling but youâre not mentally present to hear any of it.Â
He made you coffee.Â
Even though youâve been nothing short of an absolute bitch. Granted he was a bitch first, but the point is that heâs still thinking of your well being regardless. You canât hide your tears from him this time. Itâs the soft buzz of your name that draws you back to him.Â
âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to upset you! Iâll take the coffeeââ
His panicked sentiment is cut short when you jump out of your seat and shove past him. The breakdown youâve been avoiding hits you like a ton of bricks. You run into the nearest empty office and he runs after you, making it past the door before you can lock him out.Â
âSpencer pâplease get out! Iâm fine.â Youâre pacing in the same spot, fanning away the stream falling down your cheeks, hyperventilating.
He doesnât respond to you, instead cautiously taking your hand in his. Youâre in too frenzied a state to care. He guides you to sit on the couch against the wall and you blindly go along with it, still trying to get yourself together.Â
You want to stop the tears, but you canât do that until you get your breathing under control. He slowly wraps his arms around you and you slump into him, head buried in his chest. You should try to fight it, you should push him away, but you canât. Right now, surrounded by his scent, held in his arms, you donât want to move. Itâs not something you can properly explain, but the feeling is so comforting that nothing else matters. All you know is that youâre safe and thatâs enough for you to allow yourself to finally break down.Â
The first few sobs are loud, like thereâs not enough air in the world to stabilise your lungs. They fizzle out into silent whimpers and you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater, balling it in your fist, just letting yourself feel. Spencer still hasnât said a word. His right hand is rubbing circles on your back and his left hand is gently scratching just above the nape of your neck.Â
You stay like that for a while, even after youâve stopped crying. Itâs been so long since youâve been in this little bubble with him and you donât want it to end. You pull away when you feel the strap of his satchel across his stomach as your hand drops to his lap. He visually follows every move you make.Â
âYouâre still wearing your bag.â You sniffle, leaning back.Â
âI am.â He whispers, understanding that you no longer want to be touched.Â
He stays in his original position; facing you, but now with one arm resting on top of the backrest and the other idly in his lap. Youâve moved so that now you're facing ahead with your back leaning against the cushions, pulling your knees into your chest. You had never found comfort in silence until the first time you experienced it with Spencer. Staying huddled, you divert your eyes towards him. Thereâs a distinct wet patch on his shirt. Itâs less visible on his sweater-vest, but itâs there.Â
âYour shirtâs wet now.â Itâs almost impossible to make out what youâre saying with your mouth muffled against your arm, but of course, Spencer manages anyway.Â
âItâll dry.â He smiles, tone delicate.Â
âButâ germs.â You choke a little due to your previous crying.Â
âIt can be washed.â Heâs using his comforting voice again.Â
âIâm sorry.â
âDonât be.â
The silence resumes. Neither of you dares to move, trying to freeze this moment. Itâs obvious that you didnât grasp how badly you craved each otherâs presence.Â
âDâdoâŠâ The initial sound grabs Spencerâs full attention again. You take a deep breath, hoping he wants to stay here as much as you do. âDo you still carry that little chess set with you?â
A small, airy chuckle comes out from him.Â
âWould you like to play?â
âPlease.âÂ
He creates some more space between you and begins to set up the board once heâs pulled it out of his satchel. You move to accommodate the set up, now facing him with your legs crossed on the couch and shoes abandoned on the floor. You wait for him to make the first move. After the opening moves the game doesnât seem to get any harder and you know heâs throwing the game. Youâre okay at chess, but heâs obviously a lot better.Â
âYouâre going easy on me.â You mumble.
âBecause youâre not even trying.â He replies blithely.
âWhy are you doing this?â
âLike I said, youâre making it too easy.â He gently teases.
âNot that. Helping me. You hate me, remember?â You say it like itâs the most casual thing in the world.Â
âI donât hate you.âÂ
âYou literally told me that you hate me.â You chuckle, numb to the hurt that sentence once brought you.Â
âSo did you.â He counters in defence, trailing your hand as it carelessly moves your queen to her demise.Â
âI was angry.âÂ
âSo was I.â He spared your queen, in turn leaving his king vulnerable.Â
âIt doesnât matter nowâŠâ You donât finish the rest of your sentence but Spencer still hears it.
Youâre leaving soon anyway.
âIt matters to me.â If he left something unsaid you choose to ignore it.Â
âYouâre letting me win.â You whisper, feeling the urge to cry some more, but thereâs no tears left.Â
He doesnât make a move, bringing the game to a halt. Heâs waiting for you to meet his eyes. You know what heâs going to say.Â
âSpencer, don't.â You beseech.
âWhy?â If you looked at him instead of the board youâd see the way his eyes are pleading at you.Â
âThereâs no point.â This time itâs your voice that cracks.Â
You're looking everywhere else and it makes you too aware of your surroundings. Like how the couch is lined up directly under a window that anyone could peek into.Â
âLeaving is not the only option.â He solicits.Â
He regards your discomfort and closes the blinds from where heâs sitting, pulling you back into the privacy of your bubble.Â
âThereâs nothing that you can say to make things go back to how they were.â You bite the inside of your cheek, fiddling with a random pawn.Â
Itâs not a proper two way conversation. Youâre talking to yourself just as much as Spencerâs talking to you. Youâre both trying to convince you of what youâre saying.Â
âThings donât have to go back to how they were.â The squeaks in his soothing tone are starting to melt any resolve you have left.Â
âThereâs no reason for me to stay.â You oppose, trying to make any argument stick.
âI can think of more reasons for you to stay than for you to go.âÂ
Thereâs an underlying tension bubbling. Neither of you notice it over your desperate tug of war.Â
âI donât think thereâs anything that you can say to get me to stay.â Another baseless sentence meant more for you than for him.Â
âGive me one chance. One chance to convince you.â He can see your internal struggle at his request and he throws out one final plea to sway you. âFor nothing more than closure.âÂ
Closure.
Youâve spent months in turmoil over the hows and the what ifs, trying to conjure answers to questions that wouldnât stop pestering you. You couldnât turn him down even if you wanted to.Â
âClosure?â You repeat, eyes finally latching onto his.
âClosure.â He whispers back in reassurance.Â
âEven if you canât convince me?â You caution, not wanting to give him false hope.
He doesnât say anything, thinking over the scenario in his head. He simply nods and you mimic the action, blinking away the blur in your vision and dragging around chess pieces. It takes Spencer a second to figure out that you were moving them back to their default places.
âOkay new game.â You announce.Â
Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate.Â
âI can ask you any question I want and you have to answer honestly. If by the end of the game Iâm not convinced to stay, you back off for the remainder of my time here.â You pause for him to interject, but he doesnât. âThat means we stay away from each other, only talking when needed for work. Even then as cordially and professionally as possible. No more trying to make casual conversation or bringing me coffee or anything like that.â
âTill the end of the game?â He studies you.Â
âYup.â You smack your lips together. âTil one of us checkmates the other.â
âThis means youâll actually give me a fair shot?âÂ
âBetween the two of us, Iâm not the one known for cheating at games.â You jab, trying to ease the tension you could definitely feel now.Â
âI meant a fair shot at convincing you. As in youâll seriously take what I have to say into account.â He discards your attempt.
âNo, I know. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.â
He can tell youâre trying to hold back a laugh from the small smile on your lips. Itâs as adorable to him now as it was the first time he saw it.Â
âAny rules before we start?â He asks, unable to hide his own smile.
âOnly that we have to be honest.â You answer, immediately dropping your smile.
âOkay.â He agrees, smiling slightly wider.
âOkay.â You nod again.
When he finally makes the first move it hits you that you donât actually know where to start. Theoretically, you know what you want to ask, but donât know how to ask. You donât know if you should jump straight into the questions or start with some ice breakers. Nothing is said for about four to five moves when Spencer pauses the game.Â
âAre you going to ask any questions or have you decided that you just want to play one last game for your closure?â
âHuh?â You snap your vision away from the board. âOh, sorry. I was thinking.â
âDo you want to return to the game after thinking of a few questions to ask?â He raises his brow and relaxes his jaw.
âNo, no, we donât need to do that. Letâs keep playing, the questions will come to me.â You brush off his suggestion and motion for him to continue with his turn. He doesnât.
âWhat?â Your voice raises and you scrunch your nose from perplexity.
âSorry, itâs just that youâve put us on a time limit and this is how youâre using our time?â He airs, failing to conceal his amusement.
âWell excuse me if I donât exactly have a list of questions ready to go for you.â You narrow your eyes in annoyance.Â
âWhy would you suggest this if you donât have any questions?â He tries to hold back his laugh and ends up snorting as a result.Â
âI have questions!â You jabber, unable to maintain your annoyance. âI donât know whatâ where do I even start?â
âStart with whichever one comes to you first.â He shrugs, finally making his move.Â
A lot of things come to mind when you think about it. The thing that screams the loudest twitches a nerve and you become instantly irate.Â
âOkay.â You nod, tone harsh and flat. âLetâs start with whatever the fuck possessed you on the last case. What was your thought process when you put your life in danger like that?â
He almost gets whiplash from the change in mood, his face literally reads âare you serious?â.Â
âHe was going to shoot you.â He states like itâs the most obvious thing in the world.Â
âI was wearing a vest, I wouldâve been fine.â You contend.Â
âI wasnât willing to take that risk.âÂ
âRisk?! You literally put yourself in danger for no reason!âÂ
âI think it was a pretty good reason actually!âÂ
âSpencer that wasââ You stop yourself with a grumble, inhaling deeply.Â
âIt was instinctual, okay?â He softly explains. âI saw him aim the gun at you and I just reacted.âÂ
âWell it was a stupid reaction!â You whine.Â
âIâm not going to apologise for it.â
The glare you give is piercing, you bite the inside of your cheek to hold your tongue before you say something you canât take back. Spencer throws his head back and sighs.Â
âBut I will promise not to do it again.â He adds, not fully intending to keep it.Â
This was slowly turning into another argument, both of you shooting back too fast with your responses. You arenât in the mood for another argument. So you redirect your attention to the game.Â
âCheck.â You mumble, buying yourself time to think of another question. âWhy are you here so late anyway?â
âI wanted to finish some work before tomorrow morning.â He replies, moving his king to safety.Â
âYeah, whatâs up with that? You couldâve done those tomorrow as well.â Your voice softens out of curiosity.Â
âI wanted to get them finished in case there were more tomorrow.â Itâs not his best excuse. You donât know what he means by that. He doesnât know what he means by that. Heâs lying to you.Â
You scoff, poking your tongue against your cheek. âWow. You really canât not cheat during a game, can you?âÂ
âRight, sorry.â Spencer clears his throat after the initial confusion clears. Complete honesty, it was your only rule. âI wanted to be here.â
âForâŠâ You egg on, purposely rolling your ârâs to prompt him.Â
âI wanted to make sure that you were okay.â He admits, looking away from you.Â
âWhy?â Youâre genuinely puzzled at the admission. âYouâre the one who almost died. I mean, it was stupid and your fault, but still. If anything I should be checking up on you.â
âCheck.â Thatâs the only response he gives you. He hopes that you donât push further, but he knows that you will.Â
His lack of response only forces you to think about the possible reasons by yourself, using context clues to figure it out. You are a profiler, after all.Â
âIs this because of the panic attack?â You note how his jaw twitches when he swallows at the mention. âIt is! You seriously chose to spend your night stuck at the office because of that?âÂ
âWhat else was I supposed to do? Itâs not like you would talk to me, you literally refused to even look at me!â He gripes.Â
âSpencer I think anyone would panic if they got tackled to the ground by a six foot man without warning. Iâm fine.â You giggle.
âWhat happened to complete honesty?â Itâs his turn to glare at you.
âI am being honest!â You protest.
âLying by omission is not being honest.â He rolls his eyes.
âOkay Mr. know-it-all, what am I lying about?â You challenge.
âSeriously? You donât remember?â His approach is doubtful and he just stares at your dazed expression.
âFucking spit it out already, Spence!âÂ
Any sarcasm he had geared up for a response dissipates at your use of his nickname. Heâs heard it plenty in the last few months, but not from you. For a moment things feel like they never changed. It stings in a bittersweet kind of way.Â
âYou scâscreamedâ uhââ He clears his throat and rapidly blinks, his nose twitches in the process. âDuring that panic attack, you repeatedly asked me to stay with you. Yâyou, uhâ you said you didnât think you could liââ
âStop. Stop. Stop talking.â Your voice quavers and you hold your hand up, ears burning up. âI donât wanna know.â
You donât know why it makes your heart race the way it does, you donât even remember it. He waits a while before speaking up again, wanting to be careful about how he goes about the topic without you shutting down.
âMay I ask you a question?â He voices professionally, trying to make the conversation less personal so you donât feel cornered.Â
You nod, moving your king out of check.
âIs there anybody you will talk to about Anchorage? Without pushing them away?â He keeps the game going as he speaks to provide you with a distraction.Â
âWoahâ Anchorage? Where is that coming from?â You titter.
âI want you to remember that we promised to be honest and I wonât push if you ask me to stop, but I know for a fact that you arenât okay.â He waits for you to stop him but you donât, even though you know roughly what heâs going to say. âPanic attacks aside, your avoidant behaviour around the topic, inability to focus, being easily startled, youâre showing signs of PTSD.âÂ
âSpence, câmon. I donât need to talk to anyone. I already passed the psych evals.â You attempt to make light of the situation with carefully chosen words so youâre not lying. It was a futile attempt, you know heâs not willing to budge when he doesnât give you anything more than a blank stare.Â
âWhy does this matter so much to you?â You sigh in defeat. âWhatever happenedâŠthatâs a part of the job, you know that.â
âI also know, first hand, that it takes over your life. You canât run from it, no matter how much you try to.â His tone is soft as he speaks, yet you feel like heâs accusing you.Â
âI am not running! Why would you say Iâm running?â You object with a high voice, shrugging your shoulders. âAnd itâs not taking over my life. Also, check.â
âBecause thatâs what you do when you donât want to deal with something.â He states point blank.
âWoahâ soâ that was entirely unnecessary.â You stammer, unable to deny it.Â
âIâm not criticising you. I just happen to know you and I know that you have a tendency to run from your problems. And it is taking over your life.âÂ
âYouâre profiling!â You gasp.
âYou know that itâs not something we can just turn off! No matter how much we pretend like we can.â He waves his hands defensively.Â
You canât argue with that, your lips twisting to the side.Â
âYou want me to be honest?â You murmur sheepishly.Â
âAlways. Please.â He responds gently, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.
âI donât want to talk about it. I spend a good chunk of my day actively avoiding thinking about it, but somehow I always end up thinking about it anyway. At times itâs like I can almost feelâŠâ You breathe in instinctively. âThis is the first time in months Iâve been able to do anything without it lingering in the back of my mind. Can we please talk about it another time? I would rather talk about other thingsâŠâ
Another time.Â
â...right now.âÂ
Youâve implied that there will be another time to talk and he definitely caught it, even if he pretends that he hasnât. You donât even know if what you said is true, you got too comfortable with the familiarity of his friendship. It was something you said out of habit from back when you two actually were friends. Not even a full hour's worth of conversation with him and heâs already worming his way back in.
âUmââ You drag yourself further back on the couch, creating more physical distance.Â
âThatâs okay. We donât have to talk about it at all.â Spencer senses your urgency to leave the situation and jumps into damage control. âItâs your turn.â
âNo, um, I shouldâ I should go. Thanks for doing thiâ helping me.â You turn away from him, aiming for your shoes and ready to bolt.
âThe gameâs not over.â He points out.
âYes it is.â You declare, still in the process of putting on your shoes.
âYou said til checkmate.â He huffs, shifting out of his seated position.Â
âI forfeit!â You throw your arms out in a shrugging manner, standing up after him.
âI canât believe this. Youâre going back on your word!â He doesnât even raise his voice. Heâs just hurt.Â
âWhatâs the point, Spencer? Closure doesnât mean anything, Iâm still leaving! You canât magically change my mind!â You yell, getting louder with each sentence.Â
âI disagree. I think that youâre running again!â He blocks your way and yells back, maintaining his volume throughout.Â
âMaybe you should think less!â You suggest, still yelling. Sarcasm is your defence mechanism when you have no actual defence.Â
âYou know what else I think?â He continues, emphasising the word âthinkâ every time he says it out of spite. âI think that you agreed to this thinking I wonât be able to convince you, but I am!â
âI donât care what youââ
âI think you donât want to finish the game that you started, because youâre afraid to ask the harder questions!â
âStop.â You command, but it doesnât deter him.
âI think that youâre scared to hear my answers because then it all becomes too real for youââÂ
âStop!â The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you choke them out. âYouâre wrong.âÂ
âIf Iâm wrong then prove it. To both of us.â He sits back down and motions to the board. âAsk the real questions.âÂ
âI donât need to prove anything, youâre wrong.â You uphold.
âSo leave.â He challenges, knowing that you wonât be able to.Â
If you truly believed that heâs wrong you wouldnât feel the need to prove it, but you do and he knows that. You walk back over to the couch, head nodding from irritation, tongue poking your cheek. You kick your shoes off with a bit of force and return to your earlier position across from him.Â
âYour move.â He reminds you as you settle in.
You donât reply yet, but move your rook to set him up for the next move. Â
âCheck.â He smugly states.
âWho was she?âÂ
You donât move, examining him close for any change in his behaviour. He obviously didn't anticipate that question first, snapping his sights back on you.Â
âSorry?âÂ
âThe woman who greeted me at your door. That night at your apartment.âÂ
âCharlotte.â He replies, holding your gaze to show you heâs got nothing to hide. âWe met at the library a week before.â
âAre you guys together?â You break away first, diverting your eyes to the chess board and trying to seem unfazed when moving your knight.Â
âNo, God, no.â He denies immediately.Â
âI donât know, she seemed pretty cosy for someone you met a week prior.â You donât mean to sound as snide as you come across.
âNo, it wasnât like that at all.â He shakes his head.Â
âYou sure? Because Iâm pretty sure I saw her mark you up with a kiss on your cheek before disappearing.â You donât look at him, examining a captured pawn as you wait for him to make his move.Â
âMark me up?â He cognizes it instantly. âAre youâŠjealous?â
âWhat? No!â You vehemently deny, your voice rising in several pitches.Â
âYou are!â His eyes widen.Â
âI am not jealous.âÂ
His jaw slacks and he lets out an amused scoff. He doesnât say anything, making you feel the need to fill the silence.Â
âI only bring it up becauseâŠI know you have a thing withâŠgerms.â Your words falter because of your own uncertainty and you want to dissolve into the fucking floor.Â
Spencer tries to suppress a smile by poking his tongue out slightly. If the atmosphere was lighter heâd tease you about it, but he doesnât want to make you take off again. Still, he feels the need to clarify the events of the night.Â
âI donât know why she kissed my cheek, it was completely random.â He takes his time saying it, still fighting a smile.
You swallow nervously and purse your lips to the side in response. One question answered and you only have new ones in its place. Did she stay the night? Did she sleep on the couch or on his bed? Did he see her again?Â
âI drove her home right after you left.â He can almost hear your thoughts.Â
âWas it a date?â You softly gulp again, unsure if you even have a right to know.
âYes.â He hesitates.Â
âOh.âÂ
âI wanted to try out casual dating for once.â He chagrins. âI honestly donât know how you did it, itâs not even fun.âÂ
âNo itâs not.â You chuckle dryly. âSo no second date, I presume?â
âDefinitely not. I was just stressed the whole time.â He chuckles with you.Â
âTake a shot of tequila before you go next time, it helps settle the nerves.â You joke, jumping to give him advice you hope he doesnât take. You canât help it, itâs what youâve always done. Even if it goes against what you desire.Â
âWhile moderate consumption of tequila can help relax the nervous system, I will not be turning to alcohol for stress relief.âÂ
âThen blast classical music while you get ready and give yourself a pep talk out loud, itâs actually really efficientââ
âThere wonât be a next time. For a really long time, if ever.â He interjects, miffed at your insistence.Â
âYou willingly plan on committing to lifelong celibacy?â You exclaim with a puzzled look. âWhy?!â
Spencer laughs at how raw your reaction is. He didnât plan on giving out any more details but, with that prompt he decides that itâs now or never.Â
âI donât think any future dates will appreciate me picturing someone else in their place the whole time.âÂ
Oh.Â
Both of you lock eyes at the same time. This is not a road youâre prepared to go back down, even if thatâs literally the whole point of this conversation. Youâre too stunned to reply and Spencer uses this as an opportunity to be elaborate. He doesnât want any misunderstandings this time.Â
âI couldnât stop picturââ
âShut up.â You blurt out the sentence in almost one word.Â
Your heartâs racing like youâre standing on the edge of a cliff. Youâre flustered, every part of your body is heated from how terrified you are.
âYâyou donât have tâtâŠyou donât owe mâme an explanation.â You try to elaborate, contradicting yourself and stumbling on your words.
âI want to.â He reads that youâre apprehensive but pushes regardless.Â
âPlease donât.â The tears that you thought had dried out were building again.
âWhy ask if you wonât let me answer?â
You donât have anything to say to that. Did you want answers? Yes. Still, you didnât expect how hard theyâd be to hear. He whispers your name and you scramble to think of your next move, and not in chess. Youâre unable to even think about the game right now. You want to bolt, but you canât even get yourself to move. So you deflect.Â
âBecause it doesnât matter.â
âI disagree.â Although his tone is subdued, the pace of his wording is faster. âI think it does matter and thatâs why youâre afraid to hear it.â
Heâs right but you canât bring yourself to agree. This is only going to over-complicate an already complicated situation.
âItâs not enough.â Your voice cracks.
âHow can it be if you wonât even give it a fair shot?âÂ
âFair?âÂ
It comes out louder than you intended. His words trigger resentment within you and you snap.Â
âNothing about any of this is fair! I mean, fucking hell, Spencer, four years. Thatâs how long weâve been friends. I mean Iâve shared shit that I thought I would be taking to the fucking grave with you! You were my best friend for four fucking years and all it took was like, five seconds?â
You sob, softer than when you were first crying, but the frustration is clear. He reaches out to touch your hand, but you push his hand away.Â
âNo!â You choke, sobbing harder when you try to compile your thoughts. âFive seconds to destroy all of it! It makes me wonder if everything we shared, our friendship, was it ever even that strong?â
Your anger simmers to sadness, as evident with how your yelling fades into whispering in the last sentence.Â
âI canât even tell you when exactly those five seconds were. I mean, I knowâŠbutâŠI donât. Where did it go wrong, Spence?âÂ
âI donât know.â Is all he can say after a beat of silence.
He knows exactly where it went wrong.Â
âYeah, me neither!â You sniffle, immediately wiping a single tear that manages to escape. âSo again, it doesnât matter.âÂ
âWhen you took it back.â
âWhat?âÂ
âThatâs where everything changed for me. You showed up at my apartment drunk, after your date with Nathan. Your exact words were âI mean as an amazing friendâ.â His voice strains like heâs forcing himself to speak.Â
Your gaze falls, eyes darting everywhere as you try to jog your memory beyond the one sentence you remember.Â
âI donât understand.â You croak.
âYou know, if I wasnât who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.â He chuckles bitterly, fighting back tears of his own. âThat wasâ that was, uh, what you said before you took it back.â
âSpence, pleaseâŠâ You whine without sound, tilting your head back and chewing on your lip as a final attempt to stay composed.Â
âNo, you wanted to know where it went wrong.â He laughs falsely to downplay his tears. âYou can say it doesnât matter all you want, but the fact is, it does matter. It matters to me and I wonât let you run from it anymore.âÂ
You canât look at him. Not with tears free falling down your face. You cup your hands together in your lap, pressing your fingers and nails together.Â
âYou told me that I couldnât love you.â You struggle to sound your words.Â
âIâm an idiot.â Another chuckle, but he sounds defeated. âWhen you said that, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to say that I do love you.âÂ
You tearfully laugh at this admission.Â
âI only took it back because of what you said. I panicked. I thought Iâd ruined thingsâŠwhich I guess, I still did.â Another laugh from you.
Spencer responds with the same regretful sound.Â
The irony spurs another fit of giggles amongst you, this one slightly longer and infinitely more rueful than the last. You look anywhere but at each other until it grows quieter.Â
âIf you loved me, why the fuck would you tell me that I couldnât love you?â You sound just as, if not more, defeated than him.Â
âLove.â Spencer corrects without missing a beat.Â
Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps.Â
âI was so hung up on every single part of your sentence that I didnât know what to say first.â He proceeds to answer you without leaving much room to process what he said. âI wanted to tell you that I do love you. I love you as you are. Not as somebody else.â
âBut you didnât say any of that.â You ignore all his admissions, not fully comprehending.Â
âLike I said, Iâm an idiot. I was in so much disbelief and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.â He sullenly huffs.
You donât reply, sniffling with your head down.Â
âFor like a second, I had everything I wanted. Then you took it back and it was like my whole world had been ripped out from under me. In those five seconds, youâd given me a taste of what Iâd spent four years convincing myself I couldnât have and I justâ I couldnât go back after that.â He adds after a stillness.Â
After a short while, your focus shifts from your hands to the board in front of you. The gameâs been long forgotten. Youâre immersed in the conversation, in spite of how strenuous it is.Â
âI understand why you were distant, even mean, at first.â You snivel. âBut after a while you just became downright cruel.âÂ
Spencer doesnât shy away from your gaze when you do look at him. His skin is as drenched from crying as yours is.Â
âI mean âI donât want to see your faceâ? I know that I donât really have a leg to stand on anymore, but, what the fuck Spencer?âÂ
He doesnât cringe any less with every reminder. Heâs truly regretted the words since they left his mouth.Â
âI wanted to hurt you.â He reveals. âI thought you were being deliberately cruel and I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling.â
âDeliberately?âÂ
He nods, hanging his head.
âI thought that you knew how I felt and were just trying to be funny or something.âÂ
âWell I didnât. I wasnât.â You cut him off with a constricted voice.
âEven if you did, itâs not an excuse.â His eyes are glistening from the outpour of tears, but he still lifts his sights back to you. âIâm sorry.âÂ
You donât know how to acknowledge his apology at all. Youâre not even angry anymore, all you feel is sorrow and regret for the way everything happened. An entire friendship down the drain due to an unfortunate set of circumstances.Â
âThis is so fucked up.â You say with another mordant laugh. âAll of this could have been avoided if we just talked about it.â
It stung less when you had somebody to blame for it. Your vision blurs and you make no effort to clear it, letting yourself cry openly.Â
âWeâre talking about it now?â Itâs almost a squeak, the way itâs spoken.
âYeah, but,â your shoulders slump, defeatedly, and you have to pause to control your sob, âwhat good does it do now? Iâve already lost the best thing thatâs ever happened to me in the most pathetic way possible.â
âIâm right here.â He counters in such a small voice that it gives your goosebumps.Â
âSpencer, too many things have been saidâŠâ
âWhen you first joined the team, I instantly knew I liked you.âÂ
He chews on his lip and darts his eyes around while he contemplates if he wants to continue.Â
âI thought it was because of your kind nature. You were so sweet to everybody.â He decides he does, but his voice shakes throughout. âYou have this giftâŠyou make people feel so good about themselves. Whenever you spoke to me, I felt like the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to like you.â
You want to pretend like you donât know where heâs going with this. You want to stop him, but your voice is stuck in your throat.
âIt wasnât until you bought me coffee for the first time that I realised just how much I liked you.â He chuckles again, as he reminisces in the memory. âYou didnât even get my order right until the fourth time, but it was still my favourite cup of the day.â
âYou make me sound like a saint.â You finally choke out, attempting to play down the confession so it doesnât crush your heart. âThe only reason I even started bringing you coffee is because you learned how I like my coffee first.âÂ
âNot a saint, an angel. Iâve fallen so deeply in love with you that there are times where it genuinely feels like Iâm in the presence of an angel.âÂ
Itâs stated with such sincerity that it knocks the wind out of your pipes. Your eyes are widened and youâre biting your tongue with your mouth closed, staring at him with your chin tucked. He seems so confident, even with the glistening from previous tears in his eyes.
âI wanted to be in your life in any way you would have me. Even when it meant that I had to accept you with other people. And it was bearable, untilâŠâ His reminiscence only ends at the memory of the night that changed everything. âLike I said, I couldnât go back.â
The last part fades into another whisper, only then do you find the courage to speak up.Â
âExactly.â You stick to your denial. âIt canât go back to how it was before.â
Your heart is so sure of what it wants, but your head is blinded by fear. Youâre at a crossroads, except one path, the path that leads to everything you long for, is clouded with a fog of uncertainty. The other path is so painfully clear, you can practically see whatâs on the other side. A fresh start, where the risk of fucking up further doesnât exist. What you donât see is Spencer.
âGood. I donât want it to go back to how it was.âÂ
Spencerâs waiting for you to enter the fog. Heâs going to be there holding your hand every step of the way.Â
âIâve already handed in my resignation.â
âThat matters less than everything youâve claimed doesnât matter.â He leans in, intensifying his eye contact.Â
âIâm pretty sure Hotch is really close to confirming my replacement.â You comment half-heartedly.Â
Youâre trying anything to dissuade both him and yourself from acknowledging the obvious, but he doesnât plan on letting you avoid it.Â
âI love you.â He whispers softly.
âSpencerâŠâ You begin when he takes hold of your hands and whatever you had to say disappears from your tongue.Â
âI love you. With every atom that makes up my body.â He repeats himself with further elaboration to instil it in your mind.
âIâm scared.â You whisper back with a sob, finally accepting it.Â
âWhy?â His voice canât be any softer, but it still cracks a little.
âBecause, you canât guarantee that itâs going to end well.â You allow your vulnerability to peek through. âAnd thatâs going to hurt more. Iâd rather leave now than fall deeper.â
Although you didnât say it back, itâs an indirect admission that you love him too. And itâs enough for him to fight harder.
âI know that my credibility isnât the greatest,â he coaxes a small, sad scoff out of you, âbut I truly believe that this, us, weâll work. Because I know that Iâm going to do everything I can to make this work.â
He feels bolder when you donât pull away from his touch, folding your fingers into your palms and cupping over them. You observe the sight as it unfolds in lieu of a verbal response.Â
âIâve spent four years judging any man that comes into your life, wishing I was in their place, swearing I would treat you better than all of them.âÂ
Spencer feels the need to fill in the silence and he lets honesty guide his confession. He leans in further as if heâs indulging his deepest secret.Â
âFour years wasted wondering what could be, cursing out those idiots, but taking no action to make it happen. And that makes me the biggest idiot out of all of them.â
When he speaks like this, with his big, imploring eyes and prayerful tone, it melts your heart to a point where it almost hurts. The more he talks, the more you begin to lean in, opening yourself up to him.
âIt took losing you to realise how badly I fucked up and for that I will never forgive myself. I know that I have no right to ask you to waste any more time on meâŠâ
Thereâs no more resistance against the pull you both physically feel to each other.Â
â...but Iâm begging you for a chance to do today what I should have done way before yesterday.âÂ
Your faces grow closer by the second, you can feel each other's breaths against skin.
âAnd Iâm going to spend every tomorrow proving what I said today.âÂ
The likelihood of him changing your mind with one conversation wasnât very high, both you and Spencer knew this when you got into it. Youâre not entirely surprised when he somehow manages to overcome those odds too. You take the step to close the gap and lightly press your lips to his.Â
It starts off soft, thereâs no lust, no ulterior motive behind it. Itâs a simple confirmation that youâre both present and this is real. Spencer doesnât shy away from the kiss, not that youâd call this a kiss. It feels more intimate, more unguarded.
Spencer pulls you onto his lap as he shifts and leans back against the backrest to allow more room for you. You wrap your arms around him and the kiss deepens. In the midst of you straddling him, he slides the entire chess board off the couch and the pieces scatter on the floor. Itâs only when you feel that the kiss canât bring you any closer to him does the lust emerge. It fuels a desire to prove that you both whole-heartedly belong to each other.Â
Thereâs no pinpointing when the switch happens. All you know is that the feeling of his lips against yours is no longer enough. You cup his jaw in your hands, swiping your tongue on his lower lip and it causes his grip on your waist to tighten. He parts his lips for you and it starts what you can only call a dance with your tongues.Â
Your breathing grows hotter, your hips subconsciously grind against him. Thereâs a prominent bulge that brushes against your heat and you whine into his mouth. Spencer grunts your name in response and then abruptly pulls away.
âWait, wait, wait, slow down.â He breathlessly whispers against your lips.Â
âWhat?â You whisper back with concern. âWhatâs wrong?â
âAre you sure you want to do this?â He gazes into your eyes, afraid that you might regret this later.
âIâve never been more sure, actually.â Youâre confident at first but the look in his eyes makes you pull back further. âUnlessâŠyouâre not sure?â
âNo, donât misunderstand me. I want you.â His tone rises just above the previous whisper with his clarification. âItâs just that the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when our emotions are running high.â
âFour years, Spencer.â You lean in again, just brushing your lips against his. âThe only reason you should be making me wait is if youâre not sure.â
He shuts that idea down by crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is so hungry, so desperate, itâs everything both of you have longed for and denied yourselves everytime youâve been in each other's presence. It doesnât take long for hands to start to roam. He traces the curve from your waist to your hips, stopping just at the hem of your shirt, tugging it like heâs asking for permission.Â
You rush to undo your buttons and he meets you halfway, starting at the bottom. His fingers brush against yours as you two reach the final button and you pull the fabric off yourself. You do the same with his shirt, lips remaining locked, except for the small gasps of air you take in between. It requires a bit more manoeuvring with him, but youâre both soon shirtless.Â
His mouth travels to your jaw and you shut your eyes from pleasure as he continues down to your neck. The stubble on his chin tickles your skin. You cup it, gently pushing him away with a giggle.Â
âForget to pack a razor in your bag, Dr. Reid?â Your voice is teasing, more playful than seductive.
He chuckles, airily, hiding his groan. He knows youâre being sarcastic, but the use of his title, with your voice in this context, catches him off guard. You moan as you feel his growing bulge against your heat when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you into his kiss. You swiftly undo the clasp of your bra, but before you can take it off, Spencer grabs you from just below the hips and lifts you up off him, gently laying you down on the seat of the couch.Â
Thereâs no room for hesitation as his lips find your neck again and he nips at the skin. Every suckle earns him short gasps and the grip in his hair tightens as he travels lower. He stops just above your breast, pulling himself up to sit on his knees. You stare up at him with a heated gaze, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth with your lips parted to make up for the loss of his lips.Â
He reaches for your bra strap and begins pulling slowly, searching your eyes for any signs of you withdrawing consent. All he sees is how beautifully they sparkle when you give him a light nod. Itâs been too long since heâs seen the stars that you hold in your eyes, stars he accustomed himself to before he even got to properly know you.Â
Gazing into his eyes, youâve never felt more sure, more safe. You trust him implicitly and youâve never wanted anything more. His constant need to make sure you're comfortable sends shivers down to your core. He slides the garment off you and Spencerâs beyond grateful that heâs already on his knees, knowing that if he was standing heâd fall to them because of the sight below him.Â
His eyes donât falter once, heâs trying to permanently etch this moment into his brain. He hovers his fingers above your body, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple and you softly whine. He looks awestruck, almost like he doesnât believe whatâs happening. You canât help but wonder if he thinks your boobs look weird.Â
âBeautiful.â The words fall out of his mouth in a whisper, as if on cue. Heâs really just thinking out loud.
Before you can respond he lowers down and plants a small peck to your sensitive nub before taking it into his mouth. You gasp again, head lolling back in pleasure. One of your hands goes for his hair, while the other clings to his hand thatâs already holding yours. He switches between sucking, pulling and squeezing; rolling it between his tongue and uses his teeth to squeeze ever so slightly.
âSâspencer.â A strangled moan falls from your lips.Â
You tug his hair, whining and moaning as your hips roll against the strain in his pants. When your motions become continuous, he lets out his own strained groan and is forced to release your nipple with a small âpopâ.Â
âAngel, I really need you to stop doing that.â He murmurs in your ear with a gentle, gravelly tone.
As soon as the nickname reaches your ears your hips involuntarily buck up again, making his hips automatically push down against yours. His cock presses against your core and you both moan, his head falling against your shoulder.
âSpence, more.â You quietly whine in against his ear. âI need more.âÂ
âMore?â He echoes back, turning his head so that your lips brush past each other when speaking.Â
âMhm.â You nod weakly as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and weakly connects his lips with yours.
Even when heâs got you vulnerable and at your most compromised, heâs still as gentle as ever. You donât feel him undo your pants or sneak his hand in them, but you definitely feel him press the pads of his fingers against your clothed clit. Air escapes through your nose in a huff of surprise and you hum in his mouth, hips jolting at his touch. He can feel your slickness through your underwear.Â
âOh, my pretty girl.â He sighs, breaking the kiss and directing his whispers in your ear again. âAll wet for me?â
âPlease..â Even with your broken whimper you beg him for more.Â
âLike this?â His deft fingers swipe your panties to the side, fingers landing directly on the clit this time.Â
They feel cold at first. The contrast against your heated body makes you squirm and you groan in a soft, high pitch.Â
âWhat are you feeling right now?â He pries a verbal response from you, circling your bud lightly. âTell me.â
âGood.â You sigh, eyes shut as you try to savour the pleasure.Â
âGood?â His voice is still soft against your ear.
âMhm.â You nod, one arm draping against his shoulder and the other hand running along his scruffy jaw. âSo good.âÂ
âAnd this?â He adds pressure to his movements. âDoes this feel good?â
Your hips buck again and he feels rewarded when you moan. Thereâs no doubt that the sound of your voice is his favourite. He especially loves it when itâs directed at him. Whether that be in the form of a laugh or your sweet moans. It makes him somewhat dizzy. His lips attach to the skin just under your jaw in an attempt to coax more.Â
Itâs very effective. Fingers working your bundle of nerves, circling and flicking while changing the pressure, and mouth kissing and sucking near your pulse. It makes your back arch, hand gripping his shoulder so you donât float away. Heâs careful not to leave any purple traces of him on your neck, mindful of you being bombarded with questions from your colleagues. Â
âI love how reactive you are, Angel. You sound divineâ fuck.â He canât help the grunt that escapes him. âYou are divine.â
His touch alone is enough to make you feel electric, but the sweet nothings heâs whispering in your ear will be what send you over the edge. Itâs a foreign feeling, being reminded that he values you for more than just your body. Just under an hour ago you had incredibly high walls built around you and none of them are left standing as you exposed under him.
Spencerâs not the first man to touch you, but he is the first that loves you. Itâs something youâre not at all used to and it feels as overwhelming as it does good. It transcends the want, no, the need for the man on top of you beyond lust or love. You plan to show him just how strong that need is tonight.Â
The carpeted floor is littered with your clothes, carelessly thrown around and tiny chess pieces scattered around the abandoned chess board. Spencerâs comfortably lying on the couch, facing the ceiling and youâre lying directly on top of him with your face buried in his neck.Â
You run your fingers back and forth along his jaw, scratching his beard in slow streaks. Heâs enveloped you in his arms, one around your lower back and the other playing with your hair. It doesnât feel as peaceful as it seems, both of you are afraid of being the first to speak. You know you canât stay like this forever and you decide to bite the bullet.Â
âSpencer?âÂ
You only get silence from his end. You know heâs awake because his motions in your hair donât stop. You push yourself up to face him, trying to study his face. The sudden movement brings him back from wherever he was zoned out to.Â
âHm?â His features jump.
Does he regret it?
âWhatâs wrong?â Your voice shakes from worry. âYou have this look on your face.âÂ
âNothingâs wrong. Iâm just thinking.âÂ
âAboutâŠ?âÂ
âHow bad we are at communicating.â He chuckles. âItâs concerning when you think about how all we ever do is talk.âÂ
Hearing this makes you snort and you fall into him again. It sends both of you into a short fit of laughter.Â
âOh thatâs promising for the success of this relationship.â You giggle, sarcasm evident.Â
Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply.Â
âSo youâre staying?âÂ
âWell obviously, Dingbat.â You scoff playfully at the question and shift upright, straddling him. âBut we really do need to get better at the communication thing for this to work.â
Spencer mounts his weight on his hands by either side of him and pushes himself up to you, stealing a deep kiss.Â
âYes, we absolutely do.â He whispers, breaking away for only a second.Â
The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses.Â
âSpencer, Iâmâ serious.â You voice in between, loosely draping your arms on his shoulders.Â
âI am too.â He says in a hushed tone as he pulls away.Â
âI want to take itâ this,â you motion between the two of you with your finger, âus, slow. Not four years slow, but, like, by a couple of months at the very least.â
âOkay.â He agrees, his eyes scouring your face with complete adoration. Itâs not ideal, but he understands where youâre coming from.Â
âThat means that we start again. Romantically. We have to talk about a lot of things first.âÂ
He shifts his body out from under you, resting his back properly against the couch and pulls you back into his lap in one swift motion. Both of his hands graze from your shoulder to your wrist.
âHow aboutâŠyou come over this weekend,â He suggests, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug, âweâll do snacks, a movie, maybe an actual game of chess.âÂ
âThat sounds like a date.â You wrap your arms around his neck to return the gesture and lean your forehead against his.Â
âItâs not a date. Not yet, anyways.â He whispers. âIâm asking you to come over this weekend so we can talk about things properly, because frankly, I donât think either of us is in the right headspace for it right now.âÂ
âShould I be offended at that?â You giggle, not entirely sure what heâs alluding to.Â
âNo!â He snorts with a high tone. âDopamine aside, our Norepinephrine and Serotonin levels are too high right now for us to have a proper conversation about this.âÂ
âIâm not saying that youâre wrong, because youâre not, but I also think youâre just using science to try and confuse me, so that I agree to wherever this speech is heading.âÂ
âItâs times like this where your attentiveness puts me at a disadvantage, because this tactic has a hundred percent success rate on everybody else.â He grins and you chuckle, both leaning in for another kiss.Â
âCan we hold off on starting over? Just for tonight.â He reluctantly voices, not wanting to push any boundaries.Â
You draw back and raise your eyebrows with your eyes widened.Â
âSpence, I have waited for years for this. Youâre insane if you think Iâm giving that up without relishing in it for at least a night. Weâre not starting over until weâre both officially back on the clock.âÂ
âOkay.â He heaves from relief, leaning in for another kiss, but quickly withdraws with a new question. âDonât you think the teamâs going to be suspicious when weâre not fighting tomorrow?â
âForget them, what am I gonna say to Hotch when I ask to withdraw my resignation?â You huff out a tiny groan. âHeâs gonna hate me for all this paperwork.â
Paperwork reminds you why youâre here to begin with. You audibly gasp, jumping off Spencer and scrambling to put your clothes back on.Â
âFuck! Spencer, get dressed!âÂ
Spencer doesnât share your panic, but adheres to your demand. You mutter a continuous line of obscenities as you throw on your clothes and when you donât seem to be getting calmer, he intervenes.Â
âHey, hey, hey!â He coos as he steps towards you, still undressed on the upper-half. âWhatâs wrong?â
âWhatâs wrong is that weâve been here for hours!â You shriek, now fully dressed.Â
You push past Spencer and grab his shirt, deciding that he was too slow on his own. He lets you dress him as he probes further.Â
âThatâs okay. No oneâs going to notice this late.âÂ
âNoâ Spenceââ You sigh, throwing your head back. âIn less than four hours, Hotch is going to walk into his office expecting the Anchorage report on his desk. Iâve barely been able to get half of it done in weeks, how am I going to finish it in four hours?â
You shake your head and begin working on his buttons. He grabs your wrists, urging you to look at him.Â
âYouâll have it done in less than one. Iâll help you!â His voice is light, airy, soft and accompanied with a chuckle.
âSpencer, youâve already been here later than you need to be. Itâs okayââ
âLet me help you.â He resorts to pleading, releasing your wrists and cupping your face.
You donât have it in you to argue, his eyes staring back at you with sincerity. He wants to help. Thereâs no point in pushing him away, because as scared as you are about being too vulnerable with your trauma from that case, you trust him wholeheartedly. You know he wonât push for more than what you choose to share right now.
âOkay.â You nod and smile into the kiss he leans in for after the confirmation.Â
âOkay. Now, you go and start some coffee.â he instructs softly with a wide grin, waving to the scattered chess ensemble. â Iâm going to clean up here and join you.â
âI love you!â You lean for another kiss and hushedly exclaim as you break away, receding towards the door.Â
Itâs Spencerâs turn to lose his breath. Heâs affirmed his love for you countless times tonight and this is the first time youâve verbally reciprocated it. He knows that it wonât be the last time either. That, to him, makes him the luckiest man in the world. He stops you from going any further by your arm and gently yanks you in his direction, crashing his lips with yours.Â
âI love you too.â He whispers after the kiss, letting you go.Â
Heat rises in your face again and you struggle to hide a huge dopey smile, one that Spencer has too. Youâre floating on cloud nine, finally out of the blurry hurricane youâve endured for months. Thereâs still a lot of things that you need to work out, but the thought of them doesnât make you feel dread like it once did.Â
"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love." - Socrates
Spoilers: Yapperoni (so much dialog in this chapter), BAU! Reader, enemies (kinda) to lovers, hurt, comfort, love confessions (they might be a little too sappy, idk, I was sleep deprived), the praise made me giddy at some point, smut but I edge you by not writing out everything, happy ending.
AN - I have a little tiny fear that people (me) will nawt (I donât) fuck with this monstrosity, but out of all my drafts, this felt like the most natural course of action. I thought it would be really fun to go from friends to enemies to lovers. Now, literally nobody talk to me about writing fics after this. Uniâs started, so Iâll be very inconsistent for a bit. Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I donât have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.
A comment today keeps semicolon away (from showing up to your house and eating all your snacks).
Thank you for reading!
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom#ssa spencer reid#bau team#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#angst fic#criminal minds angst#spencer reid x fem!reader#fem!reader#dr spencer reid#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut#smut#smut fic#the smut doesn't occur all the way#; fics
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I want to write angst but I don't want to break my heart đ„č
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What if I told you that RoobrickMarine went and wrote an entire novella starring my 16th century dog couple? It's very canon-adjacent, well researched and thoughtfully put together, has inspired me a ton during these past months and it's now publicly available at AO3. I highly recommend it.
⊠Separation âŠ
#content warnings for sex violence self harm and general angst#six chapters 41K words#people who have asked for longer stories of these two please give this one a look#I've watched this unfold since late may? early july? and it's been an exciting experience#I'm not a writer I think it's better than what I could've come up with#honestly though the way he managed to get inside Machete's and Vasco's heads was uncanny their mannerisms and thought processes are spot on#some of the events aren't canon but they might as well be#and most of the background details and backstory tidbits are accurate believe me he's very well versed on their lore#big history nerd so the worldbuilding is intense#you get to meet the dog pope#there's saint sebastian#roommate hijinks#it gets kind of bleak at times though so be mindful of that#it's not all fluff and good feelings#Separation#Heinaven#RoobrickMarine#own characters#own art#artists on tumblr#CanisAlbus#Vasco#Machete#anthro#sighthound#dogs#canine#animals#if you end up reading the whole thing it would be really sweet if you left a little comment as a thanks for his hard work
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