#but also lovesick gun is adorable

[heretherebedork]

Did we not get Pitch's actor to come and film the finale episode? Like, is that why he's missing? What is going on?

[la2yn0va]

Girlfriend Rappa Headcanons

(I’m on 60 pity, I’m pulling for her, trust)

~~~~

Whenever she’d visit you, EVERYONE would know, as she spray paint on a large building ‘I LOVE YOU!!’ or ‘IM BACK BABYGIRL!!’

She definitely walks into your home/presence rapping as a way to great you. Once she’s done you always respond with the most monotone ‘Hello babe’

Rappa would teach you ninjutsu, and how to graffiti as a date. Which is the most laxed date with her.

The high energy date is taking you off planet and making you watch as she takes out bad guys while rapping, doing every dance move to impress you.

Normal dates are going out to a nightclub where she’d somehow be the DJ and get everyone pumped up while keeping you close. Or teaching you how to skateboard.

Rappa definitely puts some of her clothes on you or in your wardrobe, just to see how adorable you’d look.

She gives you multiple Ninja weapons for you to defend yourself with. She won’t allow any other weapon that isn’t given to you by her.

Rappa also gives you a gun or holographic phone to signal for her help if you’re in danger. Along with her hat and her jacket thats your size.

Rappa’s the type to get offended for you.

Rappa leaves at least 26 kisses on you before she leaves.

Rappa makes a whole rap album for you, and just for you.

If you want to stay on your planet, She’d beg you to come travel with her permanently.

She always leaves your planet after graffitiing a picture of her and you making out, which makes you stay inside for a week or two out of embarrassment.

Rappa’s holographic glasses MIIIIGHT have a feature where she sees you shirtless.

You’d try to set up a casual date, but she would always SOMEHOW make it chaotic. Along with coming back a week later with her OWN casual date.

She’d proudly talk Boothill’s head off about how amazing you are, and he’d just listen happy at rappa’s lovesick yet cute childish rambling. He’d also get a little sad because of his own love life situation.

Boothill does come hang out with you and rappa. Boothill would also threaten you. ‘If you break her heart, I’ll break yer fudgin body!’ Before laughing it off.

Rappa ALWAYS carries you, but whenever she’s tired or feeling sad, you’d give her a piggyback ride.

Rappa would be the type to take off her head and put it on your, low enough to block your eyesight when she’s pissed at someone and is about to brutalize them.

-Done-

[heretyc]

Yandere franco hcs? Maybe?? Pretty please?

Also happy new years!! :3 hope urs is going good

BLESS YOU. I'M ALREADY SALIVATING. And you as well! It's going lit so far C: colds suck but I'm not letting my body tear my year down already rofl. There's mentions of NSFW [and some fucked up shit] so these are under the cut.

So right off the bat, I think Franco's a yandere already. By default he's an obsessive man who will shoot people who dare go near you. His voice lines with Gooseberry? UGHHHH. Literal proof. [I underlined the best ones.]

HE'LL RIP A MAN'S LUNGS OUT FOR YOU. DEDICATION. Let's also not forget he calls you "mommy" and implies that he wants to "crawl inside of you" [be close to you].

Barbi rarely has any trials to begin with, so if you enter one with him in it, he WILL follow you around as much as he can.

If you're in his trial on the docks and you wake him up, he'll get pissy until he realizes it's you that pressed the button. Instead of threatening you about a...cookie jar, he'll happily shoot the two men and claim "he's on his way, sweetness".

He won't use Lupara on you unless it's to scare you. He wants to make it known that he's your biggest threat and your saviour at the same time.

If you don't notice him [or give him any thought], he gets pissed off. SO pissed off, that he shoots an ex-pop. Or all of them. After all, if there's none left in the trial...you'll have to notice him, right?

He'll lay things around for you to use; he wants you to rely on him to live. You're his oxygen and his blood, he wants to be the same for you.

Barbi's lost a lot of things in his life; his mother, Angelina, his father, his life in Louisiana and Cuba, his fortunes...he's not letting you out of his grasp. Not if he can help it. And because Murkoff is supportive of his delusions, they'll help him achieve his goal of having you all to himself.

Pleasure the Prosecutor is a totally different trial; he'll happily look up at you as he's masturbating and say he was thinking of you. Making yourself known in these trials is pretty much inevitable, and once he knows you're there with him, he'll be on your tail in no time.

Moans of pain make him hard; he'll want to both help you and jack off onto your wounds. He loves your holes and your exit wounds.

He's so dedicated, that he's even carved your initials into the barrel of his Lupara. You can't say he isn't lovesick...

He'll definitely disarm any traps that put you in harm's way; either that, or he'll alter them to trap you without harming you.

Placing drugs into the mules becomes incredibly awkward after he locates you; he'll lovingly put his hand over yours as he directs the saw into the man's chest, "Down the road...that's it," he'd coo, staring at you with an expression that could be described as "crazed adoration. You'll be coated in blood by the time you're both finished, and he'll go mad, "After my own heart, are you, rabbit?"

Just, um...don't mention Coyle around him. Prime assets are important to therapies, and Murkoff can't afford to lose the corrupt officer to a few gun wounds.

[asachuu]

Rising from my grave to inform you all that I legitimately do not understand this “Arthur is forcefully, obsessively in love with Paul” claim/trope I’ve seen a couple of times over the years and I quite frankly don’t know where exactly it originated, but it’s just…a bit confusing, at the very least.

I don’t dispute that Arthur may have very well been in love with Paul and quite deeply so, far from, but some people speak of him as if he were this yandere stereotype in canon (AUs are AUs and those I am not talking about here), and I’m not certain of the context behind it? I can only perhaps think of the line in Stormbringer in which he swears to bring Paul back home no matter what, but that’s a stand-alone line he says on a mission during which his most trusted partner betrays him, and all other implied interactions between the two lead me to believe that Arthur is really just this shy, lonely 15-19 year old— see Arthur’s whole memoir claiming he wasn’t allowed to have any personal relationships, his supposed canonical age at the time, Paul’s recollection in the epilogue of Arthur “shyly” handing him over his gift, and speaking of said gift; Arthur’s uncertainty of whether giving it was the right thing to do, plus his worry about it over a decade later in his final moments— not this forceful, deranged maniac so far blinded by love to a point of thinking himself to have some kind of ownership over his partner. I suppose you could point to Arthur’s second death being only for Paul’s sake and nothing else, a self-sacrificial act that doubtlessly paints him as someone who most definitely cares about his partner far more than he should, but get this— he himself claims he’s already dead, and Paul was the only person he’d been allowed to care for, to look after, to stay beside and so on, not to mention he doesn’t see himself as anything of importance anyway— claiming no one will remember him after his death and he’ll only get an unmarked tombstone doesn’t invoke anything else, really— so I don’t think he’d take it as something of the same exact magnitude that it must have had in Paul’s eyes, and besides, he’s never seen it as something for Paul to constantly remember him for after his death to haunt him, for instance; it was only an act of saving his life to make up for a birthday gift he didn’t like, or so Arthur himself claims.

I certainly don’t doubt Arthur’s adoration and evident self-deprecation being horribly unhealthy, it definitely is and I haven’t written an essay on it just to claim otherwise, but there’s nothing pointing to him being anyhow forceful, possessive, completely dismissive of personal boundaries, rather the opposite— the man quite literally, canonically worries whether giving Paul a gift was the right thing to do, considering he wasn’t anyhow appreciated for it, and in not a single sentence is it implied he thinks of himself as having some kind of ownership over Paul beyond having raised him and given him a life— which, might I also add, he says as Paul points a gun at him with the intention of killing him, something which he doesn’t even hold against him a single time. In very simple terms, if I am to summarize it, I’d say Arthur is more of an extreme doormat personality, someone who doubtlessly puts his partner on a pedestal while thinking of himself as nowhere near, and although that’s nowhere close to behavior which should be rooted for, he’s certainly not some lovesick madman who is entirely oblivious to how much he’s overstepping— while it is true that Paul doesn’t appreciate his care for him or his attempts at comforting him whatsoever, that’s just…not a display of obsessive love on Arthur’s part? I’m not entirely certain on how to explain it to get the point across, but there’s a huge difference between wanting to comfort the dearest person to you, even if they despise it like Paul did, and showering them with unwanted affection, being possessive over them and whatnot.

Besides, Arthur has not once expected a thing in return for his actions throughout both novels— he’s never claimed he wants Paul’s gratitude, appreciation, love, anything, or that he’d feel anyhow entitled to it, perhaps even that he’d wind up getting his way someday if he continued, or any other such thing that this trope very often comes with. All of Arthur’s actions have never been to gain anything from Paul, and that’s clear from his memoir alone— if there’s one thing he actually wanted, it was to have someone to care for, someone to matter to, but that wasn’t something he was forcing Paul to show in any way, that was what he’d already felt he achieved from the start, most likely because he couldn’t have had any other frame of reference. There was nothing he ever wanted to force Paul to do, and if anything, what he saw Paul as was a human being of his own, not something which ultimately belonged to him in any way, shape or form, or someone who was indebted to him for all Arthur had done for him.

All that to say, this is just a short post against blatant mischaracterization, not against AUs, as I said. I admit the AU concept itself is very much not my thing either, but my personal opinion is obviously not the opinion of everyone else, and if that’s what you enjoy creating content for, feel free to go for it— just please don’t claim it’s actually canon. That’s all.

[capricornrisingsstuff]

This is a prompt from @oneforthemunny summer game! I’ve never written fanfic before and adore @oneforthemunny ‘s writing, so I asked for a prompt and chose this one :)

Prompt: 👙 mafia!Eddie: you need a new swimsuit and mafia!eddie is more than happy to go shopping with you…

Contains: MDNI, sub/dom reader dynamics/light slapping/female reader/descriptions of female anatomy (reader)/mentions of weapons- please lmk if I’ve missed anything!

You looked across the vast size of an empty Starcourt Mall with utter amusement. The sense of amazement had dissipated, you were so used to perusing empty buildings with Eddie. The amusement would always be present in times like this; you still couldn’t quite believe that your boyfriend had the capacity to shut down whole buildings, restaurants, arcades, you name it; with a simple flick of his Italian leather wallet, a winning smile and a gun on his hip.

Steve had called Eddie on his secret office phone a few days prior, informing you both that he and the “shrimps” were having a pool party at his house and if Eddie was feeling domesticated enough to come. Eddie said yes, with the installation of a new CCT system and an undercover guy on every door of the Harrington household, he gave you the green light to also attend. You were excited at the prospect of being “normal” with your boyfriend for the afternoon (minus the signing of NDA contracts everyone had to succumb to who attended, however there was one small obstacle. You didn’t own a swimsuit. That was thrown away when you were packing up for your move to Hawkins and your sensible bank job. Never in your life did you think you would be running in the same circles as people who did fun things, socialised and had a good time.

This is how you found yourself in Starcourt, with Eddie at your side, pinky fingers entwined as you strolled the stores. The mall music still playing mixed with the smells of your favourite food parlours Eddie paid handsomely to stay open “incase you need a shopping snack”. “I think I’ll go to the new lingerie boutique that’s just opened, they sell cute little one pieces” you turned to Eddie as you dragged him along the concourse. You were trying to be excited and you knew Eddie worshipped you but…you’ve never been so “naked” in front of other people before. No one apart from Eddie has seen your naked thighs or tummy and even then, you convinced him you needed to be naked in the lowest of light or completely in the dark (your personal preference).

As you entered the store, the petite sales assistant, with auburn hair and a porcelain complexion behind the counter gave you a dazzling pink lipsticked smile. Her face was catlike, straight off the runway, with her red talon nails clicking on the keyboard of the computer in front of her. You nervously smiled back, wondering if the store would cater for someone with such an ample cleavage and thighs like yours. As you scanned the racks of string bikinis, thongs, one pieces with barely anything there to cover your ass, your face reddened as you let out a huff of disappointment.

Picking up on your fussiness, Eddie kissed your hairline, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Can you not find a colour you like? If they don’t have the shade of purple I know you like, I can have it shipped in for tomorrow”. You smiled as you turned in your boyfriend’s arms, looking up at those lovesick umber eyes of his. “The colours are perfect honey, it’s just…me. I’ve never shown my body even in a one piece before out in public and I know I don’t look like her” as you glanced towards the waif-like looking sales assistant; who was currently strutting around the store putting away stock like she was setting up for the latest runway photo shoot.

Eddie hooked his finger under your chin and turned your face towards his, the fingers of his other hand trailing across the rack of one pieces. “Sweetheart”, he muttered in your ear as he pulled a little red number off of the rack, “if you don’t get into this one piece right now and push up those pretty tits of yours, I’ll spank you into next week; I’ll do it in the middle of the mall if I have to”. Your thighs unconsciously rubbed together at his dominance. He knew exactly how to get you into that confident headspace you never could on your own.

As the mall was totally devoid of customers and the only shop assistants on shift were at Eddie’s discretion (plus his security), Eddie stalked his way into the fitting room behind you, pulling the curtain back with a yank. You wasted no time in stripping from your clothes and stepping into the red Lycra- something highly reminiscent of Pamela Anderson running sexily along a California beach. Before you could even pull up the straps, ringed fingers were under them, smoothing the straps to your shoulders.

Eddie looked over your shoulder at you in the mirror, umber eyes blown black, as those ringed fingers made their way under the material of the swimsuit; grazing your chest and lightly fingering the swell of your ample cleavage.

“See sweetheart, who needs a sales assistant when you have one right here?” Eddie smirked as you let out the small whine that was brewing in the back of your throat. Your boyfriend always had the ability to turn you into a wet, whimpering, mess before he had even touched you. “Gotta make sure it fits in all of the right places princess, you can’t be going around in clothes that don’t fit”. Suddenly, the side of your face met the wall of the fitting room, as Eddie turned you by your hips and pushed you against it; his black leather boots gently pushing your ankles to each side so your legs were spread just right for him. “I don’t want people thinking that I don’t take care of my girl and pay attention to her needs do I?” He whispered in your ear as his mouth made its way to the crook of your neck. “I don’t think they have a tape measure in here sweetheart, so I guess my fingers will have to do” .

All you could feel in that moment was your nipples against the cold wall, hardening at Eddie’s touch as he pulled your swimsuit to the side around your already clenching pussy. “I wonder if this swimsuit is as waterproof as it claims it is” Eddie mused in a mocking tone, his fingers splayed across your cunt, his ring finger dipping into your wetness. “My, my sweetheart, you’re giving the material a test run already; you’re soaked. Is this just for me?” You let out a muffled moan, your eyes rolling back as Eddie playfully slapped your ass “use your words princess, otherwise daddy won’t buy you what you want, my little slut getting all needy and wet for daddy in public”. “Yes daddy”, you whined, breath hitching with each finger added into your dripping cunt, “it’s for you, always for you”.

“I thought so honey…now I’ll strip this suit off of you, put it in my back pocket and you’ll get a new one off the rack okay?” You nodded all wide eyed as your boyfriend talked down to you. “Take my card to the register and be a good girl while I think of ways to punish your fuckin’ bratty attitude. Daddy doesn’t tolerate brats”.

Eddie’s tongue licked your bottom lip as you pulled the suit down your chest; the moans and thumps coming from the fitting room remained unquestioned-the store would remain open all night if necessary.

[itgirlgyu]

Your moots as weapons!! (knives, guns, blades anything) No to violence, just for fun ;)

ALRIGHT LET'S GO!!!

@itz-yerin — death note.

at first i was like only for shits and giggles. but death note actually fits yerin like you'd never guess its ability until you wield it. also can provide you such great power but with a catch.

@full-sunnies — nunchucks.

makes people hella humbled while feeling like someone replaced their spine with electrical eel.

@huen-ingkai — russian roulette gun.

you'll never guess when they will go off.

@gyuletters — a toddler level of blatant honesty and a pepper spray.

star the type to attack you with fact bombs and make you cry to your mom but also pepper spray for the spicy days.

@channoticedmeuwu — laxatives.

often overlooked but kai kinda gives me this vibe that she'd be an unconventional weapon that may look harmless but will fuck you up.

@st4rrykai — those barbed baseball bats with irons pins on it.

and she decorates them with cute stickers!!! so the last thing before you get fucked up you see hello kitty.

@mazeinthemoon — steel fans.

its like so elegant and they get the job done pretty efficiently, feel like it would fit moon a lot.

@beomurang — wooden hammers.

like not very heavy ones but the ones jeonghan carry, like just enough to knock a few teeth out!

@cherrypeaking - poison.

like those fancy sexy women in periodical dramas use to kill nasty men

@1004tyun — one punch man's punch

crystal has this rizz that is undeniable in my hand but can be conveyed by a video of someone getting punched by one punch man.

@ox1-lovesick — medieval wrecking balls.

always swinging and hitting everyone in the face unprovoked.

@banggyu0308 — shurikens.

cute, precise and undeniably cool.

@harufluff—30 hours of hyuka's reverbed laughter in noise cancelling earphone on full volume.

will make you think like hahaha so lame... wait until the 13th hour passes.

@hyewka— wet towels.

rana's fics hit me like a wet towel in the face, and i love every second of it!

@majestyjun- booby traps.

will catch you on their blog and never let you go because holy shit their brain is >

@jisungsdaydreamer— jisung's predebut videos and audios.

let's be honest jisung's predebut content is cringe enough to kill one small adult, or two.

@fairyofshampgyu—electrical saw.

nia reminds me of beomgyu and beomgyu reminds me of his motor mouth which makes a similar sound to electrical saw—yes this correlation makes sense.

@strawberry-kirby—pillows.

suffocates you with her cuteness and kindness!!

@tyunlatte—a curse to sneeze every second of the day.

ive only interacted with them once but they are so nice and exuberant like a sneeze ( as everyone knows it's impossible to say acchoo without looking absolute adorable.)

@pressthehurtbutton — vile of virus that could end the world.

IDK WHY BUR I LIKE GET SCIENTIST VIBES FROM THEM BUT LIKE THINK,, doofensmirtz bajs

THIS TOOK ME SO LONG FOR NO REASON?!?

[bengiyo]

My School President Ep 3 Stray Thoughts

This show is giving me everything I wanted folks to get out of Lovesick the series. Last week we switched to Tinn's perspective and learned that he's just a nerd suffering from benign neglect that fell in love with a pretty boy with a nice voice that was kind to him once. We also learned that Tinn has unsuccessfully attempted to confess his feelings repeatedly for years. I love Tinn.

Now, after spending a whole episode anonymously helping the music club procure replacement instruments, he's committed himself officially to seeing Gun succeed in this competition in the hopes that maybe they'll date.

Gemini and Mark are fun together. Tinn is such a simp and it's endearing.

"When did he get here?" - "A while ago."

I like the scale of the villain of the current principal. She wants to cancel troublesome clubs, and I think demanding that slacker students perform academically isn't necessarily an unreasonable request of students who want permission to represent the school in a public competition.

We should be seriously concerned that the school building has a termite intrusion.

Holy hell they're so dense.

These marble tables are giving me Make It Right flashbacks.

Tinn's fantasies being consistently ruined by reality is actually such an important subversive creative choice. As fun and adorable as this all is, I'm glad young viewers are being subtly reminded that your fantasies will not always align with reality. Tiw reminding Tinn to focus on helping his crush is *chef's kiss*.

I love Tiw with my entire being. We haven't had a wingman this committed in a long time. He might be a winner for the NAMGOONG BEST BOY AWARD for 2022. I'm glad the rest of the music club affirmed that Tinn is a good tutor, but Gun has specific challenges with math.

I also like the fantasy sequences not only because they reveal how ridiculous and adorable Tinn is, it allows Gemini and Fourth to have more fun interactions before they get together.

Okay, but I actually think it's awesome that Tinn's parents still are attracted to each other and can express that in front of Tinn. That Tinn only laughs about it means this is normal for him.

This apartment does seem very nice.

Not sure why they don't just share the bed.

And now we're ballroom dancing. Tinn's going to implode.

Did Tiw suggest he watch Bad Buddy to flirt, and then diss Ohm and Nanon to highlight Mark (his actor) while the Bad Buddy intro theme played? Yes he did, and I am losing it.

Scrubb is actually good, so I totally get the fantasy about "Close."

They always seem to have fun with these Canon ads.

Tinn's dad is the hero we needed when we needed him.

I'm all for baby gays being delusional about their crushes, but not when it comes to knife safety.

I do like the joke about how silly "baby is a messy eater" is as a trope.

They all passed! I wonder if we'll get a side couple out of Tiw?

Fourth is really charming. Gun's appeal is plain in this pool scene.

Hey, Tinn's first attempt at flirtation! He didn't cover it with a "just kidding" either.

One of the benefits of the last episode was showing that Gun isn't totally oblivious if someone is making active choices. So, when Gun suggests that Tinn join him on the bed, I can't help but wonder if that's a bit of curiosity from the poolside hint of a confession and the nervousness about dancing.

I love this dancing fantasy. Really a lovely sequence.

Well well well, looks like Gun is starting to fall, too.

Ahh, it's time for third party complications next week.

[goldengoddess]

Could I possibly request a Jesper Fahey headcanon of sweet moments with him as your boyfriend inbetween, heists or other jobs? I feel like he’d be the sweetest funniest boyfriend ever tho 🥺🥺 Thanks in advance dear

a/n: my favorite boy jesper!!! this one is short but <3

warnings: knives, heist stuff

heists are always fun with jesper

how couldn't they be

that boy had enough energy to make anything fun

even putting yourself in mortal danger

but heists with jesper were your favorite for a different reason too

he was a total sweetheart before a heist

all lovesick and worried for you

he would linger in your room until you were ready to go

get the right shoes that you needed for that particular job

he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist

while you were fixing your hair in the mirror

he’d bury his face in your neck

mumbling about something

“what was that jes?”

he could leave a sweet kiss on your sweet spot and then look up at you

making eye contact through the mirror

“you look hot getting ready for a heist, but more importantly be safe tonight.”

you’d blush and leave a quick kiss on his cheek

“always am”

during whatever job, jesper was always the most interesting partner

especially on undercover missions

for example that one time the two of you were dressed as grisha to draw out a grisha hunter

you were wearing a red kefta and jesper, of course, wore a purple one

“you know what babe, i think purple is my colour”

you’d roll your eyes and flick him in the arm

“ouch, fine maybe it isn’t but red is totally yours”

the fast-paced jobs also brought their own excitement

jesper was even more adorable when people were shooting at him

he thrived off danger

one time the both of you were running together, doing your best to outrun the scary man with a bunch of knives chasing you

when jesper grabbed your wrist and pulled you into an ally

he pushed you behind a garbage can and covered your mouth with his hand

when the target ran past the two of you

you both let out a simultaneous sigh of relief

then he grinned at you

way too wide for someone who had just escaped near death

“what” you had asked

he grinned wider (somehow)

“nothing. you just look all pretty.”

jesper was the king of giving compliments when the situation didn’t warrant them

like the “hey baby! your face looks super kissable right now” as you held a knife to a man's throat

or “i like your hair that way” as you climbed up the side of a building behind him

and the best of all “your scheming face looks exactly like kaz’s and im worried that i’m attracted to you right now”

his comments made heists less serious

and that’s not even mentioning his inappropriate comments

sometimes, when there was a moment of peace between the action

he’d grab your hand

and kiss each of your knuckles

before grinning at you

and wiping out his prized guns

running into the action

after the heists

you were always giddy

those were the moments you most matched jesper’s energy

the adrenaline was pumping through you

and you felt like you could run a marathon

“god! jesper! did you see that landing i nailed? or when i snuck up on that one guy with the red scarf? did you see me?”

in those moments jesper was the calm one

he’d laughed and tossed his arm around your shoulder

“yes love, i saw all your moves”

this one time he pulled a scone out of his pocket

as you walked back to the slat after a tiring job

you looked at him suspiciously

he put his hands up in mock surrender

“what! i paid for it”

another sceptical look

“okay i kind of paid for it”

you had rolled your eyes but taken the scone anyways

being a part of the crows wasn’t so bad when you were dating jesper

[goddesswritings]

“Can I slap her for you?” -  Corpse Husband | Part Two

Title: “Can I slap her for you?” – Part Two

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader

Summary: Being stuck living with the queen of YouTube drama and partying during the pandemic has seriously worn down your patience. Meeting Pokimane has changed your life for the better, making Among Us a pivotal part of your life.

Word Count: 5.2k

Unedited for now. I was eager to post. I will edit it later.

Corpse Masterlist

********

<< PART ONE

After you left the apartment, you sat in the parking lot of some random store, trying to decide what to do now. Sighing, you opened your phone and went to Instagram. Corpse was probably wondering if it went okay.

Corpse: She left the stream, thank you!

Corpse: What exactly did you do?

Corpse: She’s sending Sean angry DM’s now.

Corpse: Hey, are you okay?

Y/n: Hey sorry, I had to pack. I’m fine, happy to help get her out of the stream. I switched off the power to her office.

Honestly, you wished you could have stood up against her more often than you did. She was four years younger, so you should have been able to have the say in things. But no, Olivia was a control freak and a spoiled brat too. She would no doubt tell your parents you started a fight with her, and she felt unsafe.

Corpse: Wow, you’re badass. Packing for what?

Y/n: Um, she may have kicked me out of the apartment, and I may have left without a fight because I’m tired of her shit. 🤷‍♀️

Corpse: Do you have a place to stay?

Of course you didn’t and you really should have thought about that before just leaving the way you did.

Y/n: Not really but I will find somewhere.

Well you hoped you could. There weren’t many people who were keen in taking in a friend during a pandemic.

Corpse: Poki’s going to call you.

At that message, your phone started to wring and sure enough, it was Poki.

“Hello?” You asked hesitantly.

“So someone let it slip that your sister kicked you out?” Poki said calmly.

“Is that someone, Corpse?”

“Yes, he said it out of shock but I’m glad he did. Knowing you, you would have kept it a secret from me.” She was right. You hated inconveniencing your friends.

“Damn you, Corpse.” You muttered making her laugh. “Yeah so I ruined Olivia’s stream and she started screaming at me before kicking me out. I didn’t fight it because I am tired of her.”

“Understandable. Well do you need somewhere to stay?”

“Yes but I will find some place.”

“Nope, you’re staying with me. Come over now or I am coming out to drag you back to my place.” Her protectiveness made you smile.

“Sure, I’ll be there in a few.” You hung up.

Y/n: Thank you for looking out for my stubborn ass, Corpse. I would have never told her.

Corpse: Stubborn is one word to describe you. Cute is another.

That comment made your face heat up from the sheer adorableness of it. Corpse seriously just called you cute.

Y/n: Can I say you have a genuinely nice hand. It’s marvelous.

Corpse: Hey, don’t make fun of my hand. It takes all the heat for me. That hand is very anxious every time I post him.

Y/n: Awe I bet. Give him hugs from me. Also tell him I’m a big fan!

The easy flow of conversation between the two of you was nice. You got along extremely well and talking outside of the game was nice, since you could focus on what you really wanted to say to him.

Corpse: He’s flattered!

This was great and took your mind off Olivia and the fact she just kicked you to the curb with nowhere to go. But Poki was there for you. You appreciated her more than she knew.

You pulled up in front of her apartment building, parking the car, you got out and grabbed your stuff. Typing in the code Poki had given you a while ago, you were let into the building. Entering the elevator, you made your way to her apartment.

Barely knocking, the door flew open to reveal Poki. She looked mad but also worried. She pulled you into the apartment and hugged you tightly.

“Can I slap her for you?” She asked calmly.

This made you giggle. “I mean I would like to slap her as well.”

“We should make a plan. Hey, the group is still on, come say hi.” She started to lead you to her office.

“Are they still streaming?” You didn’t want to reveal your face to the world, not like this.

“Oh no. We ended our streams when Olivia started talking about you. She completely wasn’t respecting your privacy and we weren’t about to let her spill it to our viewers.” That was so sweet of them to do.

You had left your bags in the other room while you followed her. An idle conversation was going on when you entered.

“Hey guys, I’m back.” Poki took a seat in front of the computer, she pulled up a second chair. “I have someone special here.”

Sitting down, you saw her nod for you to say something. “Hey, did you miss me?”

They went wild.

“Y/n! Oh we missed you!”

“Don’t leave us again.”

“I’m sorry I invited your sister to stream.”

“Hey Y/n.”

The mix of voices was overwhelming in a good way. Sykkuno, Rae, Sean, and Corpse pretty much spoke over each other which made you laugh.

“One at a time, guys. You can’t overload her.” Leslie told them.

“Sorry Y/n. We just really missed having you here. You’ve become one of our favorite friends to play with.” Sykkuno said sounding as sweet as ever. That man was just the best.

“Yes, I can say we agree.” Rae added.

It was nice to hear they missed you. It really helped to lift your mood as well.

“Did your sister really kick you out?” Toast asked

“Yes she did. But it’s not surprising at this point. She’s probably been gunning to kick me out as soon as she could.” Sad truth

“Well she’s the worst player ever. She can’t keep a secret at all. I really should have never agreed to get her into the group.” Sean said sounding sad.

“Hey Sean, please don’t worry about it. She’s always weaseling her way into things. It’s completely not your fault.” One of the things she loved to do was incessantly DM other youtubers for collabs or for free stuff. She really had no morals.

“Well thank you, Y/n. You’re literally the sweetest.” Sean said earning a bunch of ‘I Agrees’ from everyone else. That really was helping make the night better.

“Who’s up for some more Among Us to relax after that shitshow?” Lud asked making everyone laugh hard. It was agreed the group would do it. Luckily, you had your laptop and joined the call and game and stayed in Poki’s living room to play. Honestly, it was so good for you.

**

At the end if gaming, you said goodbye to the group. Then Poki showed you to the extra room that used to be her roommates before she moved out last month.

“Hey, are you looking for a roommate?” You asked as you put the bags on the bed.

Poki sent you a smile. “I am. Are you interested?”

This was good. “Yes, I mean I still have to find another job since my main is still furloughing me until this pandemic gets better but I have some money saved up.”

“Hey, please don’t sweat it. Besides, I know a friend who’s in need of an editor, I may have mentioned your name and she really wants to talk to you about it. Is that okay?”

“Wow, that’s perfect. Thank you, Poki. You’re such a great friend.” It felt good to have someone there for you.

She pulled you into a hug. “Always. I am so glad I met you. You’re one of my best friends.”

This was an honor. “Don’t make me cry.”

“I can’t promise anything. Anyway, I will leave you to rest. It’s been a long night. Tomorrow I will give you my friends details.”

“Sounds good, night Poki.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.” She waved goodbye and closed the door behind herself.

Smiling, you sat on the bed. It was such a good thing that she was here got you. But also Corpse was the catalyst that got you to actually tell Poki was what happening. He was sweet and it seemed he was looking out for you.

After changing into comfy pj’s, you brushed your teeth before climbing into the freshly made bed. Opening Instagram, you saw that Corpse has messaged you.

Corpse: I don’t like being too forward but hey here we go. Can I please have your number so we can talk more easily?

A smile made its way to your face. For a tough man, he surely had a sweet way of getting to you

Y/n: Yes you can. xxx-xxx-xxxx.

The nerves jumped when you sent that message. Less than a minute later, you received a text from an unknown number.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Hey Y/n, it’s Corpse. Would you mind if I called you so we could talk for a little?

You liked this idea truthfully. It only helped to show how genuine Corpse was being.

Y/n

Not at all. Please go ahead and call me.

Your phone rang, displaying Corpse’s name.

“Hello?” You answered the phone while pushing away the anxiety.

A soft deep laugh filled your ear. “Hey sweet girl. How are you feeling?”

His words made you want to sigh in the most lovesick way. That never happened these days.

“I’m good. Poki had an extra room I could crash in and well I might just be her new roommate.”

“I love that. She’s so much better than your sister I assume.”

“She is. Here I won’t have to deal with the incessant pandemic partying Olivia likes to do.” That selfish bitch.

“Shit, is she stupid? She does know she’s risking a lot of lives, right?” You loved that Corpse had the logic you craved.

“So she is stupid, and her response was always that it’s not her problem and that the vulnerable people should stay home.”

“She sounds like the typical beauty youtuber these days.”

“Yes, she is. She has no morals.”

“Well that’s not good. I guess that’s why her name keeps popping up all over social media. She really needs to be careful, before she becomes the next Tana.” He was right but you personally thought she was past that point already.

“It’s too late. She’s already passed the point of return with all of this.”

“Yikes. It’s good you got out of there when you did.” A soft but deep laugh was heard through the phone. The sound made you giggle. Hearing such a tough guy laugh the way Corpse laughs, made you feel giddy. “So about what I said earlier, I meant it.”

“Huh, what are you talking about?” You truly were a little lost by this.

Corpse laughed again. “When I called you cute earlier. I meant it.”

Heat filled your face and a small smile made its way to your lips. “Thank you, Corpse. That’s really sweet of you. I don’t like to show many people who I am because they will immediately connect me to Olivia, and I don’t want that.”

“I get that. I don’t show my face for fear they won’t like me when I do. All my fans have built up this expectation of what they want me to look like and now I just don’t want to let them down. Plus it’s nice being able to stay anonymous if I go into public, but of course people will hear my voice and know. Shit, it’s hard.”

“Awe, I’m sorry. I saw what the attention has done to some people, but I think not everyone goes into that headspace. Also, I think you should stay faceless if it makes you feel better. There is no rule that says you ever have to show your face. People who push you to do it have no boundaries.”

Corpse was quiet for a while and you thought you had offended him. “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing, Corpse.” You squeaked.

“No, you said the right thing. I was just thinking. You’re right. A lot of people have been on me to reveal my face, but I never intend to. I want to be able to live my life without being swarmed by fans, or god forbid, them judging me by my appearance.”

“Which is really fucked. When I first appeared in my sister video, the comments were awful. They couldn’t understand how she was related to me, but I never thought I looked bad. But I guess they expected Olivia to be surrounded by people in her genre. It was so hard to see those comments.” Thinking back to it, Olivia had even added to it. Telling you that you should have tried to look more like her for the video. You should have worn something more colorful and put-on way more make up then you liked. But you hated that. That wasn’t you.

“I can’t imagine the things they said. Is that why you deactivated your twitter?” How did he know about that?

“Oh, yeah. How did you know about it?”

“I remembered seeing a story about it on YouTube last year. They didn’t show your face, so of course I didn’t know it was you. But I figured it out when Olivia joined the game tonight and she blabbered on about being your sister. I’m sorry you received that hate. No one deserves that ever.” His voice was calming you now.

“Thank you. Olivia seemed to add to it, as well. Fuck, she’s just the worst person.” Family definitely had the ability to be shitty. “Meeting Poki last year really was the best thing. But also joining this Among Us group has been so good for me. Thank you for accepting me.”

“Of course. You’re a natural in the game but you also fit very well with the group.” Corpse really hoped you believed him because this was true. The group had a whole conversation about it when Olivia finally left

“I’m flattered. The Corpse Husband is telling me I fit in with him and his streamer friends. Wake me up, I must be dreaming.” You knew his words were genuine because it was just easy to tell.

“You better believe it, baby, because it’s true.”

You stopped short when you heard him call you baby. Of course Corpse had used that word before but right now it felt more intimate.

Letting out a yawn you realized it was nearing 4 am. “I appreciate it.” You mumbled, feeling the events from the day seep in.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” His deep voice was lulling you closer to sleep.

“No.” Another yawn broke through.

“You can’t lie to me, Y/n. Get some sleep and we will talk tomorrow.”

The words made you smile. “That sounds good, Corpsie. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweet girl.” Despite wanting to stay on the phone, you hung up. Sleep was quickly coming in to claim you. You can happily say you fell asleep with a huge smile on your face.

**

Waking up was easier than it had been in a long time. Normally you woke up to Olivia screaming at you or someone else. So it was nice to wake up to silence. It allowed you to relax and wake up properly.

Your phone buzzed from beside you. A text from Corpse is what you first saw, so you opened it.

Corpse

Good morning, sweet girl. I hope the night treated you well.

Sweet and to the point. His messages made you think he had a thing for you. Well you hoped he did but he also could just be treating you the way he treats friends.

Y/n

Yes, I slept well and for once I wasn’t awoken by my obnoxious sister.

It would he good not to live with her.

Corpse

I bet. Hey I hate to be the one to show you this, but your sister posted this on her instagram.

He then sent a link to the post. It made your blood boil.

::::

There was a picture of her, she was holding up a ripped picture of you. A huge frown was on her face.

oliviaxoxo It’s a shame when family starts to treat you like you weren’t the one to give them money when they needed it. This is my sister and she’s a bitch. For the last few years, she’s been the one editing my videos. Well I found out she was trying to sabotage me, so I had to fire her and kick her out. What a shame it is when family stabs you in the back. 🙃🙃

1,454,787 people like this

oliviafan23 Is this true? Damn, f*ck fake people.

queenolivia Sueeee herrrrr!

lovinliv Family ain’t shit. Spill her info so we can drag her.

sykkuwu Whoa, why are you spreading lies about your own family?

   |

queenolivia Why would you defend someone like that?

valkyrea You’re such a sad human for doing this. Stop lying.

pokimanelol Let’s see, none of this is true. Your sister has done so much for you and you’ve never appreciated it. Get some help for this.

corpse_husband This is sick. No wonder your name is always blasted everywhere. Do your sister a favor and stop talking about her.

    |

oliviaxoxo I don’t know why you’re defending my stupid sister, but that totally makes you not hot to me anymore. Ugh.

   |

valkyrea Uh, that’s what you got from this. Wow, you’re not worth this.

    |

corpse_husband What can you expect? The covid must have gone to her brain.    |

corpseandlivfan Whyyyyyyy Corpse, why would you stand up for her. Do you not realize how horrible Y/n is? Please tell me this is a joke!?!?

   |

 corpse_husband Well, she’s a good friend of mine and I won’t let people make up lies. So it’s not a joke.

::::::::

You were mad that she’d even say this shit publicly, but you should have known she would. She was nothing without her group of misguided followers.

Y/n

Can’t say I’m not surprised. This is so on brand for her. Thank you for sticking up for me. It means a lot.

Corpse

I would do it any day. She shouldn’t be able to get away with doing that to you.

Sadly, growing up, she did get away with doing the absolute worst shit and you always received the brunt of it.

Y/n

With any luck, she draws negative attention.

You clicked the link to view it again but instead were lead to a page that said the content was unavailable.

Y/n

I believe she just deleted the post.

Corpse

Oh, she did. That’s awesome.

It was. Olivia was never one to swallow her pride and admit any wrongdoings. That means she would never delete a problematic post, but she finally did

Y/n

I didn’t really read any other comments besides you and your friends and the top comments. I can’t imagine what her fans are really saying.

Olivia was completely okay with letting her fans attack people. It was seriously a huge mess. She fell into the category of YouTuber with the worst most entitled attitude.

Corpse

It’s good you didn’t read them, because they were horrible. I can’t believe she would let her fans do that.

Y/n

She’s done a lot of shady stuff. This is even before she blew up on YouTube. There is a lot of issues between us.

There was a lot that could be said about your relationship with Olivia and none of them were good. Forever it seemed, you had tried to make it work and hoped your sister would grow up and change but it never happened.

Corpse

I think she’s a vile human. From what I have seen and her complete lack of human decency, I just can’t help but feel she’s just not a good person and she never will be.

He was right. She would never change.

Y/n

You’re right. Hey, I have to go thank Poki for letting me stay but I also need to go back to that apartment to get the rest of my stuff. Can I call you when I get back?

Corpse

Yes, of course. Good luck heading over there.

Talking to him was pretty natural feeling. It was clear now that you were getting a massive crush on him. You had a crush on a man who’s face you’ve never seen. You couldn’t help it though, his personality just meshed so well with yours. He’d made you feel safe and wanted.

After getting dressed, you found Poki in the kitchen making breakfast. She sent you a sweet smile when you entered the room.

“Thank you for standing up for me against my sister on Instagram.” You were truly honored this group of friends liked you enough to do something like this.

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t just let her say that and get away with it. She’s done a lot to you, that you don’t deserve. Corpse messaged all of us the minute he found it and we all jumped into action. Sean and Felix were getting ready to comment when she deleted it.” She explained as she set a plate in front of you.

“I’m so honored. Thank you!”

“Of course, you’re one of us now and we will never let her get away with this stuff anymore.”

You could just cry with how loved they were making you feel. This is what had been missing in your life. Friends who genuinely cared about you and wanted to protect you from the nasty stuff Olivia was capable of doing.

“Would you come with me to the apartment to get the rest of my stuff?” You asked once the two of you finished eating.

Poki nodded. “Of course I will. You shouldn’t have to go alone.”

**

An hour later, you exited the elevator on the floor where you once resided. Your sister wasn’t home, which would be good but there was a chance she could return while you were packing. But you would deal with that when it came down to it. The two of you quickly got to work, packing your life up into the boxes you’d brought with you. Luckily, you weren’t one to collect a ton of stuff. You mainly just had to make sure your clothes and makeup were packed up.          

You and Poki would fill boxes and pile them by there door, then you would take them down to the car when you acquired a good amount. In the end, you figured you would fill maybe 10 boxes which is actually not too many considering you’ve lived in that apartment for five years.

Poki had left to go take two more boxes to the car while you finished up packing up your last few items. The front door closed, and you assumed it was Poki, but it wasn’t.

“Oh look who’s here? My lovely sister.” Olivia’s voice was flat and emotionless.

You rolled your eyes and turned to find her standing in the doorway, glaring at you. “Hello, Olivia. I’m just packing my stuff and then I’m leaving.”

“Who said you were allowed to come back here?” She grumbled, eyeing the boxes.

“Well, this is my stuff and I have every right to come pick it up.”

“If it’s in my apartment, it clearly belongs to me.” She snarled.

You snapped. “Cut it out, Olivia. This was my apartment too, until you kicked me out last night. You can’t just claim my stuff as your because you’re salty about me having friends.” She was a spoiled brat, and you were done letting her get away with it.

“I’m not the salty one. Everyone can see it’s you.” God she was so annoying. You taped up the last box and turned to her. She held her phone in her hand. “Everyone say hi to my sister. You know, the one I posted about earlier before someone reported my post.”

“Are you live?” You asked, keeping your face expressionless. Olivia would do this.

“I bet some of you remember the few videos I did with her. Well of course that was before she turned against me and decided she was going to try and ruin me. Say hi, Y/n.” A sick smile played on her face.

“I never consented to being in your live, Olivia. Please stop.” You tried to keep your voice calm so that she wouldn’t have any way to make you look like the bad person. But regardless, she was already doing it.

Olivia cackled. “Well I think I’m free to do as I please in my apartment.” You could only imagine what her fans were saying. “You’re right, Andrea, she is an idiot, and I should have her arrested.” She spoke aloud making your blood boil.

“You’re so immature, Olivia.” You grumbled before grabbing the last couple boxes and moving towards the door. Olivia decided to swat the boxes out of your hand, and they fell tumbling to the ground. “What the hell, Olivia. I could have fragile stuff in there.” You growled at her.

Olivia was just laughing. “This is funny. What else should I do, guys?” She asked as she panned the phone around the room.

Her immaturity was giving you a headache. Poki walked in and saw Olivia.

“Oh hey guys, look who’s here. Pokimane.” She panned the camera to Poki who frowned. Olivia just laughed and started talking shit until she was cut off by the stream just ending. “What the hell.”

You gathered the last few boxes, and Poki came to help while Olivia attempted to start another live.

“What the fuck, it won’t let me go live.” She growled while stomping her foot like a child.

“That’s what happens when an influx of people report your live.” Poki spoke as you both had gathered the boxes.

Olivia was frowning. “What did you do, Y/n.” She wanted to pounce at her, but Y/n and Poki were already at the door.

“Y/n did nothing, but I got word of your little livestream and contacted some friends for help. It will be at least 24 hours before you can have another live. But with the amount of people who reported you, well you may be banned for a while.” With that, you and Poki left Olivia standing there is absolute shock.

You and Poki put the last boxes in the car. “Thank you, Poki. How did you get so many people to report it?”

“Well it was actually Corpse. He texted me and informed me that she was doing a live and bothering you. He had his fans go report it, but apparently Sykkuno and Rae also sent their fans. I was going to send mine, but they had it handled. So this was all Corpse.” She explained.

Hearing this made you feel so soft for Corpse. “Awe wow. That’s so sweet of him.”

The two of you entered the car. “Y/n, can I tell you something without you telling him I told you?”

You looked over at her. “Yes, sure.” Your heart rate kind of picked up.

“Well the other day, Corpse admitted he has feelings for you, but he wasn’t completely sure if you felt the same way for him. But I mean I can clearly see you do. Your whole face just lit up when I mentioned him. So do you?”

Heat filled your face and you suddenly felt shy. “I do, yes. Which is ridiculous because I just met the guy, and I don’t even know what he looks like. But gosh, I like him so much. When I talk to him, I feel happy. He’s been so good to me through this crap with Olivia.” You admitted, knowing she already knew.

Poki smiled and squealed in complete happiness. “You two are just the most adorable people! It’s not ridiculous. We pretty much knew from the first time you joined us, that Corpse was into you. But oh my god, you’re into him. You need to tell him!!!!”

You agreed, Corpse deserved to know. “I do. But how? It’s been a really long time since I’ve told someone I liked them. Shit, I feel like I’m in high school again!”

This made Poki giggle. “Calm down, Y/n. I have a plan. Let’s get back to the apartment and we will talk about this. Rae also wants to be involved in this.”

Back at her apartment, you had jumped onto a call with Rae and the three of you talked about what your plan was for you to tell Corpse what you felt for him. Rae and Poki decided to organize an Among Us game strictly for fun and no one would stream, they would also use Proximity chat.

“So we will get him to follow you around until one of us is imposter, then we will lock you into wherever you end up. Do it then” Rae explained sounding so excited.

“Okay, that can work. Let’s do this!” You were nervous but also excited to finally do something good for yourself.

You and Poki set up for the gane and Corpse sent you a text.

Corpse

Are you joining the game tonight?

Seeing a text from him, made you feel giddy.

Y/n

Yep I am. So I will see you in game?

Corpse

Yes you will, angel.

Cue the insane butterflies.

**

The lobby loaded and it was you, Corpse, Poki, Rae, Sykkuno, Karl, Tina, Sean, Toast, and Leslie. All streamers you had grown to like a lot in the time you have been playing with them.

“Y/n, I am so happy you’re playing with us!” Tina gushed as her little character ran around yours.

“I’m happy to be here.” You really were.

“You’re sister is a piece of work, Y/n.” Sykkuno said.

You giggled. “Don’t I know it.”

“What did she do this time?” Sean asked.

“Decided to film a live when we went to get Y/n’s stuff from the apartment.” Poki explained.

“Oh, that’s gross.” Karl commented.

“I have to thank Corpse for helping.” You stated to the group.

“Yeah Corpse was quick to text us.” Sykkuno added.

“You’re welcome, Y/n. I wasn’t going to let her get away with what she was doing. Truth is, I got a bunch of fan DMs that were telling me what Olivia was doing. So a lot of my fans were already reporting it, but the tweet helped.” Corpse’s deep voice soothed you.

“I appreciate it so much. She was just being an immature brat as always.”

The group laughed before deciding to start the game. Poki and Rae agreed to text you when either of them were imposter. Now it was a matter of getting Corpse to follow you.

The group was on the Polus map, which seemed to be a favorite for everyone.

Rae

We should lock them in weapons.

Rae had texted you and Poki through the group text.

Poki

That’s the best place for them.

Y/n

Okay but I still have to get him to follow me.

Rae

He will. Just wait, I have a plan.

You trusted Rae and Poki to help you. Now it was time to admit it all to Corpse and hope he genuinely liked you back.

Y/n

Let’s do this!

PART THREE  >>                                         

[daddygrimes]

Hello! I saw you said you were willing to do matchups, so I was wondering if I may have one for TWD? I’m bisexual, so anyone is open! I’m quite tall and slim, but stronger than I look. I love to garden, read, write, and work with animals. I’m very good with guns, throwing knives, fixed-blade swords, and combat in general. I compete in jiu-jitsu and do very well. I also am also very outspoken, assertive, but gentle. I hope this is enough info! :D

I ship you with Rosita Espinosa!

I imagine you’ve met in Alexandria. Not long after Rick’s group got taken in by Aaron, you stumbled upon ASZ exhausted and starved, looking for shelter. You weren’t supposed to stay there for a long period of time because you didn’t trust these people, but after witnessing how weak they were, you decided to help them. Rosita was glad that you did because otherwise, the love of her life would have slipped through her fingers.

You could handle yourself on the other side of the walls, and she admired you for it. Every time you killed walkers, she couldn’t help but be in awe of your abilities to protect yourself and those around you. And damn, she thought you were extremely hot when you fought or got angry.

She kept taking the same watch shifts as you so that she could spend some alone time with you. It was pretty romantic, sitting next to a person as gorgeous as you, staring at the sky and talking about anything and everything to pass the time. She was never shy, but when it came to you, she couldn’t help but act like a lovesick teenager, blushing and fidgeting every time you were close.

Your first kiss happened during a night shift. The way it happened was pretty funny to Rosita. She still laughs her ass off whenever you mention it.

She was sitting next to you, staring at you like you were the most beautiful sight on Earth. At first, you couldn’t decipher why she kept looking at you like that. Was she thinking about pushing you off or maybe keeping herself from doing just that? 

You glanced at her with an awkward tight-lipped smile on your face, trying to avoid meeting her piercing eyes that seemed to glow under the moonlight.

 Then you noticed that it wasn’t hatred that filled her gaze. It was love and adoration, something you haven’t felt in a while. You couldn’t believe that this stunning woman that could outlive all of the people in the world with her survival instincts and sassy attitude could be in love with you.

You found yourself getting lost in your thoughts, admiring the way her skin glowed, the way she licked her lips and kept staring at you with so much love that it burned.

“I want to kiss you,” she said breathlessly, words tumbling out in a rush of adrenaline. She slid closer, her shoulder bumping into yours.

“What?” you asked surprised, what she said fell on deaf ears. You blinked, confused, shaking your head to empty your mind from all the thoughts that kept clogging it.

Rosita rolled her eyes, annoyed at your lack of attention. She wasn’t about to repeat herself. “I said if you die I won’t miss you.”

A disappointed sigh barely escaped you, and she was already tugging at your shirt, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Her hands placed on your thighs, clawing at them to pull you even closer.

You’re a badass couple that got so good at fighting back to back that you don’t even remember the last time you killed walkers without her by your side. You always go on runs together, and if you can’t go together, you are wrecks that constantly worry about each other and can’t function like normal human beings.

Rosita never knew she would love being the little spoon, but you always make her feel so safe and comfortable that she started preferring it more than anything else. She might not look like a cuddly person, but when there’s no one else around, she just wants to bury herself between your arms and drown out the rest of the world.

She’s such a softie for you. Her heart melts when she sees you doing ordinary things like gardening or taking care of animals. She can stare at you for hours with a goofy smile on her face.

Rosita knows that you can handle yourself and don’t take any bullshit from anybody. Yet, when someone’s bothering you, she’s there to save the day, glaring at the person until they back off, and if they don’t, they’ll undoubtedly regret ever coming up to you.

A/n: Hope you enjoy it! The second match up I got in my ask box is a lot longer so I need time to write it out. Have a great day/night! <3

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 5 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader (accidentally) blows off a text from Spencer for another guy. Later, Spencer takes her for a second date.   A/N: By the way, when you get to the adorable dance scene, the two songs that inspired me most were “Stardust” by Lyambiko and “We Might as Well Dance” by Madeleine Peyroux (Try not to read into the lyrics, I dare you). Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Unprotected sex, dirty talk, jealousy, degradation, penetrative sex Word Count: 10k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

—————————————————

I had never envisioned that my life would end up quite like this. That wasn't to say that it was disappointing or regrettable, although in that moment it felt like I had miscalculated a number of things. There was no other way to describe a Saturday night spent laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling of my friend's apartment as if I could manipulate myself into believing it was Spencer's.

It wasn't anyone's fault that it couldn't be his, instead. The stupid, gorgeous bastard wasn't ignoring me; he was just out of town for the weekend.

Truthfully, I should have been a little more considerate. It wasn't his fault he had to work. But I also couldn't help but be disappointed that he was always working. I hadn't seen him in almost two weeks and it was killing me. The last time I'd seen him was the morning after our first 'date,' and it was a brief enough interaction that I had already run out of ways to overthink it.

Spencer had gotten a restful night of sleep that night. Despite his little impromptu confession, he slept as though he'd never been more peaceful in his life. I had not. I'd had the pleasure of staying up for hours, playing his words through my head on loop and trying to figure out what the fuck had happened.

It didn't amount to anything though. The morning came, and he had long forgotten the words half mumbled through a sleepy daze. I'd told him that he had been mumbling in his sleep, and he asked me if he'd said anything embarrassing. I told him no. He hadn't pressed any further, simply stating that he must've been dreaming.

I almost thought it had been a challenge; a way to test if I'd gotten too close. But then I realized that I was probably just an idiot, and I was wanting it to mean more than it actually did.

So much for having run out of ways to overthink it.

Regardless, his aloofness had returned my heart to the broken, hurting mess it had been before he uttered the words that forever altered my universe.

That wasn't his fault, either. I was the one who'd set myself up for failure by ever imagining that we could be something more. I'd known he wasn't the most emotionally available suitor since the moment I met him. At least, not for me. I'd never actually seen him anyone else.

I didn't really want to think about that, though. I really didn't want to think about that.

"Hey, get your lazy ass up so I can sit down."

The order drew me from my reverie  — rather unpleasantly, might I add. Because when I turned to face my friend standing in front of me, I came face to face with his crotch.

"Dude, I don't want any of that in my face," I laughed to the unfortunately familiar sight. "Back up before I punch you in the dick."

Somewhat surprisingly, he obeyed. He took a step back and waited patiently for me to sit up and scoot over to give him room beside me on the couch. Completely unsuprisingly, however, he did not take advantage of any of the space available. He chose to sit close enough to touch me.

"Some women would do anything to have that privilege," he lied through his teeth.

"Who are these women? And how can I help them avoid this tragic fate?"

He smiled back, having already grown used to me rebuffing all of his advances years before. We had known each other for what felt like forever, but he still tried every chance he'd gotten. That moment was no exception, and it took him very little time to stretch his arm behind me on the couch. I leaned forward, glancing back at the arm that I would continue to avoid despite his best efforts.

I narrowed my eyes in a challenge when he did nothing to remedy the situation. He did not take the humble way out, so my only other option was to do the humbling for him.

"There are three whole couches in this room and you pick the seat directly next to me?"

"You're warm and it's 50 degrees in here," he joked while lifting his other hand to poke me on the nose.

I recoiled in disgust, grabbing the pillow beside me and hitting him in the face with it as hard as humanly possible.

"Then turn up the heat or grab a blanket, jackass," I grumbled, "I'm not giving you my precious body heat."

Once again, he conceded immediately. He held his hands in defeat and scooted just a few inches further away from me. I watched him for a second until he got far enough away, and then returned my attention to my phone, which I had been religiously checking for any news about the vastly more interesting man in my life.

"What are you looking at?"

"My friend. He's supposed to have landed a couple hours ago..."

Seeing that I had no new messages, though, I slumped over onto myself and rested my elbow on my knee. Continuing to ignore the boy trying to get my attention, I favored the one that was possibly ignoring me and endlessly scrolled through our previous conversations.

"Is that the cop? Your boyfriend?" he teased.

"He's not a cop," I corrected with a roll of the eyes.

Although not keen about the thought of the two of them meeting, I did wonder what kind of rant Spencer would've gone into to describe the different types of law enforcement agents. He would learn so much about government job descriptions. But that wasn't the part of the sentence that my friend had stressed, and I felt compelled to answer.

Didn't mean I had to be loud or excited about it, though.

"And he's not my boyfriend," I mumbled into my palm. I hated how pathetic it felt; how forlorn I could be over a man not giving me enough attention. He was still just a man.

A very cute, sweet, and drop-dead gorgeous one. But a man, nonetheless. Destined to be disappointing. During my daydreams and hopeful, lovesick thoughts, my friend had come to another, different conclusion about the type of man Spencer was.

"He carries a gun and can arrest people. He's a cop."

"Whatever," I said with a heavy sigh. Wasn't worth it to fight, so I admitted to my childish infatuation with an equally pitiful, "Yeah, it's Spencer. I was hoping he'd want to see me."

I turned the volume on my phone before finally setting it down, but continued to eye the screen until it went dark.

"It's not like you to chase after a dude," he so helpfully commented.

To his credit, he was right. It wasn't like me. But Spencer wasn't like other guys I'd met, and while it was true that Spencer was ten years older than me, I could tell that age wasn't the only thing setting him apart. It wasn't even necessarily something about him in particular, although he certainly was extraordinary.

It was more like... the way he looked at me. The way I never felt like anything even remotely close to lackluster. He looked at me like the stares shone through my eyes, and the blindness was worth witnessing the unfiltered eclipse.

"I'm not chasing him. We just like spending time with each other," I explained before sitting up straighter and placing a gentle hand to my chest in feigned pride. "I'm a very interesting person."

But then he responded with the last question I wanted to hear, or even think about potentially considering in that moment. The one that had been weighing on my mind no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.

"So... why isn't he your boyfriend, then?"

I hadn't wanted to hear it because I didn't have an answer. And no matter how hard I inspected my cuticles, they likewise produced no excuse worth saying.

The man to my right was twisting his body as he settled into the seat. He kept his chest open to me in some display of fragile masculinity that was very easy to ignore.

"Is he like, ashamed of you or something?" he suggested.

That was less easy to ignore.

"No..." I wanted it to sound more certain than it did. As it stood, it was downright pathetic. Especially compared to his much more confident reply of, "Then what's his excuse?"

I sighed again, that time pulling my legs up on the couch in my unending quest to find some semblance of comfort while being interrogated on the most irritating subject of all time.

"He doesn't need an excuse. We both agreed it's better to just be friends."

He moved closer to me again, and I didn't have the energy to tell him to stop. Not like he would have listened, anyway. Egotistical prick with absolutely nothing to substantiate his inflated sense of self.

"You deserve better than that, (y/n)."

While his words were soft in volume, everything else about him remained gruff and uninviting. Nothing at all like the way Spencer could shift and turn into something completely different. My friend could act like his feigned tenderness was meaningful, but I knew that he liked the thought of me more than who I actually was.

"Yeah, right. With who? You?" I droned, wishing that my words could actually be laced with venom. Maybe then he'd have abandoned this foolhardy quest to win my affections.

"I mean I'm not gonna turn you down if you're offering," he joked.

It was that lightness that was his main redeeming feature; the reason I could keep him around even when his fingers tapped against my opposite shoulder. I laughed at both the sensation and suggestion, refusing by lifting his arm off my shoulders before excusing myself from the couch altogether.

"Piss off. I'm running down to the basement. You want anything?"

"Just for you to come back quick," was his immediate, not-at-all charming reply.

"You're a fucking idiot," was mine.

It wasn't until I was already on my way back up after grabbing a blanket and a drink that I had actually managed to forget about my phone for at least a few minutes.

Then, the terror came. The worry that Spencer had called me, and I'd failed to answer. The possibility that he might've hit my number on a list and already moved on to the next. It had only been like five minutes but still. He talked so damn fast, he could've torn through 5 phone calls in that time.

A little faster, I made my way back to the living room, shouting from down the hall, "Hey, did I leave my phone up here?"

He didn't answer immediately, but then eventually slurred, "Uhh. Yep. Sure did."

When I rounded the corner, I found the gremlin going through my phone. As I already started to plan the new pass code now that he'd gone and figured it out, I ran over, half-tackling him on the couch as I screeched, "Give it back, you dick!"

It was no use. He held it just outside my reach, laughing at the way I scrambled over him to try and grab it.

"Not unless you promise not to check it until after the movie."

Sighing with resignation, I plopped down next to him, my arms crossed and eyes rolled as I convinced myself it was unlikely Spencer would text me within the next hour and a half if he hadn't already.

It was pretty late. Maybe he had already gone to bed and just forgotten to let me know he got home. Besides, I owed my friend as much for managing to get me to forget to check it for this long, no?

"Fine. I promise," I groaned.

I tried not to let the thought ruin my night. The next two hours were like they usually were. He kept trying to cuddle with me, and I kept pushing him away until I eventually didn't. I gave into the general familiarity with the guy I'd known for basically half of all my memories, stopping every few seconds to wonder if I should have felt guilty.

Then I felt guilty for having asked myself at all.

Once the credits began to roll, I held my hand out with zero hesitation. I (im)patiently for him to deposit my phone, which he did, to his credit. However, what I found struck me to my core. My hands immediately began to shake hard enough that the LED blurred in my vision.

"Uhhh, what the fuck is this?"

"What?"

I held up my phone, displaying a text message that had been sent from my phone a couple hours earlier. On the screen, clear as day, me and him from earlier in the day. A painfully domestic snapshot of the two of us running errands together.

The picture shown, though, was one that I swore I'd deleted from my phone. It was him with his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest while I laughed. It wasn't a bad picture, but the context was entirely absent. For example, the fact that I'd almost bruised his chest hitting him right after the photo was taken.

"Why did you send this picture?!" I yelled, desperately swiping at the time stamp. "Two hours ago?!"

He was much too quiet for what was happening. In my haste, I hadn't even notice the accompanying text above the picture, which read 'Sorry man, she's all mine tonight.' Spencer didn't reply.

"Why didn't you tell me that he texted me?!"

My frustration had peaked, and I stood up, pacing somewhat unproductively as I tried to collect my things.

"Because I knew you'd try to leave, and I haven't seen you in fucking ages," he whined, as if I was overreacting.

But I wasn't. This contrived bullshit was entirely his fault, and entirely fucking ridiculous.

"Are you fucking kidding me, dude?" I shouted, finally finding my bag and shoving my stuff inside of it angrily. I didn't even finish, with a few loose coins angrily clambering to the floor as the soundtrack to my farewell.

"Well, now I'm definitely leaving, so kiss my ass!"

Before I could actually leave, I held up my middle finger in the furthest thing from a joke.

"Wait, (y/n), it was a joke!" he called back but didn't try to follow me.

He'd known it wouldn't work. I was too mad.

"You're not fucking funny!"

I slammed the door to my car loud enough to wake the neighbors, but I couldn't care even a little bit. My hands were shaking so hard, that it was a struggle just to click my phone. But I did, fervently pressing Spencer's name until the stupid, traitorous phone could figure out what I wanted it to do.

It rang for 15 whole seconds before I grieved the reality that he wasn't going to pick up. I sighed, lowering my phone to hang up before he could ignore the call or I was given the choice to leave a voicemail. It had been my own fault, anyway.

But just before I hit the button, I heard a tired, crackly voice coming from the other side of the line.

"(Y/n)?"

Oh my god, he picked up.

Then, all at once, the words poured out of me.

"Spencer? I'm so sorry I didn't text you back! Please ignore my friend. He's a fucking idiot."

I could tell from the silence that Spencer was replaying them in his head to try to make sense of the frantic, slurred speech in his own sleepy state. Once he had gotten the gist of my panic, he started to laugh through a yawn.

"It's fine. You looked like you were having fun."

I couldn't tell if it was jealousy in his voice or something else. Either way, it felt terrible. My insecurities crept through my throat and came out with dramatic overcompensation.

"Yeah right. He held my phone hostage. I was waiting to hear from you and he got jealous or something."

There was an awkward silence on the other side of the phone, and so I continued with only a little tremor in my voice, "I'm glad to see that you got home alright."

Another few seconds of silence followed, but then it was the Spencer I was used to again.

"Yeah. It's less fun without you here, though."

That wasn't supposed to be as romantic as it seemed, I reminded myself. He was just flirting. Typical fuckboy nonsense, uttered to get a rise out of me one way or another. He didn't actually mean to imply that he'd already considered what it might be like for me to have joined him.

Right?

"I can still come if you want," I rushed, looking down at the clock in my car for the first time and grimacing at the revelation that the 'something else' in his tone had, in fact, been exhaustion.

"Although... I'm just now realizing its 2am and I definitely woke you up..."

"Typical," he joked, "you being out late, trying to make me jealous with age-appropriate boys."

My laugh bounced back at me from the walls of the car, and I covered my mouth once I remembered that I was still in a public area.

It was weird to me how whenever I talked to Spencer, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. I'd never felt that way with another person before. Those cheesy romcoms were all starting to make sense, and I hated how powerless that made me feel.

"I was not! Trust me, if I wanted to make you jealous, I could do much better," I humbly stated. It was only a little bit of a threat. "I just don't know why he did that. And of course, that picture, which I had deleted, by the way. He seriously had to get it from another folder. He just likes to torture me, I guess."

Spencer cleared his throat from the other side of the phone, readjusting before he clearly enunciated, "He likes you."

The statement wasn't shocking. Anyone who'd spent more than five minutes with the two of us knew that he probably liked me. I'd even considered exploring it at one point before smacking myself in the face and reminding myself of my standards.

But still, to have Spencer know that felt a little bit weird. After all, most 20-something boys would do anything to torture their friends. Even the girl ones. Especially the girl ones.

Then something else began to brew in my chest; a twisted sort of pleasure derived from the sharpness that had formed on Spencer's tongue. The jealousy creeping through the crackling static and wrapping its talons around my heart.

"... I don't know," I absently said.

He sensed the hesitancy in my voice, and asked back with a strange inflection, "Do you like him?"

I chewed on my bottom lip, closing my eyes as I dropped my head back against the headrest. I didn't want to answer that question honestly. I felt like nothing I said could be right. So, I just chose the closest thing to the truth.

"No, not really."

We were back in one of those awkward silences. The kind where we both wanted to say something, but nothing came out. I turned my car on when the stale, stagnant air became too suffocating. The sound alerted him to enough information for him to speak again.

"Are you heading home?"

I switched my phone to the other hand, trying to delay giving my answer by sounding busy. I didn't really have a reason, I just hadn't wanted to hang up yet.I wanted to stall him and selfishly keep him around just a little bit longer.

"Yeah, I guess."

Super smooth. I could still salvage it though.

"...Unless you've changed your mind and would like a personal space heater in bed with you."

Spencer's laughter would have been offensive if it wasn't so adorable.

"Yeah right, your feet are freezing. I don't even know how you still have toes."

That checked out, and also gave me an escape from the terrifying prospect of ending the call.

"I'll wear socks!" I offered with the utmost enthusiasm, "I actually own thigh highs, you know. If you're into that, Professor."

It had been a few weeks since our tryst, but I had hardly ever stopped thinking about it. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I'd traced the marks he'd left behind with an ungodly powerful nostalgia.

His laughter turned to frustrated groans as he mumbled, "Are you trying to torture me?"

Once our ruckus died back down, the silence was more serious than strange. I felt the urge to apologize again. I needed him to hear the sincerity behind what were so often empty words.

"I'm really sorry I missed your message, Spencer."

My voice was quiet, unsure, and scared. I didn't want to lose him, and I knew an extreme on either side of the emotional spectrum would let him slip away so easily.

It was exhausting being emotionally lukewarm, but some part of me wanted to believe that it would be worth it with him. That patience was all it would take to show him why he had nothing to be afraid of.

But where I showed mercy, he showed himself to lack it in any sense of the word.

"It's fine, (y/n). I'm not your boyfriend. If I really want the company, I can find it."

That wasn't why I was sorry, and what he'd said only made it worse. The ugly, resentful part of myself was convinced that was why he'd said it at all.

We both knew I didn't want him to find it with someone else. That was the entire reason I was sorry I missed it. If I missed his call, nothing was stopping him from making another one. I hadn't ever asked if there were other girls in his life, but I definitely didn't want to find out like that.

"I missed you the past couple weeks. I still do."

The genuineness in my voice scared me. I hated being vulnerable; especially when he was already so apprehensive about me. I wished I knew why he was. But at that moment, he was being his usual playful self, not willing to give me any hint of an answer in exchange for my candor.

No, just: "You're so good at whining."

I pouted like he would be able to see it.

"I just want some cuddles. Is that too much to ask?"

"Go ask your boyfriend, I'm sure he would be more than happy to oblige," he quipped.

"He's not as good at it as you are," I deflected, playing off the suddenly obvious jealousy in his tone. Before I could rub my quick wit in his face, however, Spencer raised a white flag that I'd never seen coming.

"Fine. I'll wait up."

That was when I realized that he had been more jealous than I'd thought, and I still had a startling amount of power to play with.

But I was still unable to comprehend it, and with a graceless gasp, I chirped, "Wait really? I can come over?"

An unsure laugh and an almost audible shrug later, he responded, "Sure, I figure it'll get me to bed faster somehow, as opposed to staying on this call."

I didn't hesitate to start to pull my car out of the spot, happily singing into the phone, "Okay! I'm on my way! Bye Spencer!"

"See you soon."

—————————————————

As I was old enough to be able to tell time, and aware enough to recognize that it was incredibly too late to be knocking on an apartment door, I tried to do so softly. I halfway succeeded, stifling the noise enough that he could still hear it, but his neighbors wouldn't. They would remain unaware of the girl bouncing on her toes outside of his door, squealing the second she heard shuffling feet on the other side.

Jesus Christ, I sound like a teenager, the more sensible side of me noted.

I might've felt shame, had he not opened the door in that very moment to reveal himself, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and pajamas on that were big enough they his half his hands.

He was... in a word, adorable.

"Hey sleepyhead," I cooed.

Spencer remained silent, but offered his arm in a halfhearted invitation for a hug. The blanket hung like a wing that I very much wanted to wrap myself in, and he was all too happy to allow. I actually giggled as I lunged towards him. I wrapped both arms around him and breathed in the clean scent of laundry detergent and soap.

"I'm sleepy, too," I said with a relieved sigh. The air was quickly replaced with that which smelled of him. So, too, the silence filled with a soft chuckle as he pulled me close to him and rested his chin on the top of my head.

Like a man from a fairy tale, he started to sway, slowly turning us around until we were headed in the right direction. The right one, of course being the one that would lead to us falling in bed together again.

"Alright, little girl, you can come crawl into bed with me tonight."

The words were like music to my ears, and I felt like I was floating. I was glowing, my skin flushed with warmth like a wood fire on a cold Winter night, and my eyes fell half lidded from some mixture of tired and pleased.

"Thank you, sir," I slurred through a smile. It grew wider as he took my hands, prying me away from him to lead me back to his room with more purpose.

Once we finally padded over, I dropped my overnight bag on the floor and began to strip off my shirt. He eyed the bag on the floor with a feeling I could almost place.

"Were you planning on staying with him?"

I felt a pain through my chest as he asked, because I knew the answer. I had been, but only because I'd done it so many times before. Our mutual friend wasn't in the house, so I knew I could use his bed. But saying I was planning on staying there alone sounded even more suspicious.

"Yeah. I've stayed there before. Always in a different room. We've been friends a long time."

There was something about the way he looked at me that made my stomach flip in a delicious way. A feeling that could only be described as dangerous and exhilarating. But then it was gone, replaced by the apathy he usually tried to display. I continued to strip, nonetheless, slowly peeling my leggings down and stepping out of them. I could feel his eyes on me.

I twisted by body in the hope that the movement would distract him from the conversation I hadn't really wanted to have. Jealousy, while a fun tool for the consenting, had a tendency to grow old quickly. It was a beast that did not like to be controlled; especially when taken by surprise.

But he had no reason to be jealous. I had all but begged him to come over, and I was currently naked in his bedroom. I didn't even look up at him before sliding under the covers. I was too scared for what I might find, and opted for enjoying the lingering body heat and smell of Spencer on the sheet, instead.

"I don't want to know how good you are when you're trying," he warned.

I looked up at him with guilty eyes, recognizing this was his gentle way of telling me he was jealous. But he'd said it himself... He wasn't my boyfriend.

"Come here," I pleaded while running my arms along the empty space where he belonged. "I'll show you why you shouldn't be jealous."

Spencer licked his lips as he looked at my exposed chest, pulling off his pajamas and slinking under the covers with me. Facing each other, my hands quickly found his erection, pumping it softly as he immediately rewarded me with a soft moan.

"I missed this," I whispered, closing the gap between our faces.

He responded in kind, taking his time to lay a lazy kiss against my mouth while he groaned, "I missed your hands. Among other parts."

As he spoke, his hand was traveling down my side to my center. My breathing picked up as he got closer, but he diverted, running his fingers up and down my arms that continued to work his length. The soft whimper that escaped my mouth entertained him, and he brought his hand back down.

"Say please, (y/n)."

I couldn't talk though. I was biting down on my lip to stop myself from telling him I fucking hated him for teasing me. With big puppy dog eyes, I watched him while I chewed on my bottom lip.

"Stop biting on that lip or I'll do it for you. I don't care how cute you are."

His hand now ghosted over exactly where I wanted them, and he used the very tip of his finger to collect the wetness forming there. My hands stopped as he made contact, my grip tightening for a second.

"Say please."

He wanted me to beg for him to touch me, but I didn't want his hand. It was almost 3 AM and I was exhausted and needed him. All of him, immediately. Badly enough that

"Fuck me, sir," the words spilled out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me."

A content humming came from him as he brought a hand to my hair. But the pleased sound lulled me into a false sense of security, which was shattered seconds later when he pulled my head back to look him in the eyes.

From there, I could see that look in his eyes again. That dark, possessive stare that made me long for the shadows to consume me if it meant more time with him.

"I p-promise," I stuttered as one of his fingers teased at my folds.

He raised his eyebrows as he waited for me to finish my thought.

With a cruel, sadistic smile, I continued, "I promise I won't think of anyone else."

That playful characteristic snark that has originally driven him to me had returned, and he pretended to be disappointed. He liked it, though. He wouldn't admit it, but the way I read the secret, hidden thoughts in his mind like he could read one of his book clearly drove him insane.

He guided me by his hold on my hair, lifting me off the pillow and not taking a minute to consider the repercussions before growling in my ear, "Turn around."

I obeyed, happily pressing up against his crotch as I settled into my position as his little spoon. I noticed a distinct lack of a pause this time, and gears began to click together as I felt him rub the bare head of his cock in the slickness pooling around my thighs.

"I have some questions for you, little girl."

He was pissed.

"When was the last time you got tested?"

I could hardly think straight as I realized where this was going. I tried to gather my thoughts and enough control to stutter back, "L-last week. I-I haven't... haven't slept with anyone else. Not since you."

My answer earned me a tender kiss on the neck, but it wasn't enough. I was trying to still my hips from knocking back against him. I couldn't completely stop myself, though, and I knew it made him feel even more confident about his decision.

"Good. Me neither," he replied.

I sighed with relief, happy to at least answer that question. I'd barely had any time to recover, though, before he continued, "Is there any way you could get pregnant right now?"

I shook my head no. He stopped my head with one hand on my chin from behind.

"Use your words."

"No!" I half shouted, realizing I just sounded like a brat. "No, no I can't. I'm on birth control. I won't get pregnant. Promise. You can..."

My breath matched pace with my heart, and I swore I was already lightheaded. Still, I forced the last few words through the heavy panting to earn my next, far more enticing prize. The magic words he had been waiting for:

"You can do whatever you want to me."

When he released my hair, my head fell forward just for a second, because soon my entire back arched in response to the way he began to push inside of me.

"Good," was all he'd said.

With that, he fully sheathed himself inside of me, and I cried out as I felt the way he stretched me. His hand swiftly covered my mouth before he began to pound into me from behind. One of my hands tried to keep me in place on the bed, while the other flew up to his hand over my mouth, holding it without trying to remove it.

I was calling his name underneath him, and he responded by making shorter, deeper thrusts.

Through it all, he chuckled in my ear, "It's always funny how fast you stop acting like a brat after I put it in you."

My eyes rolled back at his words, breath shuddering against his hand. He slid all the way out of me, and then applied enough force to push me up in the bed.

"Have you ever had someone finish inside you before?" he asked too sweetly for the provocative words. He moved his hand from my mouth and dragged it to move the hair that had fallen in front of my face.

I went to shake my head but remembered his instruction. Instead, I cried, "N-no."

"Good," he responded again, and my toes curled at the pride he felt in claiming this body as his own. He took my hand in his, pulling it down to feel the small bump forming in my abdomen each time he slammed into me. The next time it appeared, he halted, holding me in position against him. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that the next time anyone even thinks about touching you, all they'll taste on you is me."

He pulled out slowly before pounding into me again. With more violence in his motions and venom on his tongue, he spat, "and if you want them you can explain to them how you begged for me to come inside your tight little cunt."

I was in a state of shock, unable to comprehend how he was capable of making such cruel, licentious words. Each one made my body shake, and he kept himself inside me longer with each motion to extend the feeling. I ached at the way he filled me, desperately clinging to my own stomach where I could feel him.

"Good luck thinking about anyone else while I run down your thighs," he said before punctuating it with a firm, unforgiving, "you fucking bitch."

With that, he finally moved his hand, but it was not a merciful action. His fingers rubbed in the mess of our bodies, then dragged the wetness back to my clit, pressing harder than he ever had before. My head was still swimming from his language, and I thankfully didn't have to use my words. He was very capable of figuring out my body language himself.

I could feel the way the heat coiled in my stomach, the tension building as his mouth ran along my neck. Once he attached himself to one spot, driving into me at a brutal pace, I felt the energy shift and begin to blossom. Feeling the way my muscles quivered around him, he stopped his kisses, groaning loudly in my ear.

"Fuck, little girl," he continued to moan, his thrusts faltering as I tried to coax his orgasm out of him. It seemed to be what he was waiting for. Unable to contain the shrill cry that tore from my chest as his arousal filled me, I tried to pull away from him. But I couldn't, his hands holding me down and his hips rocking as deep as they could possibly move inside of me.

Exhausted, I tried to move away from him once his movements stilled. However, in another surprising move he slid out just to slam back into me again.

I whimpered from the overstimulation, doubling forward as he gave a few more deep, rough thrusts before pulling out entirely.

I had no idea how, but Spencer immediately got out of bed. He left me a sweaty, desperate mess on his bed. Thankfully, he tossed me a towel to help me clean up so I wouldn't have to sleep in the puddle dripping slowly down my legs. Shaky but satisfied, I somehow managed to make it to the bathroom and clean up.

When I returned, he was still awake. He was silent, sitting up in the bed with his eyes closed and contemplative. As I shut the door, he finally noticed my presence. He turned to look at me with an awkward smile until he pat my spot on the bed.

"Come here, little girl."

A little too excited, I shuffled over with a bounce in my step. Not satisfied with simply lying next to him, I curled into his side, wrapping my arm around his waist and nuzzling my face to his chest. From there, I listened to the way his heartbeat seemed to slow down with my touch. How his muscles relaxed under me, like he had been anxiously awaiting my return the same way I had been waiting to return to him.

"You're not really a bitch," he mumbled in a quiet, sleepy voice.

I couldn't help but laugh, tilting my head up to glance at him from my position on his chest.

"I mean, I am a little bit. But I know what you mean."

He wrapped a tight arm around me, using his hand to run softly through my hair. Leaning down, he gave the top of my head a small peck. I smiled against his skin, loving the way it felt to be surrounded by him. To be safe and cared for despite all else.

"Thank you for coming here with me tonight," he said in a low volume, like the words might spook me. "You're a very special girl. I hope you know that."

I didn't know how to respond, so I stayed frozen in place. I waited to hear the rest of what he wanted to say. People have always said we're most honest at night. I wanted it to be true, to give more meaning to loaded words.

"I'm really glad I met you," was what he said.

I closed my eyes, breathing in the words that felt like a balm on my aching soul. Unable to come up with a response that wasn't terrifying, though, I sat up and crawled to him. It was my turn to return a tender kiss, this time to his lips. As we pulled apart, he still looked at me like the answers to the universe were written on my skin.

I went to kiss him again, but he stopped me with a hand on my face.

"Don't..." he instructed, breaking my heart with just one command.

But I saw the fear reflected in our eyes, the kind that was deeper than a simple rejection. It was not the fear that we might not love one another. It was the fear that we very well might one day.

Spencer said none of that, though. He left me to forever wonder if it was just me who felt it. Instead, he surrendered with a simpler, safer explanation.

"If you kiss me like that again, I won't be able to stop myself."

I didn't ask what he was stopping himself from doing. No matter how badly I wanted to. Instead, I ran the back of my fingers against his cheek and whispered in the space between us, "Make now always the most precious time. Now will never come again."

My desired outcome came true, but not quite how I wanted. He didn't kiss me deep or passionately. He kissed me soft, like my lips were made of glass. He kissed me like he was protecting me from the terrors of his mind.

"Go to sleep, little girl," he instructed gently, coaxing me back to my position on his chest as we both sunk down to lay flat on the bed. "Picard can wait."

Laying there, next to what I was convinced was an actual human angel, I gave myself permission to drift off into sleep, hoping that my dreams could be half as good as reality.

That didn't happen.

I wasn't sure what time it was when I woke up, but it was still dark outside, so it couldn't have been too long after we'd fallen asleep. Spencer had turned away from me at some point. That wasn't strange or entirely surprising, but I noticed a strange sound from his side of the bed that made my hair stand on edge and my stomach churn.

It was... crying.

"Spencer?" I asked as quiet as I could. When he didn't respond, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder in the hope that it would be an easier transition to the waking word.

But his body still jerked under my touch, and he sat up much too quickly before grabbing his face in both hands. It wasn't until then that he noticed, drawing his hands back slowly and inspecting the wetness he found on his fingertips.

"Hey, Spencer, are you okay?"

He didn't answer.

Suddenly extremely worried, I brought both of my hands to his arms and pulled him closer to me.

He still didn't answer.

"Were you having a nightmare?"

So many red flags were burning through my brain, and I didn't know what to do with the information in front of me. I just wanted to help him.

"I... I must have been. I'm sorry," he said when he finally spoke. He wiped at his tears like he could erase what I had already seen. Moving his hands away, careful to keep my touch as non-threatening as possible, I wiped his still falling tears away with my thumb.

"Why are you sorry, Spencer?"

"I... don't know."

It was an honest, but terrifying answer. A quickly completed checklist of a horror I was deeply familiar with. A reality that I wouldn't wish it on anyone in the world. Especially not him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he replied with a force so strong I thought the word was physically painful for him to say.

"Okay," I reassured him, "We don't have to."

He wasn't laying back down. He wasn't moving at all. It was like he was somewhere else entirely.

I moved closer to him, placing a hand on his back to gently rub circles and another on his lap. I offered the only thing I could think to help him in that moment.

"Do you want me to hold you?"

His eyes were fixated on my hand on his lap, his breathing slowly regulating the longer we sat like this.

Still, he halfway refused, "It's okay."

Raising my hand again, I ran it through his hair before guiding him to look at me with a tentative smile.

"You're not a burden, Spencer. I want to."

The tears were falling again, albeit slower and with his mouth curved ever so slightly. I tried to give him the calmest reassurance I could. A soft glow in my eyes that burned with the affection and comfort I desperately  wanted to provide.

"Come here, love," I said as I motioned to me.

Spencer dutifully followed. Soon his head was on my chest, my hand curling his hair around my fingers. He hugged my waist like I was the only thing keeping him here.

And I laid there with him, trying not to think about the way his tears wet my skin. Hoping that, for now, it would be enough for him to get some sleep.

A mop of curly brown hair was the first thing I saw when I woke up to the shine of the sun through the curtains. I smiled, but only until I remembered why he was on my chest.

It was obvious that he had barely slept, his muscles continuing to persistently twitch in their paranoid state. When I went to pet his head again, he stirred under me, pulling himself closer to me the same way he had before.

I didn't want to think about what had happened, but I knew I had to. Normal people don't wake up crying from a nightmare, and they certainly don't get painfully defensive when it happens.

I hadn't known practically anything about his life before. What he had been through, or whether he'd told anyone at all. I hadn't even known if he'd anyone to tell.

I was painfully reminded that he was not the superhero I made him out to be in my head. He was just a man, trying his hardest to do more good in the world than all the evil combined. That was an impossible task, though. He was doomed to fail.

His ears must have been burning, because the longer I thought about it, the more he woke up. Eventually he was entirely alert, sitting up and removing himself from the position we'd assumed for the past several hours.

I was surprised to remember what it felt like to be able to breathe without the weight of him on top of me. I was even more surprised to feel my chest felt heavier in his absence.

"Good morning," I mumbled, watching as he effortlessly got out of bed and began to get ready.

He seemed embarrassed, but he really shouldn't have been.

"Did you get any sleep?"I asked.

Spencer ran his hands through his hair before he turned back to me, a smile on his face like nothing was wrong.

"No," he sighed, "This brat woke me up at 2 AM and insisted I sleep with her."

It was nice to know he was still capable of joking but concerning to see that he was so good at compartmentalizing. I laughed along with him, nonetheless, sliding out of the bed to join him in getting dressed.

"What a bitch," I said with a smirk.

As hard as it was to pretend like the night before hadn't happened, I knew that he wasn't ready to talk about it. Heaven knew it would have been much worse to burn the bridge then. At least if I built the trust now, he might be willing to talk about it later.

"You know, I wasn't actually going to tell you to come over last night," Spencer announced.

The 360 of the conversation took me by surprise, and I blinked rapidly to try and reorient myself.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm glad you did. But I was actually going to ask you if you're free tonight."

Spencer was nothing if not an emotional rollercoaster demanding passengers before 10AM. Ready to roll bright and fuckin' early.

"Yeah, I am. If you're still wondering," I answered in place of the multitude of questions I hadn't been ready to ask yet. Questions like, why was he wondering? Why did he need to schedule this? Was this another 'not-a-date' date?

"I wanted to take you somewhere," he mentioned casually, finally fully dressed while I still struggled to put on my clothes.

"Where?"

"It's a surprise," he said with raised eyebrows, like he was so very proud of himself.

I'd let him have that one, but only because he was so damn cute.

"Fine. That means I have to go home to get cleaned up first, then."

He seemed only a little disappointed by that, but overall acquiesced. I was a little sad about it, too, but remained confident in the old adage that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Besides, I wanted to look cute for my surprise.

We hadn't talked much before I left. I could tell he was still struggling with coming to terms with what he'd accidentally revealed to me in the middle of the night.

Honestly, it was a good thing I left. The desire to talk about it was overwhelming, and some things are better left unsaid...

For now, I promised myself. Just for now.

—————————————————

Spencer came to pick me up without a hitch. When I climbed into his car, I fully expected him to not tell me where we were going. I was right; he didn't. Of course, after about 30 minutes I recognized the route we were going. When I'd graciously pointed it out to him with increasingly less subtle suggestions, he still refused to give me a single hint.

That was, until we pulled into Observatory parking lot.

"I've never been here before!" I squeaked. My excitement had been obvious enough with the embarrassing crack, and Spencer's interest in my enthusiasm only grew.

He was looking at me with that soft, slightly saccharine smile.

"I figured. You aren't nerdy enough to go by yourself," he chuckled. The genuineness behind the sound made the already excited butterflies in my stomach begin to swarm.

"Hey, I can be cultured too, you know," I still corrected with the worst posh accent you've ever heard.

With a teasing smile on his face, the stupid man chose to look away rather than to admit his honest reaction to the statement.

Asshole, I thought, only to be proven wrong seconds later.  Forever a gentleman, Spencer joined me on my side of the car and took utmost care and attention to help me out from my seat.

It felt strange, to adorn his arm like something beautiful as we gazed at the stars together. I tried not to think about it, but wondered just how far he was willing to risk being seen with me in an undoubtedly romantic setting.

"Isn't this place usually closed to the public? I know they have limited general admission days," I asked, despite already knowing the answer. I just wanted to see if my hunch was correct.

"Yeah, I might have called in a favor or two."

Fuck, was my first thought. The next twelve thoughts, however, were all reiterations of 'Don't get your hopes up.'

My grip on his arm tightened, but he didn't seem to mind. I'd guessed that his nonchalance was entirely due to the private nature of the excursion, but I wasn't going to ask, and I certainly wouldn't complain. I was happy enough that he'd brought me, even if he wasn't ready to admit why. I could be patient. Sometimes.

Once inside, Spencer knew exactly where to go. I watched in awe at how many people knew who he was, and how much they looked up to him. While I had also always been impressed by him, it'd become easy to forget just how impressive he was when all the time we'd spent together was so far away from the rest of the world.

But Spencer's quiet humility certainly wasn't an issue that night. He spent nearly two hours walking me through what ended up being essentially all the stars in the sky. Much like the museum, it consisted of me adoring both the content of his words and the man himself.

He told me the story of the vain Queen Cassiopeia and her doting husband Cepheus, still holding each other in the stars millennia later. He spoke enthusiastically and with no sense of pacing. Half the time my eyes left the telescope, turning instead to marvel at the way he moved his hands and fidgeted with his hair as his voice tumbled out of him like it couldn't be contained.

It was just the two of us in the room when he finished, the dim lights and quiet ambiance catching up with me as I stared at him with all the reverence in the universe above us. He eventually finished his thoughts on Perseus and Andromeda, and I could tell by the look on his face that their love story meant something to him.

"You're quite the romantic, Dr. Reid."

He seemed surprised by the sentiment, like it was something he'd never heard before, and now he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. So, he simply laughed awkwardly and moved closer to peer into the telescope.

Whether it was because he felt a stronger connection to the extraterrestrial, or because he simply didn't want me to see that he was blushing, I didn't mind either way. A few less seconds under the scrutiny of his gaze would do my heart well.

"Not sure many people would use that word," he said under his breath when he worked up the courage to speak.

"Well, I did," I replied much more confidently.

He was smiling but trying to hide it the same as the pink hue to his cheeks.

"You said you were 14 when you went to college, right?" I said with narrow eyes, trying to read him from under the large machine.

"Yeah," he responded with an equal dose of caution, "... why?"

"Probably didn't go to prom then, huh?"

His answer was obvious from the way his entire body jumped. Knocking his head on the telescope as he rushed to give an answer, all his mouth would produced was a long, dumb, "Uhhh."

I knew he was about to try to run away. Before he could, I stopped him. With both hands on his arm, I kept him close. Eventually, his muscles gave in and accepted my embrace.

"Come on; dance with me," I begged.

He looked around the room for an excuse. There was no one there, just the two of us on arguably the most heartwarming date I've ever been on in my life.

"There's no music," he scrambled, eventually admitting, "aaand I can't dance."

Ignoring the pitter-pattering of a childish, lovesick heart, I laughed.

"I can teach you, Dr. Reid."

We both knew he wasn't getting out of this one. As I hopped down from the stool, I revealed my secret weapon from my pocket. I pulled up a playlist that I knew would suit him and the setting, and I held out my hand in an invitation that couldn't be refused.

"I have all the world of music at my fingertips. Now I just need you. "

Spencer groaned, but behind it all I saw an undeniable happiness. When he put his hand in mine, it too felt like warmth and safety. I took it with an even brighter grin, immediately bringing him closer to sway slowly to the music coming from my phone now seated on the stool.

The acoustics of the room let the music flow through, and within moments we had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. My cheek rested against his chest and I couldn't help but laugh.

"You lied to me, Dr. Reid. You definitely know how to dance."

"Okay, but does it really count if you've only ever done it with your mom?" he asked.

I threw my head back as I laughed, and he joined me. The two of us shamelessly filled the large room with a warmth not entirely unlike a far away star.

"Don't laugh at me!" he pouted, but I think he actually enjoyed the sound.

"I'm sorry," I whined, "you're just so fucking cute I don't know how to handle it."

Finally able to stifle the joyous sounds, I looked up at him with even more fascination than I'd showed the stars. I'm not sure what I had expected, but it wasn't what I'd found. Because Spencer's eyes were like mirrors facing the sun; reflecting the passions I spewed so carelessly right back at me.

"There are over a million words in the English language, and I still can't think of a single combination to explain how I feel about you."

Just like that, he'd stolen my breath and my sense. My smile fell into a look of smitten shock, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't convince my heart to fall back into its rhythm.

"I-I'm surprised you don't know the exact number," I said with an awkward chuckle.

"Well, some estimate that it's 1,025,109, but new words are created constantly, and it would depend on what actually counts as a new word. Not to mention the different dialects, words that have fallen out of common use, or words that may be used for entirely different purposes despite being the same."

I raised my eyebrows, not at all surprised that he had an answer, but excited to hear it, nonetheless.

"But it doesn't matter," he whispered, impervious to just how much he was breaking my heart. "Because no matter the number, I know it won't be enough."

My eyes lit up like the stars we had just spent hours staring at, and I wondered if he could tell. He must have. Because his hand on my hip pulled me closer, and our hands intertwined as our pace slowed to a stop. Our breath was unsteady as he came closer to me, pausing just before our lips touched.

We shared the oxygen between us, daring the other to do what we both know we shouldn't.

So I did, leaning up to kiss him as my hand slid up his arm and around his neck. His hesitation melted into the embrace, our tongues gently sharing space in an entirely new way.

I thought to the millions of stars in the sky, realizing that I shared Spencer's skepticism of an unknown number. Because no matter how many stars there were, I knew there would never be enough to outshine that moment between the two of us.

It was not a hurried or excited kiss. It was an amorous, amazing promise of a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that they wrote about in Corinthians. It was patient and kind. It was not proud nor self-seeking. Spencer's free hand held my face against his; the way they wrote that love always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres.

Did he feel the way he was kissing me? Because I had.

I felt it like a storm, the breeze blowing the air from my lungs and breaking down the walls around me. I held onto him and this moment, scared of what this meant for us. How could I pretend like we were just friends when I shook for days at his touch?

That was why I was the one to end the kiss, looking down away from him as I did. A soft, defeated chuckle as I took a deep breath. When our eyes met again, I lowered my arms to his chest, listening to the soft tunes still floating through the room.

"We should go home now," I whispered.

He was reading my reactions; I could feel it. And in doing so, he had lowered his own walls too far. I could see them behind his eyes.

My voice shook as I continued, "... before you do something else to try and make me fall in love with you."

Spencer didn't look scared as he replied with a cheeky little grin, "Why, is it working?"

I almost passed out at the way his eyes softened at my goofy smile.

"I'm kidding," he immediately followed.

I rolled my eyes at the absolute bullshit of a lie. I tried to play it off like it was nothing, but my heart felt like it would fall out of my chest. I tried not to think about it too hard as we made our way back to the car.

As he helped me in, I realized that we were really going to continue acting like none of that just happened. I tried to think of how that kiss we shared could be written off, but I couldn't. That was not the kind of kiss between friends. It was not the kind of kiss between strangers.

It was a kiss of the kind we both implicitly promised not to talk about.

Once the trip home had begun, I gathered the courage to tread lightly.

"So, what was the fantasy for tonight?" I innocently asked.

A little confused, he glanced over at me, careful not to take his eyes off the road.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've found each time we're together there's some sexual component," I chuckled. "This is pretty far from home, and you seemed very into it. I was just wondering what inspired this trip."

I was trying to avoid obviously ogling his reactions by shifting my eyes from him every few seconds. I had leaned against the door, surprised by just how tired I really was. He was doing that thing where he weighed his words again.

Eventually, he shrugged. That softness returning to his features from before, he began, "To be honest, (y/n)..."

Please, don't break my heart, I begged to that beautiful man.

Actually turning his head entirely to me, he spoke through a delicate smile, "I just wanted to look at the stars with you."

Goddammit.

The stars returned to my eyes, and I could see them reflected in his. My heart sped up to prepare for the panic as I realized that it was definitely too late for us. Because his efforts were working. They had been working all along, and I never tried to stop them.

As I drifted off to sleep in the comfortable silence of our company, I couldn't ignore the obvious:

I think I'm in love with Spencer Reid and I think he's starting to love me, too.

But we couldn't just love each other in isolation, and I wasn't sure he was ready to make that leap with me. In fact, I knew he wasn't. I still knew basically nothing about him, and he knew virtually nothing about me. How could it be then, that our souls felt so at home with each other?

Which would hurt more? Finding out he didn't love me, or that he did... and just wishes he didn't?

—————————————————

| Part 6 |

[daddywanken0bi]

Breaking and Entering

gif is not mine

word count: 2.5k

author: Allie

warnings: smut, slight master kink, female reader, idk it’s sex but it’s pretty mild

a/n: Sorry it’s been so long since we last posted. The beginning of the semester has been insane but don’t worry, we’re cooking up some fun stuff for y’all. Hope you like this one!

Breaking and Entering

You weren’t sneaking in.

Sure, you were entering his room uninvited - never mind that he was off world on a mission. But it wasn’t like you were breaking and entering. He wouldn’t have given you a code if he didn’t want you to use it, right? And you did everything in your power to be discrete about it, too. You waited until the middle of the night, you checked the hallway before you turned the corner, you wore your hood to cover your face. You even brought a journal with you to fortify your alibi in case you ran into anyone.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you’d say, “I thought I’d go for a walk and do some journalling.”

It wasn’t that far from the truth, anyway. It was true you planned to write in your journal eventually. It was true you had been walking. And it was true you couldn’t sleep. Sleep was nearly unattainable every night Obi Wan was away. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw visions of him overrun by droids, or flattened by tankards, or gunned down in his ship. No matter how much he proved his skill and strength, you still feared the worst whenever he left. It was detrimental.

But you’d learned to cope. You found writing down all your thoughts helped release them from your mind. You also found staying active helped distract your brain from these horrible images. Something about rushing adrenaline and aching muscles and shortness of breath eased your worries. Not to mention, it kept you in shape for when Obi Wan needed a sparring partner. Although, sparring with him always lead to love-making in one way or another. It kept you in shape for that, too.

However, when the sun set and ink spilled its way across the Coruscant sky, your coping mechanisms tended to prove obsolete. Curse your creativity because it always conjured new ways for your lover to perish. You trusted your warrior whole-heartedly to come home to you. But your head, well, it had other ideas.

That’s why you found yourself navigating the halls of the Jedi temple in the earliest hours of the morning. You held off almost the entire time he was gone. You told yourself you were strong enough to make it through the night on your own. But on this night, you caved. Your day had been particularly burdensome, with difficult diplomats and insufferable insurgents - life in law enforcement was far from glamorous. When you returned home, you craved the late night conversations over freshly brewed tea that Obi Wan offered on days like this.

So you thought, perhaps spending the night in his bed would soothe your suffering. He wasn’t due back until the following evening. You would go in the middle of the night and leave before he returned. Nobody would have to know.

You opened the door as silently as you could, wincing when the duristeel clamped shut behind you. You surveyed the room as you removed your cloak, leaving you only in your silk shift. It was familiar, yet you’d only been here twice before. You still felt like you might be caught, painfully aware of how criminal it was for you to be here. Partially due to the consequences your affair would have on your careers, but mostly because you were in Obi Wan’s quarters, uninvited. It felt like you were decimating sacred ground.

Nevertheless, your lovesick heart drew you to the circular bed at the back the room, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Coruscant traffic. With your cloak draped over the sofa and your journal discarded on the dining table, your tentative feet padded their way to the welcoming mattress. Your knees hit the soft blankets and you crawled up to the plush pillows. You were enveloped by spicy, earthy, sweet, a smell so distinctly Obi Wan, and you allowed yourself to splay out over the comforter.

You dipped your toes into the smooth, cream-colored sheets, tension escaping your pores with every inch you pulled them up your legs. The pillows swallowed your head as you curled up under the covers, and for the first time in days, you were asleep within seconds.

**********

You couldn’t have slept more than a few hours when a ghostly graze tickled across your cheek. Your eyes fluttered, curious to see the sensation that brought you out of the bliss of sleep. Sparkling blue eyes and a halo of golden hair stood over you, and you thought for a moment that you might still be dreaming.

“What are you doing here, little one?” The ethereal being asked.

Then realization hit you.

“Oh, Obi Wan!” You scrambled to your knees to meet him at eye level. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me!”

“Darling, it’s alright-“

“I didn’t think you’d be back for another several hours!”

“We finished up early.” His hands immediately find your lower back. You glance to the window beside him. It was still dark, but the stars were fading. It must have been very early in the morning.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t sleep and I missed you so much, I thought this would help-“

“Shhh, you don’t have to explain, dear one.” He brought his hand up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, then letting it rest under your jaw. “I planned to see you first thing upon my return, anyway.”

You relaxed your shoulders, relived he wasn’t cross with you. Yet your arms remained at your sides.

“I came uninvited…”

“Darling,” he sighed, humorously exasperated, “I gave you a code, didn’t I?”

“But you were away-“

“You still had a code. Besides,” he fiddled with the minuscule strap of your shift, innocently letting it fall off your shoulder. “I like the idea of you waking up in my bed.”

The hand on your shoulder slowly smoothed its way down your clavicle. Then between your breasts, across your stomach. It twisted, and reluctantly returned to your back. Your breath caught as you watched his eyes follow his hand, it pricked goosebumps into your skin.

“Even when I’m away.” He added, his eyes returning to yours.

“But you’re home now,” You said, snaking your arms up to land behind his head. “And that’s all that matters.”

He smiled warmly, hands still caressing up and down your back. You take this time to study his face. You traced the lines in his forehead, thumbed the crows feet by his eyes and settled your hand at his cheek. Despite the adoration in his eyes, he looked older, weary.

“You must be exhausted.” You murmured, and his eyes closed in agreement. “Come, lie with me, Obi.”

A chuckle puffed through his nose.

“Dearest, I’m filthy.”

“I don’t care,” You cling to him, pressing your chest to his, ghosting your lips. “I like it when you’re filthy.”

A groan emitted from low in his chest and no longer did he stroke his hands over your skin. Instead, his fingertips dug craters into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer.

“I’ve missed you so much, little one.” He hovered over your lips.

You hummed, a thought danced in your mind. You sat back on your heels, leaving Obi Wan wide-eyed, confused. Through your eyelashes, you gazed expectantly at him, wordlessly telling him to undress.

“Show me, then,” You purred, slowly pulling at the silk of your shift to reveal more skin. “Show me how much you missed me.”

His eyes were fire, ablaze with a passion you’d only ever seen on the battlefield. He kept his eyes trained on you as he toed off his boots, watching you drag the sheer fabric over your head, leaving you bare. He raked over your body, swallowing hard. You sat up again and splayed your hands across his broad chest. He watched you intently as your hands circled his shoulders and smoothed down his arms. You took his right hand in both of your own.

“Touch me, Obi Wan,” You brought his hand to your breast. He ran his thumb over your nipple, watching it harden at his touch. You gasped and your head lulled between your shoulder blades. Your response was all the encouragement he needed. He encased you in his other arm, mouth ravenous on your neck, hand still massaging your breast. After days of nothing, his attention to you was almost too much. You tugged at his hair, unsure of what else to do with your hands, too lost in Obi Wan to even think.

His lips carved a path from your neck to your mouth, kissing you with a frivolity that only came from two lovers reunited. He kissed you with everything he had. You felt every moment he thought of you while he was away, every instance he reminded himself to return home to you, every desire he couldn’t quench without you there. And you met his intensity. You poured every worry into his mouth, every doubt, every qualm. But also all of the love you could possibly give to another being - you wanted to give it all to him.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” You mumbled against his lips. He chuckled.

“I agree.” He kissed you once more before undoing his belt and casting it to the side. He shed his tunic and pulled his undershirt over his head while you worked on the buttons of his trousers. Once undressed, his hands found your waist again, albeit gentler this time. He gingerly drew you close to him, pressed a tender kiss to your swollen lips. You tangled your arms around his shoulders and felt the press of his erection on your stomach. He cherished you, cradled you as he laid you back on the bed. You let your eyes close as you kissed and kissed and kissed him. You were so wrapped up in his mouth that you barely noticed his hand sneak down to the pooling between your legs.

But when his thumb found your clit, you noticed. Your eyes flew open and you gasped, Obi Wan snickered at your surprise. His mouth morphed into a smirk as his thumb started circling, slowly, slowly. You screwed your eyes shut and gnawed on your bottom lip. Your knees constricted your lover’s abdomen as he stared at you with unadulterated admiration. He reveled in your whimpers, astonished that he, of all beings, had the privilege of pleasuring you.

“Obi,” You wined, “I need you-mmph-I need you inside me.”

“Darling, it’s been so long. I won’t last.”

“Neither will I.”

He removed his thumb and the loss of contact provoked a sigh from your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by two of his fingers curling inside you. Your jaw unhinged, the sensation absolutely overwhelming.

“I forget how wet you are for me.” He breathed into your ear. “And you’re even tighter than I remember. Did you touch yourself at all while I was gone?”

“No,” You moaned, “Not once.”

“Not once?” He smirked, the cocky bastard. “You waited for me?”

“Yes,” You looked him dead in the eyes, “Master.”

You didn’t think his pupils could dilate more, but somehow his sparkling blue eyes blew black with desire. Suddenly, he yanked his fingers from your pussy and shoved them in your mouth.

“Lick them clean for your Master.” He demanded, watching you closely has you hollowed your cheeks and swirled your tongue.

If you knew using his title would elicit such a reaction, then you would have used it a lot sooner. You got the idea from Padme in a conversation about your Jedi boyfriends. You confided in her one night that Obi was gone, asked her how she dealt with being away from Anakin for so long (everybody pretended not to know, but everybody knew). After a few attempts at denying it, she finally caved. It turned into a long dialogue about sexual escapades and romantic gestures.

“You should try calling him by his title,” She suggested after your third kettle of Obi Wan’s favorite tea, “Anakin looses his mind whenever I do.”

It turned out she was right. You would have to thank her later. But for now, you were too preoccupied with Obi Wan’s fingers in your mouth and dick teasing your folds.

“Tell me what you want, little one.” He removed his fingers and planted a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You bit at his bottom lip, encouraging a growl from him.

“Fuck me, Obi Wan,” You pleaded. “I want you to fuck me into the next galaxy.”

The sound that came out of your mouth was nothing short of animalistic. He rammed into you without any warning and didn’t give you any time to adjust.

“That’s right. You take me so well, little one.” He pounded into you.

The force hiked your leg over his shoulder and burned phantom hands into your flesh. Your body ignited, Obi Wan exuded so much energy, it radiated into your pores. You’d lost any and all touch with reality, reduced to a moaning mess. All you see, all you feel, all you taste, all you know is your master, your lover, your Obi Wan.

“You’re so good for me,” He panted above you. “Waiting for me to return, calling me master, taking my cock like it’s made for you.”

“Fucking hell,” You cursed, “I’m so close.”

“Me too, darling, me too.”

The phantom hands focused on your clit, furthering the already tightly-wound coil in your core. The air clicked and sparked with energy, the Force encouraging, applauding your union.

“Together,” Obi Wan breathed, you nodded.

“Together.”

You force your eyes to remain open, despite gravity weighing them down. He pushed into you once, twice, three times more then-

“Oh, Master!-”

“Maker!”

Warmth spread through your body as Obi Wan released inside you. You shook with your own release, pleasure coursing through your veins as he collapsed on top of you (careful not to harm you, of course, ever the gentleman). He remained inside you while his breath returned, his heartbeat slowed. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he nuzzled his nose beneath your ear, whispering sweet nothings as you returned from euphoria. Before long, you felt the adrenaline leave his body and the weight of his exhaustion reappear, a reminder that he still needed to recover from his mission. You pushed gently on his shoulders, a silent request to release you.

“‘M sorry, darling.” He mumbled as he reluctantly pushed himself off of you. You winced as he pulled out, tender and unused to the feeling. He rolled off to your side and snuggled you close, the hot breath of his nose tickling your neck.

“Come on, Master,” You nudged, “Lets get in the shower.”

“Hmmm why?” He groaned.

“You’re filthy, remember?” You teased.

“Right, I’m the filthy one.”

“I’m not the one with a Master kink.”

He growled and nipped at your ear, making you laugh.

“Let’s wash up, Obi” You combed his scalp with your fingers. “Then we can spend the rest of the day in your bed.”

He lifted himself onto his forearm to meet your eyes and tucked a stray hair behind your ear with his free hand.

“You can spend the rest of your life in my bed, dear one,” He was sincere, “if that’s what you so desire.”

[hypermanga]

Choices, choices (Eric x reader)

Requested by: @rachelcarroll1819​

Request: Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is the daughter of Jeanine Matthews and she is divergent and bff with four and in a relationship with Eric please and thank you.

Word Count: 1628

Warnings: Cuss words and perhaps Eric being a little OOC? ~

~~~~~~

Your mother's face was in every Chicago's screen, her scrutinizing gaze that you had gotten to know so well reached to any corner of the city, always looking out for them.

Divergents. 

To her, a threat to the faction system. To you, someone beyond who could guide humanity to a better tomorrow, one where you were not defined by your aptitudes, but the actions of your everyday life. Like it had just been before the war.

It was weird for you to disagree with your mother, but ever since the aptitude test you started to percept the world with another lense, a divergent's one; You had become what your mother despised the most, and you knew about her plans, so you decided to make the most rational decision: transfer to Dauntless. There you could prepare for whatever your mother had prepared for your kind and all the "collateral victims", as she put it. 

For what you didn't prepare was meeting who could possibly be the love of your life: he was caring and well-read in private, but displayed a brash, cold and sometimes sadistic behaviour towards Initiates. You had met him after entering Dauntless, being Max who had greeted you at the roof.

Four, your best friend since two or three when you made the bold choice of sassying Eric after he had told you for an hour long that you were not going to pass the cut "Got some fire in you" The former Abnegation boy had said, patting your back before letting Eric do whatever he was about to do. After all, he was a leader and Four was a subordinate.

As for Eric, you still weren't able to pinpoint the exact moment you fell for him: perhaps it was the time he had gone out of his way to help you improve your position to perfect your punches, or perhaps one night where he caught you doing a stroll in the night and joined you, having a long conversation,...There were so many occasions that had made you fall a little bit more for him, but you considered it more of a crush than anything else. 

As soon as Initiation had finished and you were asked to become a trainer alongside Four you couldn't be happier, but Four outdid himself telling you how he had heard Eric talking to Max about how he felt about you "Today's not April Fools I recall" "That's because it is not. Be careful, he can be dangerous" " I know how to take care of myself. Remember, I was once an Erudite like him, not some lovesick dove" 

But you fell. And hard.

Sadly all hell broke loose, as the alliance between Dauntless and Erudite stepped into the light. Tobias and you decided to escape Dauntless alongside Tris Prior, his girlfriend and Initiation acquaintance for you.  You could still remember the train that had brought you to one place you never expected to be living in. Amity: all that peace serum and smiling all day didn't sit right to you, it felt as if they wanted to evade everything bad thing that was going on around them as an excuse to not intervene. 

Johanna had been really kind (ironically) letting you stay, you would give her that, but working in the fields was not made for you. Nor cooking. Nor being happy all the damn time, which seemed to be the base point of your relationship with Tris. She seemed like a nice girl and really in love with Tobias, so you approved of their relationship. Now, for the other two companions, Peter and Caleb, you were skeptical about the first after he had gotten into a fight during lunchtime with Tris. 

It had been another tranquil morning when Dauntless trucks pulled up the path that lead to Amity, Eric leading them and ready to hunt Divergents for Jeanine. Ever since you'd escaped he had delved into his work, leaving any kind of feelings he had harboured for you during Initiation aside: he had taken interest in you at first because of your sassiness towards him as well as your closeness with Four: he had spent so many nights thinking about your determination to pass Initiation, how you laughed at the things Four said...It made him sick to say the least. But then he'd gotten the chance to become closer to you, and even though he had tried to fool himself that he was doing that to piss off Four, any fool could see he had also fallen just as hard as her.

'Falling for the boss's daughter, great fucking job Eric' He had mutered to himself in between punches 'And someone who has taken the oposite side in this conflict, you just won grand prize Eric' Punch 'She chose Four over you' Punch 'She might now see you as a soulless monster' One last punch before he broke the bag, sand spilling everywhere, making him huff in disdain.

Those same thoughts threatened to cloud his vision now, so he pushed them aside to concentrate on his task: hunting those damned Divergents. His team had gathered everyone in the dining room before he and Max decided to check for anyone hidden,starting with the stables and Johanna's office upstairs.

Just like you, he had a special disdain for Amity: problems had to be tackled,not ignored. Zooming out as Johanna greated them, he just checked her with his device to list her off before moving on to the stables.

As soon as you saw those trucks, Tris, Tobias, Caleb and you made a run for it, the three hiding in Johanna's office and you in the stables "I'll catch up with you!" You said to them, ushering them away. You blended with the shadows as best you could, for you knew if someone checked your divergence percentatge you were done.

It seemed like time was going too slow, before a figure stepped inside the stables. Eric. 'Play hide and seek with a Dauntless leader they said. It will be fun they said' you thought to yourself. Even now as your enemy, you still found him just as handsome as the first day you'd seen him.

You felt your heart stop as he walked up and down the stables, stopping just to pet some horses, which in all honesty you found adorable, before his eyes fixated in your hiding spot "I'm surprised you didn't run with the others" He smirked, grasping your arm "I'm Dauntless, I don't run from things. But I'm damn sure that I will not stay while you and my mother kill Divergents for...What purpose exactly? A system! A fucking system! You're killing innocent people who cannot be just one thing, is that a crime Eric?" He looked at you coldly, unaffected "You are a Dauntless, and an Erudite as well as I was! I'm pretty sure you can understand there's a lack of logic! What has she promised you: Fame? Honor? A high position? Nothing but empty promises bathed in blood Eric!"

As you freed from his grasp, which was lacking force, you balled your fists "Please Eric. I know you can understand...Please, don't do this" Your pleas fell short as Eric brought out the machine that analyzed your divergence percentage. You looked at him defiantly "Go on, Eric" The venom-coated way that his name left your lips made him almost flinch, but what broke his façade was the 'Divergent, 60%' that left his device.

Chuckling lowly "Checkmate" You held your arms in surrender, smiling "Get it over with. I don't want to live in a dictatorship, worse my mum's" You grabbed Eric's gun giving it to him and, slowly and steady, brought it to your heart.

He felt numb, in a crossroad: he had a mission, but there you were in your Amity's clothes as beautiful as ever, looking at him with a dim hope in your more lifeless eyes as the seconds passed.

Dropping his device, he walked past you, punching a wall "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" You knew he had quite the temper, but you knew that in this particular occasion he was not just boosting out, but battling his own demons. He kept punching the wood, blood starting to drool from his fists "Eric stop!Look at me!" He slumped on his knees in defeat"First my family, then Initiation, now this" He sniffed "Why can't anything go the way I want?" Grabbing his face in between your hands, you also dropped to your knees "Because we can't control everything, I wish I could myself..." You shrugged sadly "But our choices and attitudes can change our perspective of things, and even their consequences" "You always know what to say, now do you?" He chuckled "Well, this has brought your attention. Now you decide if it is for better or for worse" You smiled and, as he looked into your eyes, saw his decision made up "I will not give up someone who truly believes that something good can come out of me"

Now it was his turn to grab your face, approaching it to his as your lips connected in a soft kiss. It was not the kind of kiss that you would expect from Eric, all rough edges, but the from the true Eric, that boy who has felt rejected all his life and has hid all his fears behind a tough demeanor.

As you parted Eric stood up, offering you his hand which you accepted gladly "Now where to (Y/N)?"

"To the battlefield"

~~~~~~~

@imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @beltz2016 @readsalot73 @kenzieam @captstefanbrandt @sserpente @book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[peakyxtommy]

The First Two Years - Wedding Series AU

Summary: Tommy reflecting back on his first two years of his relationship with the reader as he prepares to ask your father for his blessing to marry you. (Modern AU , Bit OOC) | 3.3K | 

Warnings: Slight Violence, Death , Mostly Fluff

He knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. While he sat in his main office, taking a rare break, he was staring at the engagement ring he brought a month ago. Nobody knew except for him, despite Polly having some suspicion. It made him feel giddy on the inside, lovesick, but it was the one thing he was sure of, that he truly wanted. You. 

He was sure and trusted you more than anyone. He knew you loved him, but there was always that fear in the back of his head that he wasn’t good enough for you. He’d enjoyed you for this long in his life that any second it could be taken away. His heart was the one thing he was willing to take a risk on because he only found solace with you. It was all the little moments that added up and floated to his mind, that ended up making him come to the conclusion. 

The night he first met you, you were having drinks in the Scarfes bar in London with Ada and mutual acquaintances. The group of you talking about an upcoming weekend trip you were planning to take and the woes of university life a second time through. You were yourself the whole evening, even when he came to disrupt the conversation stealing Ada away to talk quick business. As he watched you interact with his sister and your group of friends for the remainder of the evening, he noticed the confidence that rolled off your shoulders, the laughter that left your mouth, and the way you said a simple goodnight to him on the way out the building. 

He knew he had to meet you again. It wasn’t hard when he would drop by Ada’s unexpectedly or find a way to sit next to you when the lot of them went out to drink at the Garrison or Bars in London. He learned little things about you observing you through those conversations. How sometimes you would sit quiet and observe the conversation from time to time. When you spoke, you spoke with purpose. You weren’t afraid to speak your mind either. 

You played hard to get, like a game of cat and mouse. You were stubborn and strong-willed. When he first asked out you, you were shocked to say the least. You knew about the legitimate parts of his business, only hearing tall tales of the rest, but it didn’t make you not believe the underground side, but cautioned it. You heard rumors of his reputation of him screwing women over just to get what he wanted and the hotel he would go to get his sexual desires met. 

Those should have been red flags, but on the other side he was a high esteem family business man and OBE. You couldn’t deny how good looking he was and the chemistry you felt between your small encounters. You denied him the first two times as you were a busy graduate student and worked part time. You were also still heartbroken from your last long-term relationship, not looking to start up something new. Tommy Shelby was relentless, never taking no for an answer. It was on the third try that you said yes to him, promising him one date. To not mess it up. 

The first date was smooth. He invited you to his cozy London apartment. Where you were served Spaghetti Bolognese and warm toasted garlic bread. He drank Whiskey, you red wine. Frank Sinatra playing through his record player. You shared tidbits about your childhood and university years. He shared about the hard questions you asked him about his business, wanting to hear what you thought you knew. He shared appropriately (not dishing family business or current dealings), finding it amusing. You asked what he did for fun, to which he responded with work. Both you letting out a chuckle. The conversation flowed so easily between the two of you. He drove you home a quarter to midnight and kissed you goodnight. 

He was hooked by the third date, things taking off slow as you were both busy people. Both working hard to achieve the goals you wanted to accomplish in this life. Both struggling with trust issues and hang-ups from past relationships or lack thereof on his end. Those first couple of months was blissful, being in the depths of the honeymoon phase. 

At six months you had officially met all his family and closest mates. They adored you and were fond of your relationship with him, noticing the small change in him, that they hadn’t seen since he’d been back from the war. He would make space for you in his office to complete your studies and you’d make room in your apartment for him to relax on the odd weekend off with reading in your living room, breakfast in bed, or cuddling in the morning after a passionate night together. 

You were nervous for him to meet your family as they were more traditional than his. He charms your mother as soon as he steps foot in your house. Feeding in charmingly to her mannerisms and jokes. Your father was harder to crack. You knew your father would give him a hard time. Your father played up to the best of his ability in front of your mother, but your father asked to speak to him in private. Where they discussed his business, your safety, and the seriousness of the relationship because if it was to be a waste of time, he should just cut the losses now. Thomas reassured your father well. When you asked what the two of them discussed, he simply said, “Nothing for your pretty little head to worry about.” You left it at that.   

He knew deep down for a long time, that he loved you, afraid to say those words, even though he knew five months in. 

It was eight months in on a quiet afternoon spent in your apartment. He was doing book-work at the table, collecting a stock pile of smokes in his ashtray, letting out stressful grumbles of frustration, every now and again. You were reading on the couch, sometimes sneaking small glances at him but eventually becoming restless from the silence and being indoors all day. You decided to make both of you a tea and as you sipped your tea across from him at the kitchen table, you spoke those words out into the open. You watched as his pen stopped writing, his eyes coming to meet yours. You could see the smirk on his lips and the light blush that caught his cheeks. 

“Cat got your tongue, Mr.Shelby.” You teased, as you both finished the rest of your teas in silence. He lit another cigarette, knowing that you didn’t need him to voice it aloud, as you knew in your heart through the little things he did. As you stood to get up to clean the empty dishes and empty his tray, he rose to stand in front of you. Hands grabbing your biceps, warm breath coming to your ear. 

“I love you too, (Y/N).” He whispered, removing his right hand to clasp against the back of your head, deciding to connect his warm lips to yours. Moving slow, delicate, and in sync. He pulls apart, the small smack of wet lips, leaving you both panting. He goes to his seat at the table to finish the final paperwork, not missing the tint in your cheeks and the lasting grin for the remainder of the evening. 

After a year together you still had to watch out for Lizzie, which at first did turn into a heated argument between you and him. Due to your jealousy and slight insecurity that would feed off her jealousy toward you. They had a past together, one neither of you could deny, evening knowing he didn’t treat her the greatest in that regard. The way she would sometimes pine after him, would make your blood boil, knowing it kinda fed his ego. He would love to get you ramped up to have hot heated sex. Where he would remind you you were the only one he loved and was sleeping with. 

This was an underlying “game” of the relationship, one you both fed on. Tommy being possessive of what was his and being silently jealous of men who would be fixated or try to flirt with you, some even right in front of his face. He would use his words to defend you or if you were oblivious, he would give you the silent treatment, which would annoy you to no end. If you started it which on occasion you did, (he could tell), you would enjoy being at his mercy as soon as you walked through the doors him fucking you hard until the early morning hours.

Other times, with other women, who were enamored by him, he would wash those fears away by reminding you, you were the one he would seek in the middle of the night to hold him close to sleep, the only thing on his mind during a long day, and the one he loved. 

You started helping him once a week at the company, with the books as you had an eye for crunching numbers and were detail oriented a bit more than a few others in the office. It made some of his work go faster when you were in the office, only handling the legal side of things, not wanting to involve you with the other half that came with it. That didn’t last much longer. 

Year and half you were slowly beginning to see more of the other side of the business. You knew he was in the middle of something, when you started to notice him coming home more often in bloody clothing, late mid-morning hours. He would sneak inside quietly as possible, thinking you were asleep, but you weren’t. You’d hear the shower running for a while for him to slip in next to you in bed. One night you would ask, if things were getting bad in his dealings. He would answer truthfully but not about whom he was dealing with. You started finishing up university with a security guard that would escort you wherever you went. He taught you how to shoot a gun which you only encased in your bedside table, for emergency use. You learned to only ask questions when need be and to try to worry less, enough though you both knew it wasn’t possible. 

On that unexpected day, everything almost came to a screeching halt. He was in the middle of a battle with Sabini. He told you to make sure you were with security at all times and that he made sure there was someone outside your place at all times. It was in the middle of the night that you heard the scuffle and then a bang, but it was too late as another person came breaking into your bedroom, screaming for you to get out of the bed. You didn’t have time to react before he was shoving a gun in your face, telling you to be quiet, as they rushed out to the getaway car. Your eyes not missing the pool of blood you found your security guard in. They blind folded you and you remained silent the whole way as they made a call to their boss, who organized this whole ordeal, letting him know you were in transport. 

When you got to the basement where they were holding you, they tied your legs and arms to a chair. It smelt musky down below and it was loud. They spit on, mocked, and slapped you around, all to send a message. You tried your best to stay calm, knowing Tommy would find you.

“He’s here, get ready.” You heard one of the men say. The next you knew they were moving you to another room, leaving you in the dark. Then there were gunshots firing off and loads of yelling. Then to be met with silence. It felt like forever until you heard that familiar voice again. 

“I’m right here (Y/N), I’m right here.” He reassures as he frees your arms and legs from the chair, to then take the blindfold off. You collapse into his arms sobbing, as he carries you to the back seat of his car, making sure you don’t see any of the bloodshed. 

When you arrive at his home, you’re in a state of shock and silent. He has the maids begin a bath and after your bath, he has the doctor check you out. The doctor bandages you and gives you something to help you fall asleep. 

The next couple of weeks were rough, not only for you but for your relationship. You told Tommy everything that happened when you woke up the next day, while he held you in his arms. Both of you teary together. You stayed at his place for a couple of days, as he made sure to do damage control in the media and town, and clean your apartment back to normal. 

During the night you were plagued with nightmares about your security guard and the men roughing you up, with Tommy never actually coming to save you or ending with you dying. A week after the incident you went to the security guard’s funeral. After that, you were beginning to push Tommy away, telling him you needed space. 

Your mind trying to make sense of the madness, grappling with those hard questions, while trying to stay on top of your coursework. You didn’t want to see anyone really, even avoiding your own parents for weeks on end. The only place you would willingly go would be to uni and a few counseling sessions, just to get yourself back on track, which did end up helping you. 

The only Shelby you spoke to during this time was Ada, periodically. You two were friends from the start and grew even closer due to your relationship with Tommy. She wouldn’t talk about him unless you brought him up, which wasn’t much. You both knew he was just as much a mess as you were, but both dealing with it in different manners. She helped you in a different way of opening up your frustrations, worries, and fears. 

Tommy tried his hardest not to be a mess during this time but it was hard. He drove himself harder into his company and would spend his nights drinking. He knew you were okay, as could be, as he still kept tabs on you. For the first month he would leave you voicemails, some sober, some drunk of the inner workings of his mind and heart, but he really did miss you. You listened to them, wanting nothing more than to pick up the phone and call him. 

Then the next month, you left him a voicemail, asking him for more time. You knew it wasn’t fair, but you told him at the end of the month, you would give him a final answer. You loved him, missed him, and wanted to see him just as bad.  

There was this small voice in your head that was telling you cut your losses, to go your separate ways. You knew you had to make a hard decision and a decision you would have to live with for the rest of your life. 

It was on the third month, when you both met again, at a little cafe by the Thames river. When you saw him, it almost felt like it was the first time all over again. You sat down taking in his appearance. He was wearing his glasses and was in casual clothing. He looked good for the most part, expect for the bags under his eyes, knowing you were part of the reason for them. 

“Thank you for meeting me here.” You sent a small smile his way, as the waiter arrived with tea and your favorite pastry. Heart warming that he still cared to remember. 

“So, what are we doing here (Y/N)?” His voice is cold, as he lights his smoke. 

“I.. um, I just wanted to talk, to explain myself, as i’ve made a decision.”  You plead, staring into his hard eyes. 

“You had these past two months to talk, to explain yourself. Now we’re here having tea waiting for you to share this decision you have come to. So let’s just get on with it eh!” You just sip your tea, not allowing his harshness to roll over you, knowing you slightly deserved it, but also he was masking his hurt on the one person that really did hurt his heart. 

“Gosh, Tommy you’re such a dick!” You growl, before continuing. “At the end of the day I still want to be with you. I still love you.” You stare at his face, watching how his demeanor changes. He slightly softens out, but is still a bit in this guardish state.

“Are you sure you know about this? What about if something happens to you again?”

“Yes, I promise. These past two months haven't been easy. I’ve missed you and there wasn’t a day I didn't think about you. I needed to take care of myself and get my mind straight, to really think about if this life that you live is what I wanted. I don’t know what to do with the what if’s, but I know you will do anything to protect me. You saved me, that day.” You reach your hand into his calloused one, missing his touch. 

“I know they haven’t been easy. I’m sorry you had to go through all this. I’ve missed you just as much. I know I did save you love. I would do it a thousand times again.” He squeezes your hand gently before going to finish his second cup of tea. The both you sitting in silence enjoying the moment and looking out over the river.  

“Okay.” He speaks out of the blue, catching your attention, from the children running around on the sidewalk. 

“Okay what, Mr.Shelby.” You tease gently, as he pulls your chair out for you, helping you put on your winter coat and beanie. 

“I love you (Y/N). Thank you.” His warm hands cup your soft cheeks, the pads of his thumbs, rubbing tiny circles on the skin under your eyes. His blue eyes gazing lovingly into yours as he seals your lips together, that somehow mends all the broken pieces together in the both of you. This was a chance to move forward. You ended up spending the night at his house, waking up with him by your side in the morning. Things weren’t magically better but were still things to work on, but it was worth it. 

Two years in you bought your first house together out in the country in Birmingham. You graduate college yet again with your master’s, getting a full time job in your field. Your job also helps in building connections with the company. The company was on a bit of a slow period, as Tommy was working on new ventures. 

After attending a few engagement parties, weddings, baby showers, and listening to yet another marriage conversation you were having with your mum, unintentionally, he knew you were slowly becoming antsy. Even though you tried not to show it, but once in a while would drop subtle hints about the subject. He already knew that morning he woke up after the Thames River day, that he wanted to marry you because he couldn’t  think of the thought of you slipping through his fingers again. 

He knew it was finally time to ask for your hand in marriage, but first he had to speak with your father, who was still trying to forgive him, from the incident that occurred. Your father had also grown to see him, like a son. Though neither would say or admit it aloud.

[ughgclden]

🎞—CONGRATS ON 900!! i love love love both of your blogs so freaking much you inspire me all the time. can i get a character within the fear street universe? some things about me is that i have short, curly brown hair and blue-green eyes, i’m not sure if appearance has anything to do with it but i thought i’d add it in! i’m pretty sarcastic around my closest friends and generally good at making new ones, even though i get a bit anxious at big gatherings like dances and parties. i stick to a close group of friends, like 99% of the time. i’m also an avid theatre kid lmao—i’ve been singing and acting for over a decade. i write a lot. like, i have twenty seven half-finished book drafts and a million poems in my notes app. i make super super extensive playlists in which every single song has a specific reason for being on the playlist. i also work at a coffee shop and have an addiction to caffeine! i’m a maladaptive daydreamer, so i’ll literally spend hours daydreaming about being in my favorite movie/book/tv worlds and romanticizing relationships with my favorite characters (i’m bi, so there’s a big playing field in this lol). i have legit zero volume control at times and i’m an empath (like, too much empathy at times that it makes me physically incapable of doing anything). i read a lot and i like to annotate/highlight my books. i write on my hands a lot (i have a million markers and pens it’s insane) but i’m t e r r i b l e at drawing. i do lots of peace signs and finger guns when i don’t know what to say or just at random times so i don’t have to continue conversations lol. my favorite part is probably part two, i’m in love with both nick and ziggy lol. AH that was a lot of information that you probably didn’t need, but i really appreciate you doing this!! CONGRATS AGAIN!! i love being mutuals <3333

THANKS SO MUCH ANGEL!! you’re honestly the sweetest ever omg- currently crying over "you inspire me all the time". i can’t even tell u how much i adore both you and your blogs, you're so lovely and talented <33 also as a fellow maladaptive daydreamer, i felt that omg. if nobody got me i know the relationships w fictional characters i made in my head got me </3 anyways, onto the ship! you'll be happy to know that..

i’d ship you with ziggy berman!

okay, you with ziggy is just perfect to me - and the fact you're in love with her makes it even better. this may get long, so i apologise in advance.

first of all, ziggy thinks you're absolutely gorgeous from the moment she lays eyes on you in camp, and nothing changes when you both get together. she loves twirling your curls around her fingers and is constantly complimenting your eyes, especially the way they look when the sun hits them. sarcasm is practically your guys' love language i swear - you're constantly exchanging sarcastic remarks laced with lovesick smiles and laughter. please sing to her - oh my god, please. it never fails to make her happy, and she'll join in sometimes (i hc she has a great voice, fight me) so you two are just performing duets together. she's always blown away by your poems - she can't understand how your brain can put words together so eloquently and how you can be so so talented. you'd both make so many playlists together, half of them so overly specific, and would definitely make playlists for each other. this girl loves loves loves her coffee, so please don't be surprised when she begs you to make her a drink in exchange for some kisses. ziggy swears you make the BEST coffee, and no one makes it like you. she loves that you're an empath, adoring the amount of compassion you have, but will also try her hardest to make sure it isn't detrimental to you. she wants you to be happy <3 ziggy would also annotate books after you show her how, taking to her favourite stephen king novel's with a pen and highlighter and just going to town with it. you guys will exchange annotated books to see each other's thoughts and feelings!!! if she ever sees you writing on your hands, she'll place hers in front of you without a word, just waiting for you to doodle and write whatever you please on it. she tries to go as long as possible without completely washing it off, wearing your artwork with pride. peace signs and finger guns? ziggy loves it so much she adopts it herself. if you throw a peace sign up at her, there's a 99% chance she'll return it before changing the topic of conversation, knowing you're running out of things to say. this girl is just in love with you okay- she is super protective over you and can and will fight anyone who tries anything with you.

i hope u liked this lovely- it was super fun to write!!! thank u for being just an overall amazing mutual,, i'm so grateful and flattered to have someone as lovely as you following me - it means so much :') <333

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter nine

i apologize from the bottom of my heart for this chapter taking so long!! school sucks and takes up so much time. so please enjoy all these words that i wrote! big plots coming up real soon!! also i apologize in advance for the amount of pov changes in this chapter lol.

genre: angst, fluff, smut

pairing: season 10 spencer reid x female oc

warnings: talk of childhood abuse, smut, alcohol consumption, guns, me not knowing anything about art

words: 10.2k

AMELIA

I’m practically drenched in sweat when I wake up, cocooned in Spencer’s arms with my face pressed into his neck. Spencer becomes a furnace during the night, and combining his body heat with his tendency to cuddle me for hours upon hours, waking up sweaty is a common occurrence. My nose scrunches up and I start my gentle trek to unravel from Spencer’s arms. Thankfully, his grip isn’t too tight and he lets me go, snoring away and tucking his hands under my pillow. 

I have every intention of getting up to go make breakfast before Spencer has to leave, but when I linger and let myself admire his face, I stop in my tracks. I revel in the beauty of his little button nose and his unruly eyebrows and his dimples, a different type of warmth spreading through my body. I resist the urge to reach forward and run my fingers over his face. He needs to get as much sleep as possible before he returns to work in a few hours. 

Work. I guess he has to go back to work. Our six weeks together were absolutely amazing and only made me fall deeper in love with Spencer. We switched from apartment to apartment for the first two weeks or so, spending most of our time watching movies, laying in bed, or sitting on the balcony as we share a blanket. And once Spencer was mobile again, we opted to go out more than we had been. We went to the grocery store, bookshops, dinners, a drive-in movie, and Spencer even took me to a planetarium. We stayed there for hours as Spencer rambled on and on and on about the stars and planets and constellations. I don’t think I retained any of the information he relayed but I didn’t care and I still don’t. I got to spend time with my boyfriend with my head on his chest as he hugged me as tight as he could and that is all that matters. 

But now he’s leaving and he will be returning to his insane job. He will be traveling for days at a time and at a moment’s notice, leaving me to stress over his well-being and safety. That’s a feeling that I don’t miss. I shake my head at my own intrusive thoughts, pulling away from my peaceful boyfriend. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and bury my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut as the horrible images of Spencer in the hospital resurface in my brain. I'm not even the one with the eidetic memory and I can still vividly remember how broken and weak he was after having three serious brushes with death in two days.

"Amelia?" I hear Spencer's voice behind me, the bed dipping as he rolls over. "What's wrong?"

I hastily wipe my cheeks and shake my head again, waving my hand. "Nothing, go back to bed."

I flinch when I feel Spencer's hand on my waist, his arms wrapping around my midsection, his chest pressing against my back so I'm sitting between his legs. "You're crying," his morning voice is undeniably sexy and raspy in my ear as he rests his chin against my shoulder. "Talk to me, please."

I place my hands on top of his where they rest on my stomach, intertwining our fingers and trying to remind myself that he's here and he's safe. But he won't be soon. He'll be off in the field and he'll be around the worst that society has to offer. People who kill without a second thought and don’t care if they take a federal agent and leave a sobbing, lovesick girlfriend behind. He faced three people like that and almost lost his life. It's a miracle he's even sitting here right now.

"Amelia?" He asks again, peering over my shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of my face. "Come on, talk to me. I don’t want you to cry."

"I just," I let my head fall back against his shoulder, wanting to be as close to him as possible, scooting my butt back until my body is completely flush against his, "I don't want you to go. I'm so scared you'll get hurt again and I can't- I don't wanna see you like that again, Spence, I can't-"

“Okay, okay, come here,” Spencer pats my thigh and scoots back against the headboard, opening his arms for me. I crack a smile, silently crawling into his arms and curling up against his chest. I can hear the steady rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat in my ear, calming me down to the point where I almost fall back asleep. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. I’ll fall asleep on top of Spencer, he won’t have the heart to move my sleeping body, and then he has to stay home from work. It’s a win for everyone, except maybe Spencer’s boss.

"I'm gonna come home to you," Spencer whispers, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "I always have. I mean, I got shot and I still came home, right?"

"Spencer, acknowledging your gunshot wound isn’t helping,” I lift my head and my eyes wander to his neck, seeing the mark that's there, no longer a wound or even a scab, just a scar that will likely take a long time to fade, if it does at all. "I’m always gonna worry. I still worry about what types of situations you'll get yourself into and how many people are dying and if you're in danger and if someone is targeting you. I’ll always be worrying about you, except for the moments when you’re right next to me.”

"I know," Spencer sighs, brushing my hair behind my ears. His soft touch sets my skin on fire, and every time his lips touch my skin, I shutter. "I know it's hard and I'm sorry that you have to deal with this alone. But you know that I'll call you as much as I can to check in while I'm away. I might not even get a case today and then we can be together tonight! You never know what could happen.”

"I just-" I pause again, resting my forehead against Spencer’s chin, breathing in the lingering scent of the body wash that I’ve caught sight of in his bathroom. I try to breathe it in as much as possible so I can remember it when he leaves, “I love you. I love you so much.”

Spencer grins. Every time I recite those beautiful three words to him, even after six weeks of telling him at least four times every day, he stills grins in the most adorable way. "And I love you too. Don't worry your pretty little head about me, though. Go to your studio and make some more of your beautiful art. You haven't exercised your creative side properly in almost six weeks and you need to get it all out."

"Text me," I completely ignore what he says, far too wrapped up in my anxiety. "Just text me if you get a case and text me all the time if you can't call me, just so I know-"

"I always do," Spencer cuts me off. "Don't stress out too much, Lia. I've got a gun and my team, that's all I need. I'll come home to you, don't worry."

My bottom lip quivers as more tears threaten to fall, and I grip Spencer's tee shirt in my fists. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Course," he lures me closer, pressing his lips to mine in a feather-light kiss. For whatever reason, the simple kiss calms me down. For a millisecond, it makes me forget that he's about to run into the belly of the beast yet again. The pain returns when we pull away, and I wish I could keep kissing him forever to keep him in my arms and protect him from the horrors he is about to go see. "Alright," Spencer sighs, his hands falling to my waistline, "I've gotta start getting ready or we won't have time to get coffee."

“And tea!”

“Yes, and tea for you.”

I pull away and climb out of his bed, running my fingers through my hair as I reach for my bag, stuffed full of clothes, setting it on the bed. Spencer silently climbs out and heads into the bathroom to shower, leaving me in the bedroom to change. My hands are still shaking but I try to calm myself. Spencer seems calm so why shouldn't I be? He’s the trained federal agent here, so I have nothing to worry about, right? He knows what he’s doing and he’s been doing this job for years. I don’t need to worry. Please stop worrying.

I'm tightening my belt just as Spencer is coming out of the bathroom fully dressed, running his fingers through his wet hair. He looks criminally attractive but I don't let myself get distracted for long, tying my shirt up and running my fingers through my curls to tame them just a bit. I sit on the bed and tie on my tennis shoes, seeing Spencer clipping on his watch, always over the cuff of his sleeve. When he cranes his neck to get his tie on, I see the scar again and I have to tear my eyes away before I start crying for the third time this morning.

"Are you gonna be here when I come back?" Spencer asks, moving to stand in front of me, my eyes raking up his body until our eyes lock. He’s smiling, almost like he’s excited to go back to the job that got him addicted to drugs and the job that got him shot twice, and the job that gives him constant nightmares.

"I can be," I stand, giving him a weak smile as I reach for my overnight backpack. I wordlessly toss open the bedroom door and pick up Spencer's messenger bag, handing it over to him as he follows me. I don't even wait for him before I leave the apartment, hearing him closing and locking the door behind us.

Spencer only catches up to me when we get onto the sidewalk outside, the welcomed warmth from the sun soaking into our skin. He captures my hand in his and doesn't let go, intertwining our fingers and squeezing. "Why do I get the feeling that you're mad at me? Did I say something?"

I tug on his hand and he comes closer, allowing me to rest my head on his arm as we walk, our pace slowing a bit. I don't have the proper words to express the utter fear I'm feeling. I've lost the people I love before and I can't let that happen again. If I lose Spencer then there's no reason for me to be on this earth anymore. I can’t keep dealing with the heartbreak. I've never loved anyone the way I love him and if that gets ripped away from me yet again, I don't know what I'd do. I can’t lose my family and the love of my life and expect to continue living my life. I wouldn’t be able to. 

"No," I answer his question weakly. I feel Spencer's eyes on me but I don't dare to look up at him, despite the way I crave to be comforted by the beauty of his eyes. "I’m not- no.”

"I don't want to go to work with you like this. I don't wanna leave you upset," he brings our hands up, pressing his lips to my knuckles. "And," he sighs dramatically, loudly, dropping our hands back down to our sides, "love, if this is too much for you and my job is too much, you don't have to stick around.”

I instantly freeze, my feet melting into the concrete sidewalk. "Are you breaking up with me? B-Because you think I can't handle the baggage that comes with your job?"

"No, no," Spencer shakes his head, standing in front of me and grabbing my cheeks. His forwardness would surprise me any day, but I’m stunned that he is willing to act like this and show any level of PDA on a public sidewalk while everyone is rushing to work. "I don't wanna break up with you, god no. But I love you and if you're in pain because of what I'm doing then I don't want you to go through that.”

"I don't wanna leave you. I'm not in pain, Spencer," I reach my trembling fingers forward and place them at his waistline, clutching the soft fabric of his cardigan. "I've lost people. And I love you so much. I don't wanna lose you like I've lost everyone else in my life but I don't wanna leave you. That's the last thing I wanna do. I just want you to be safe and I want you to come home to me, that's all I want."

"I will, I always will. But like I said, just go to your studio and focus on your work. I’ll text and call when I can, but I want you to worry about yourself. Do all the work you didn’t get to do when you were taking care of me. And thanks for that, by the way." Spencer brings his lips down to mine again, thumbs brushing against my cheekbones. I hold him there for longer than we probably should be kissing on a public sidewalk, but as people rush past us on their commute to work, I keep my focus on him. "Let's go, come on, I need my coffee and you need your tea."

Spencer grabs my hand again and pulls me along the sidewalk, dodging hurrying businessmen in tight suits. I'm glad Spencer doesn't wear suits to work, not like his unit chief. I'm sure he'd look incredibly attractive in them, but I like his style. Focus, Amelia. Your boyfriend is about to return to the job that got him shot. Stop thinking about his outfits and his sense of style. Get your head out of your ass.

Spencer orders both of our drinks and then brings me over to our normal booth, and I usually sit across from him, but today, I sit on the same side as him. He doesn't seem to mind, though, as he pulls his messenger bag off his shoulder and places his hand on my thigh. I lean my head onto his shoulder and let my eyes close, letting the warmth from the cup in my hand and Spencer’s hand on my leg spread to the rest of my body. 

"Are you nervous to go back?" I finally ask the question that's been on the tip of my tongue all morning. Well, maybe it’s not the only question I’ve been dying to ask. There are a million other questions that I could ask and none of them would feel right. Not to say that this one is the right one, but this one seems natural.

Spencer hums. "I try not to let myself get nervous because then I make mistakes and I can't afford mistakes. I block out nerves. I'm not happy to be leaving you because I've loved spending six weeks with you, but I'm excited to be getting back to work and-"

"Helping people," I finish for him. Spencer nods and goes quiet again. My other questions are swirling around in my head and as much as I tell myself to shut them out, they don’t stop. "I have another question. It’s an, um, an odd question."

"And what would that be?”

"I know I'm not the profiler here," he chuckles as I shift around to face him, "but I've noticed that you never wear your gun around me. You wear your holster but not your gun. When I go to see Penelope at the BAU, everyone has their guns, even outside the buildings. Your team had their guns in the hospital, even Mike always had his gun on him at home. Why don't you?"

Spencer hums once more, taking a moment to think through his answer. The silence makes me regret asking the question. I’m dying to know, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Is Spencer uncomfortable? Is that why he’s quiet? "I don't think I really need to. I don't feel the need to subject you to the constant presence of a gun.”

"It doesn't bother me," I tell him softly, tracing my finger around the rim of my cup. I avoid eye contact. "I've seen worse than a gun. I can shoot a gun, did I tell you that?"

Spencer's eyebrows shoot up. "Um, no. You didn't tell me that. I want to ask why you know how to shoot a gun but I don’t think I want to know the answer.”

"I'm not that good at it," I take a sip of my piping hot tea, shrugging my shoulders in a way that is far too nonchalant for this conversation. "Mike taught me a few years ago. Self-defense and all. He actually came to me about it. I was the oldest kid in the house so if anything were to happen when he wasn’t around, I’d know how to shoot one of his spare guns."

Spencer gingerly places his cup on the table, pulling his hand away from my thigh and placing them in his lap. "Just because you know how to shoot a gun doesn't mean I have to go around, parading mine on my hip whenever you're around."

"Have you ever noticed," I ignore his insistence of my innocent, angel personality, "that I don't cool down my tea?"

Spencer taps his fingers against the table, not even looking at me. "Yeah, actually, I have noticed that."

I glance around the emptying cafe and notice that the booths around us are empty and nobody is in earshot. "When I did ‘bad things’ like get a snack during the night or come home thirty seconds late from school or ask what was for dinner, my dad used to hold me down, force open my mouth, pull out my tongue and hold it out, and pour hot sauce on it. It basically fried my tongue to the point where the heat from a cup of tea or coup doesn’t bother me. It’s nothing compared to what I’m used to. I spent my childhood getting hot sauce on my tongue and getting cigarette burns all over my body. I’ve done things and seen some pretty fucked up things throughout my life and, frankly, seeing a gun on your hip won't affect me more than seeing a tattoo of my dead brother on my arm will." 

Spencer grabs onto my arm, gentler than ever, tracing his fingers over a few tattoos- the ones I didn’t tell him about. With my spare hand, I grab my tea and take another sip. “Those five are for my foster homes.”

“Your foster homes? You hated them. Why would you get them tattooed?” 

“Because they’re apart of me,” I shrug one more time and twist my arm around in Spencer’s grasp. “The cactus is from when I lived in Arizona. Pretty self-explanatory. The book is from one house I lived in right next to a library and I would sneak out at night and break into the book drop off bin and read the books that people were returning. The bumblebee is from a house with a wasps nest in the backyard, and it’s where I found out I’m allergic to bee stings. The turtle is from when the house had a pet turtle. And the heart is from a house I lived in where they had this weird metal replica of a heart, and my foster brother at the time broke it and we all got beat up for it. So there, now you know about all my tattoos and about most of my shitty childhood.” Just in time, the alarm on my phone goes off. "You've gotta go," I collect my cup and my phone, slipping out of the booth and stomping towards the door.

Spencer follows after me quickly, his long legs carrying him over to me at record speed. And despite the negative energy radiating off of me, Spencer laces his pinky with mine as I start to walk towards the train. Our laced pinkies are such a tiny gesture but it fills my body with so much love and warmth that my ears tear up. Spencer doesn’t say anything about my bad attitude or the new information I just blurted out. He just pulls me closer to his body and swings our arms between us. When we get to the metro station, Spencer doesn’t make any effort to go down the stairs. He wraps me in his arms and holds me as tight as he can.

"Be careful, okay?" I tuck my face into the crook of his neck and inhale his scent, an intoxicating combination of coffee, peppermint, and some musky cologne. Spencer kisses the top of my head and squeezes my waist. "I love you so, so much. I don't want another call from Penelope that you're in the hospital, okay? No more of that.”

Spencer nods against me. “No more of that,” he confirms.

“Do you promise?”

"Of course, I promise."

///

SPENCER

///

It's refreshing to finally be back in the BAU after six weeks off with the girl I love, but my mind is racing and part of me can't even enjoy being back. The elevator doors open and I easily spot Morgan and JJ chatting in the bullpen through the glass doors, but I take a sharp right. I knock quickly on Garcia's door, waiting to hear her shout before opening.

She gasps and grins when I enter, jumping out of her chair to come give me a hug. "It's so good to see you, Spencer! How are you feeling? How's Amelia? How was it spending six weeks together?"

"I'm fine, she's amazing, and six weeks off was great and I'm happy to be back. But I need you to do something for me." I speak quickly, far too scatterbrained to hold off on my train of thought.

"Oh," she looks a bit stunned as she nods and hurries back to her computer. "I'm at your service, Boy Wonder."

"Okay," I lean over her chair with a heavy sigh as the guilt starts to weigh on me. "I, um, I need you to look up the case that Amelia was involved in."

Garcia whips her head back to me, her eyes wide. "She told you about that?"

"Yeah, she did. And I need you to look it up."

"But why?" Garcia whines as she types in Amelia's name. "I feel icky when I look up my friends and family. I don't like poking into their lives. I already unsealed the court documents from when Rossi made me look them up and I felt absolutely horrible about that."

I lean in closer to read the screen when a whole load of documents and paperwork pop up. "Alright. Damien Kelsey was arrested by Gideon and Rossi, and Amelia was taken to a foster home. He was found guilty on thirty-seven counts of murder on women but he was-"

"Oh my god," Garcia's eyes widen, her hands stilling over her keyboard.

"Print all this information out for me," I demand without meaning to sound so rude, but I barely even give it a second thought as I go storming out of Garcia's lair. I throw open the doors to the bullpen, my eyes locked on one particular closed door. My blood boils hotter than ever before and my hands ball up into fists. Morgan and JJ both greet me from their desks but I ignore them, instead throwing open Rossi's door and then slamming it closed.

Rossi, understandably, looks alarmed as I enter. I can't help the anger that bubbles up in me, but I don't even think it's aimed at him. I think I'm just angry at the world. I just want to wrap Amelia up in my arms and protect her in my arms. From the moment I met her, I just wanted to protect her. I wanted to keep her out of my insane job and to put her in a bubble of innocence and happiness. But knowing that her innocence has already been tainted and her childhood was ruined makes my heart hurt more than it already does.

"Reid?" Rossi stands from his desk, brows furrowed. "What's going on?"

"Damien Kelsey.”

Rossi sighs, relaxing back into his chair and crossing his arms. "So Amelia told you about her father."

"Yeah, she did. But she didn’t tell me,” I slam a stack of papers on the desk in front of him, “this. And this seems pretty damn important.”

"Reid, take a seat, please," Rossi states, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. But when I don't, he knows it's not worth it to continue to harp on it. "I’m aware of this and it’s being dealt with.”

“It’s being dealt with? For over a decade?” I snap. “This is something that should be done already!”

A knock on the door interrupts us, and Garcia pops her head in. "Sorry to end this very loud conversation, but I have some questions about what dessert I should be bringing tomorrow. Chocolate chip cookies or apple fritters?”

I whip my head back to Rossi, pointing at the papers on his desk. “This conversation isn’t over.”

AMELIA

I took Spencer’s advice and went straight to my art studio after he disappeared into the train station. I desperately needed something to distract me and working usually does the trick. So I rush a few blocks over and throw on an apron, getting to work. I haven’t done much work, other than simple drawings, the last few weeks and it’s nice to get back to the thing I love. I guess that’s how Spencer feels about going back to work today. Maybe I should have been more accepting and supportive of his return to the BAU. 

I lose myself in my work, tossing paint at a canvas and creating everything I possibly can in the shortest amount of time. I’m not sure when my time here could be interrupted so I try to get all of my thoughts onto canvas before I have to leave. I’m there for hours and hours before taking a break even crosses my mind. So I collapse into the bean bag chair in the corner of the room and take a break for the first time all day.

Now, Penelope Garcia is an absolute master at what she does. I’ve seen her in action a few times and I’ve heard plenty of stories from Spencer about how she solves a case and finds an unsub just in time to save a life. Penelope Garcia has never been to my studio before but I become momentarily convinced that she broke in and installed cameras to watch me because the second I sit down to take a break, she calls me.

“Hello, my love,” I greet her sweetly. “How is going at the BAU today?”

“Hello, Girl Wonder! It is going great at the BAU today. So far, it’s been a paperwork day and I’ve been bored so I wanted to call you to check up on my new best friend.”

Oh, thank god. It’s a paperwork day. Hopefully, it’ll stay that way and I’ll get to spend the night with Spencer. 

“Oh, that’s sweet, Penny. I’m doing pretty well. I’m at my studio right now and working on some new pieces. I haven’t really been able to work lately so I’m cramming all my thoughts into a few hours,” I take a glance around my studio, or more specifically, at the paint splatters on the wall and the brushes on the floor, “or actually, just making a total mess.”

“I’m not the best painter so you should teach me how to paint. Oh! Oh! I know! You should teach a paint night for the BAU! That would be so much fun. And maybe you could do it at Rossi’s dinner party tomorrow!”

“Dinner party?”

“Oh, yeah,” Penelope’s voice drops slightly. “Spencer didn’t tell you about that?”

“No, he didn’t.” A pout creeps onto my face. Maybe I really, truly annoyed him this morning with my excessive worrying. I’m only trying to protect him, he has to know that. Or there’s a possibility that he doesn’t want me at the dinner. He could want to hang out with his coworkers without me. After all, we did spend six weeks straight together. Maybe he needs a little break, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But it still hurts a little that he didn’t tell me about it, whether he decides to invite me or not. 

“Well, Rossi only invited us today and we all know Boy Wonder isn’t fond of technology, so maybe he’s planning on asking you in person. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. But, hey! That paint night. What do you think?”

SPENCER

I drag my feet up the steps of the metro, into the chilled air of the night, taking a quick glance of my surroundings with my tired eyes. The moonlight creates the path back to my apartment, and the closer I get, the more excited I become to getting into bed. Despite it being a paperwork day, I had a mountain of work to do that didn’t get done while I was on medical leave, and it needed to be finished asap. So it’s just passing eight o’clock when I drag myself up the stairs to my apartment, constantly pulling the falling strap of my satchel up my arm. The last time it falls, I let my bag fall completely onto the floor, fishing through the pocket to find my keys. 

I enter my dark apartment and throw my satchel aside and hang up my jacket, locking up my gun in a safe and kicking off my shoes. I drag my feet into the kitchen, hopefully for some dinner, flicking the light switch as I walk in. I have every intention of heading to the fridge but first, I find a container of food from my favorite restaurant on the table. Beside it, a note from Amelia.

I ordered dinner for us before I knew you were going to be late, so this is yours. I’m going to try and stay up for when you return but I’m really tired so I might not make it. So if I’m knocked out by the time you get home, then I love you and I missed you a lot today!! Now come give me attention!!!!!!!

Love, Lia <3

My socked feet are silent against the hardwood as I tiptoe into the living room, finding my sleeping girlfriend on the couch, wrapped up in a plaid blanket with her feet sticking out of the bottom. Her laptop is on the coffee table in front of her, displaying the title screen for a show called Lucifer that she had been telling me about the other day. I watched a few episodes with Amelia during my medical leave but I couldn’t get over the unlikeliness that a biblical figure could have the powers to slow time on Earth or that a human could have a baby with a biblical figure that isn’t even a human. Amelia banned me from watching the show again.

I crouch down beside the couch and bring my hand to Amelia’s cheek, stroking my thumb along her cheekbone. "Amelia," I whisper, only seeing her eyes flutter in the slightest, "sweet girl, wake up."

She hums, scrunching up her nose, and before coming to, eyelids fluttering again before opening. She smiles softly, wiggling her hips to turn to me. "Hi, baby."

"Hi," I whisper back. "Come to bed. I’m tired and I wanna go to sleep too. Don't sleep on the couch."

"Did you eat?" Amelia murmurs, her hand trailing up to rest atop mine. She twists her head and presses a kiss to my palm, pulling my hand down so she can clutch it against her chest. "I left you-"

"Shh, shh," I hush her softly. "I'm really tired. So let's just go to bed, okay? C'mon, pretty girl."

Amelia smiles lazily, sitting up and letting me push the blanket away from her. "I like when you call me that."

I chuckle, standing and holding my hands out for her. I pull her off the couch and right into my arms, tucking her head under my chin and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "Pet names are usually your thing."

I lead her off to my bedroom and she goes crawling into bed, leaving me to change into my pajamas. I do that as quickly as I can and then slip under the duvet with Amelia. She immediately scoots backward until her back is pressed to my front and until she’s almost completely on my pillow. I move her hair aside so it’s not in my face and press a kiss to the side of her neck, and she lets out a cute noise in response. 

“I’m sorry if I annoyed you this morning,�� Amelia whispers, reaching behind her to place her hand on my cheek. Just like she had done to me, I turn my head and press a kiss to Amelia’s palm. “I was just worried about you. And I’m sorry for being an asshole when I just blurted out all that stuff about my foster homes and my dad.”

“You weren’t annoying at all. I know you were worried. And you weren’t being an- well, you know what. You were worried and anxious for me and I understand that.” Amelia just hums in response, nodding softly against my chest. “But hey, are you busy tomorrow night?”

“Asking me on a date, Doctor?”

“Almost,” I chuckle. “Rossi is having the team over for dinner and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Penelope told me about this today. She called me,” Amelia mumbles. She rolls over to face but tucks her head into the crook of my neck, leaving a few kisses right over my pulse point. “I’d love to go with you.”

“Great. You can meet our new team member. Her name is Kate, she’s pretty awesome.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Is there a dress code?” I laugh again, pressing a kiss to Amelia’s forehead that makes her join my giggles. “It’s important, Spence! I can’t show up in heels if everyone else is wearing sweats. That is my worst nightmare.”

“Of course it is,” I quip. “Text Penelope and ask her. I’ll probably just wear the same boring outfits I wear everyday.”

“Hey,” Amelia finally opens her eyes again and looks up at me, “I love the way you dress. It’s not boring. You’re fucking adorable with your button ups and cardigans and ties and fun socks.”

I ignore the sentiment behind her statement and instead furrow my eyebrows. “You call them button ups?”

I can barely see her face in the darkness of my bedroom but I can still make out her expressions, and she furrows her eyebrows right back at me. “Well, what do you call them?”

“Button downs.”

“You’re wrong. That’s so wrong, baby.”

“I can’t remember the last time someone told me I was wrong, and I remember everything.” And this time, I see the corners of Amelia’s lips tip upwards, and an adorable smile graces her face. “But yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Damn right I am, Doctor 187.”

///

"Come on, Amelia! We're already late!" I call up the stairs where my girlfriend is hastily getting ready for dinner.

"Coming!" She calls back, but her voice sounds distant. She has been telling me for an hour that she will be ready in five minutes but clearly, she hasn’t been telling me the truth.

While I'm still waiting for her to finish getting dressed, I wander into the living room to take the record out of the player and tuck it away safely. I make sure that it goes back in the correct place because I don’t want to face Amelia if I mess up her record organization. Amelia's apartment has become like a second home to me over the last few months of our relationship and I’m so grateful to have a safe place like this. Whenever I step foot through the door, I’m enveloped in a certain warmth that only Amelia can provide for me. The plants and the fuzzy blankets and the records that are constantly playing and the artwork on the walls and the balcony with yellow Adirondack chairs and, of course, the girl that the apartment comes with make for the perfect escape from my job. I always thought that my apartment was enough of an escape, and then I came to Amelia’s apartment for Christmas and suddenly, I never wanted to leave.

Amelia comes barreling down the stairs a moment later, her black heeled boots in her hand. She pauses at the door of the stairs and smiles nervously at me, holding her hands out as if to present herself to me. "Do I look okay?"

I don't even know why she asks because she always looks absolutely stunning, no matter what her outfit is. She's wearing a simple black dress that hugs her body in the most beautiful ways, showing off her array of colorful tattoos. She is, of course, wearing her butterfly necklace and her clusters of rings, nails painted yellow again. Her blonde hair is straightened and she has a scarf tied in her hair like a headband with a few pieces of hair pulled out to frame her face. I swear, whenever I see her, I'm speechless. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful human in my life.

"You look gorgeous, love, you always do," I compliment, holding my hand out for her to grab onto so she doesn’t tip over when putting her shoes on, "but aren't you gonna get cold when it gets dark?"

Amelia shrugs and swats her hand at me nonchalantly, grabbing her backpack and camera from the staircase banister. "I'll be fine. Let's get going. I can't believe you're driving! This is so rare!" She throws a smile over her shoulder when she walks past me, leaning over to press a kiss to my cheek. "If Penelope lied to me and there's no wine here tonight-"

"There's gonna be wine," I insist, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the building. "Rossi always has wine."

///

"You made it!" Rossi grins as he pulls open his front door. "And you've brought Amelia. Good choice," he pulls the two of us in for a hug, prompting Amelia to compliment him on his house. "Alright, you two, into the backyard. Everyone else is already there."

I give Amelia a look as if to shame her for taking so long to get dressed, and she just shoves my shoulder. She murmurs something under her breath that I don’t quite hear, but I wouldn’t have had time to ask anyway because we’ve joined everyone in the backyard a moment.

"Yes!" Garcia immediately cheers, running over as fast as she can on her ridiculously high heels and pulling Amelia into a hug. "I knew it! I knew you'd make it and Reid would tell you about this and you'd get to drink lovely wine with us. I knew it!"

Amelia laughs as she hugs Penelope back, pulling away only to be pulled back in. "It's nice to see you too, P."

"You've gotta meet everyone!" Penelope exclaims and almost spills liquid from the glass I'm realizing is in her hand. I find myself wondering how much she's already had to drink. Amelia glances over her shoulder at me desperately as Garcia drags her away and over to the long table that's set up. She's introduced formally to the team, yet again, along with Savannah, Beth, Sam, Will, and Chris. And of course, she takes the time to introduce herself to Kate. She's always been good at talking to people, unlike me, so a glass of wine is thrust in her hand and she's enveloped in conversation. But I linger on the porch, just admiring how easily she bonds with everyone and how her face lights up when Savannah cracks a joke.

"How's it going, Pretty Boy?" Morgan is at my side, patting my shoulder with a teasing smirk that I saw all day today. He spent the last two days asking me how my medical leave was and if I finally sealed the deal with Amelia. His prying would have considered invasive if I wasn’t so used to it already. "You brought your girl."

"And she's already been taken away from me," I cross my arm, watching her take a long sip of her wine before turning her head to Hotch and Beth. "At least she's getting along with everyone."

"Yeah," Morgan sighs and the mood instantly drops. "Listen, I don't know what happened with the whole situation where Rossi recognized her and-"

"Morgan-" I try to interject, but he shakes his head.

"Kid, I don't wanna know, that's what I'm saying. You two seem to be over it, and if you're happy, then I'm happy for you. You seem to trust her so that’s all that matters. She seems like a good girl for you. She makes you happy."

I turn my gaze back to her and my heart flutters as she twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, holding her wine glass in her hand delicately. She looks too beautiful for anyone’s good in her stupid, tight black dress and heels that make her legs look as long as mine. "She does."

"I gotta be honest," he chuckles lightly. "I didn't expect you to shoot for a girl with a nose piercing and two arms of tattoos but I'm not complaining."

"Uncle Spencer!" Our conversation is fully stopped by a little voice, and Henry comes barreling over, having broken away from JJ's hold. My face lights up as he comes jumping into my arms, crouching down to catch him. Morgan pats my shoulder again, heading to the table to leave us alone.

"Hi, Henry!" I exclaim, hugging him tightly. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

Henry giggles, his head falling onto my shoulder in the most adorable way. "I missed you, Uncle Spencer."

"I missed you too, Henry." I smile, ruffling his hair. He pushes my hands away with a giggle and pushes his own long hair behind his ears. "Did you meet my girlfriend?"

Henry's eyes widen as he lifts his head. "You have a girlfriend?"

I hold in my laugh at his astonishment as I nod, bringing his attention to where Amelia is now standing with Penelope and Sam, chatting away. "That's her, right there. With the blonde hair and the black dress. Her name is Amelia."

Henry lifts his head even more to get a good look at her, and just as he does, Amelia turns her head to look back at us. As she does, Henry gasps and whips his head back to face me. "She saw me!" His eyes widen and he puts his tiny hands on my cheeks. I mimic his surprised expression and I see Amelia excusing herself from her conversation to walk back over to us. Henry turns his head slowly to peer back at her, and when he sees that she's walking to us, he gasps again. "She's coming!"

Amelia gets to us with a huge smile towards Henry, setting her glass of wine on the table. "Hi!"

"Say hi, bud," I prompt as he drops his hands back to my shoulders again. Henry gives me a nervous glance and only turns his head slightly towards Amelia.

"Hi, Amelia," he says, waving just a tiny bit.

"Hi, Henry," Amelia grins. "I've heard a lot about you from Spencer. He tells me that you're the coolest kid he knows."

Henry's eyes light up and a small smile plays at his lips. "He did?"

"Oh yeah, he totally did," she nods confidently. I have to admit, I've never seen her interact with children before, but I could watch this all day. Where did her love of children even come from? Did it come from Cody? Or did it come from protecting her foster siblings from abusive parents? 

Henry is silent for a moment and I can tell he's noticing Amelia's tattoos. He points at her arm. "You've got drawings all over your arms!"

Amelia looks down at her arms as if she's forgotten she has tattoos, nodding "I do. Super cool, right?" Henry nods. "I'm an artist, I drew some of these. So that means I draw and paint pictures as a job.”

"That's awesome!" Henry exclaims, his face lighting up even brighter than before. "Could you draw me some pictures?"

"Of course I could!" Amelia immediately exclaims. "I always have pencils and a sketchbook with me. Let's go, bud," she gives me a cute smile and I place him on the floor, letting the two go off on their own. I watch them for just a moment as Amelia grabs her backpack to pull out her pencils and sketchbook before finding a good place to sit with Henry.

"Wow," JJ is the next person to materialize at my side, "I've never seen him gravitate towards someone so quickly. And I've never seen him leave your side so quick," The two of us watch as Jack runs up and joins the two of them, sitting on Amelia's unoccupied side and peering over her arm at her sketchbook. She greets Jack and then gets back to work, listening to every demand the boys have over what she should draw. "C'mon, Spence, come join everyone."

JJ grabs my arm and drags me over to the table with everyone else, sitting me down beside her. It's nice to see everyone outside of work every once in a while, especially after such a stressful stretch of a few months. I'm not one to admit that I need relaxation but I definitely needed a night like this with everyone. I especially needed a night with my friends and my girlfriend getting along. My biggest fear is that everyone on the team would reject her after her moment with Rossi. But they seem to love her, even the kids love her, and I’m just so relieved.

After a little while, the boys come sprinting over, waving their drawings in their hands as they rave to their parents. Amelia returns to me with a proud smile, claiming the seat next to me and scooting as close as she can. She leans into my chest and I leave a kiss on her temple, and the purr-like sound that she makes brings a smile to my face.

"Dinner," Rossi announces, "is served."

///

"Have you ever played rummy?" I drag my eyes up and down Amelia's body as she comes to sit next to me after helping Rossi with the cleanup of plates. She's got her second glass of wine in her hand and my jacket wrapped around her shoulders, hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. She starting scooting closer to me during dinner, and it took me all of a millisecond to realize that she was cold and when she told me that she was wrong about not needing a jacket, I happily gave her mine.

"No, actually. I haven't. Will you teach me?" She presses her face into my arm, one of her hands clutching her glass of wine and the other finding home on my thigh. I have to resist the urge to squirm around when her thumb strokes my leg atop my pants. I’ve noticed that she has been nursing her second glass of wine for quite a while so it’s unlikely she is too drunk to realize the effect her touch is having on me. But she doesn’t really pay any attention to it when I shift my position in my chair.

"Yeah, of course," I clear my throat and grab our little stack of cards, spreading them out in my hands. I look down at Amelia to find she’s already looking at me. Her eyes are half shut and her lips are pouted just slightly, enough to make it necessary for me to lean down and kiss her. "And you've got the best teacher, too."

"Pretty boy's banned from casinos in, as I remember it, Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Parump," Morgan interjects, earning a slap on the arm from Savannah for interrupting.

"So we need to be collecting cards based on the rounds," I tell her and she nods. "For the first round, we need to sets of threes, get it? We need two sets of three cards with the same number, any suit, red or black."

"Not too hard," she takes a sip of her drink and starts silently arranging the cards in my hands as I've instructed. I go on to explain the concept of taking cards out of turn and then how to lay down cards and then how to win a round. She's nodding but I'm not sure if she's retaining any of this information, but I could win this game blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back so it's not a big deal. All I’m worried about is Amelia keeping her hands on me and getting her home soon.

The game starts and we take the lead immediately, but it’s not like anyone is surprised. And it takes about an hour but, sure enough, Amelia and I win rummy. The win is followed by rolled eyes and groans, and a few stolen kisses between us when everyone starts cleaning up. It's odd, I think, to have someone to be affectionate with during a team dinner. I've spent years being alone at team dinners and I've watched everyone with their significant others and wished I could have that. But now I've got the most amazing girl at my side who I'm head over heels in love with who I'm certain I'm gonna have for the rest of my life.

"Spence?" Amelia's soft voice breaks me out of my lovestruck daze. She places her empty wine glass in the sink beside me, pulling my jacket tighter around her shoulders. "Are we leaving?"

I smile, nodding as I run my hands up and down her arms. "Yeah," I dig into my pocket and hand her my keys, "get in the car. I've gotta ask Rossi a work question and I'll be right out. Don't drive away.”

“I won’t,” she giggles, going up on her toes to kiss me. Her lips taste like wine and her tongue tastes like chocolate and it’s such an intoxicating taste that I kiss her like we’re not in the middle of Rossi’s kitchen. Amelia’s hands come up to my stomach, grasping my shirt for a split second before she pulls away. Her hands come up to my face and her thumb swipes away a little bit of lip gloss from the corner of my mouth before she abruptly turns on her heel and struts away. I watch her hips sway when she walks, all the way until she gets to JJ and Henry, saying goodbye and exchanging phone numbers with the ladies of my team.

Once Amelia is out of my sight, I make my way down the hallway and into Rossi’s office, closing the door behind me.

AMELIA

I collapse into the passenger seat of Spencer’s car, putting the keys in the ignition and turning the heat up. I tug my shoes off and toss them onto the floor, spreading out my toes and stretching them out for the first time in hours. The driver side door opens a second later and Spencer slips in, watching me massage my feet for a second. “I don’t know why you insist on wearing those everywhere if they just make your feet hurt.”

“Because they complete the whole outfit, bubs,” I sass right back at him as we both put on our seatbelts. “Are we going back to my apartment or yours?”

“Yours, if that’s okay. I have my go-bag so I can change before work tomorrow,” Spencer puts the car into drives and speeds off. I can’t take my eyes off of him when he drives. The way his biceps flex as he grips the wheel or the way he elongates his neck when he looks over his shoulder to check for oncoming cars. 

When he stops at a red light, he reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh, the same way I had done to him during cards. Spencer smiles over at me with the most innocent look, and it almost takes my breath away. I open my mouth to speak but he starts driving before I can say anything. His hand tightens and releases its grip every few seconds, and by the time we arrive at my apartment, I’m barely able to sit straight. I practically trip out of the car and hurry upstairs, Spencer hot on my heels. 

The tension that we’ve been building the last few hours is looming over us, and as we stroll up the stairs to my bedroom, I can feel Spencer staring me down. I do what I can to ignore his burning gaze but the attention is addicting and it feels involuntary when I sway my hips in the same way that got him a little too excited before. 

Once we reach the top step, Spencer’s hand grasp onto my waistline and he pulls me into his chest. He ducks his head to place a kiss on the side of my neck, already reaching to pull his jacket off of my body. “Is this okay?” He murmurs, lips brushing against my skin.

“Yes,” I roll my shoulders back to let the jacket fall to the floor, then I twist around in Spencer’s arms to start pulling at his shirt. I tug him towards the bed and fall backwards, bringing him down with me. He catches himself before he bares all of his weight on me, sitting up on his knees and staing down at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

“Are you sure this is okay? I know you were drinking tonight and I don’t want to take advantage.”

“I’m not drunk and you’re not taking advantage,” I grab the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss, feeling him shuffle around to undo the buttons of his shirt and toss it onto the ground. His shoes, socks, and belt follow, and when he is almost completely undressed, he pulls away from my lips. 

His fingers trail up my thgihs and to the hem of my dress, slowly pushing it upwards. My breath hitches as the dress gets to my hips, and Spencer immediately stops. “Do you not want me to take your dress off? I can leave it on.”

“No, well, I-”

“No?”

“Yes!” I place my hands on Spencer’s shoulders and take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. Spencer’s hands move from the hem of my dress to my waistline. “I just, well, I usually keep a shirt or a sweater on when I have sex. It’s just-”

“You don’t have to take your clothes off if you don’t want to. We don’t even need to continue if you’re uncomfortable,” Spencer leans down to press a kiss to my nose, and that tiny act brings a smile to my face. “I love you.”

“I love you,” I parrot his sweet words, leaning up on my elbows to peck his lips. “I trust you.” It’s more of a statement for me then for Spencer. I just needed to reassure myself that this is my Spencer. My Spencer who stumbled over his words when we first met and my Spencer who still sometimes asks just to kiss me. He’s not like the other assholes I’ve dealt with. He’s special.

So I wiggle from under Spencer and stand at the foot of the bed. I’m flustered for a second as Spencer lays on his back and tucks his hands behind his head, his chest completely on display for me. But I drag myself away from my thoughts and unzips my dress, letting it fall to the floor with trembling hands. And while I have the tiniest bit of confidence in myself, I unclip my bra and let it join my dress.

Spencer’s face grows into a grin, sitting up and grasping my waist again. His touch calms all my nerves and momentarily makes me forget that he’s the first man to ever see me like this. He’s the first man I’ve ever let myself be completely vulnerable around. He is the first person I let see my scars and my piercings and as terrifying as it is, his soft gaze makes my anxiety drift away.

He traces his fingers over one of the scars on my stomach, then drags it down to the silver jewel in my bellybutton. “I didn’t know you had piercings.” I reclaim my spot on Spencer’s lap and wrap my arms around his neck, bringing my lips down to his in an attempt to silence the conversation. It works because Spencer is shimmying out of his pants and tossing them haphazardly away.

Spencer flips us over so I’m pinned under him, his lips traveling down to the metal bars in my nipples. “You’re so beautiful, Lia.” He presses his lips to each and every scar on my stomach before grazing his teeth on the hem of my panties. “You can tell me if you ever want to stop, okay?”

I really and truly never thought I’d ever fall in love with someone like Spencer. I never thought that I’d fall in love at all. I thought that all men would be like the asshole I lost my virginity to, who laughed at my crooked bellybutton ring and asked countless questions about the scars that I didn’t want to talk about. 

I didn’t think I’d find anyone as amazing as the man above me right now. I didn’t think I’d find anyone as amazing as the man who kisses me with every thrust of his hips and brushes my hair behind my ears and listens to the way my body speaks. He double and triple checks that the condom is on correctly and asks if I need to use lube. He touches me in every spot that craves attention and switches our position when my legs cramp up. He intertwines our fingers and circles my clit when I ask him to. Spencer is the sweetest lover and, even when we’ve both worked our bodies to exhaustion, he rolls over and presses kisses over the hickeys he left on my neck. I try to lift myself on my elbows to clean myself up, but Spencer pushes my shoulders back down. He tells me to stay there, then returns from the bathroom with a towel to clean me up. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer wonders, pulling the duvet over the both of us after tossing the towel back into the bathroom. “Do you need anything?”

I roll onto my side and bury my face in Spencer’s neck, still struggling to catch my breath. “Spencer, no man has ever made me cum. Ever. Much less three times.”

Spencer furrows his eyebrows, pushing my hair out of my face and tracing his fingers over the bruises on my neck. “Was it too much?”

“No! Oh my god, no, dove. That was absolutely amazing,” I pull his hand away from my neck and kiss his palm, scooting as close as I possibly can to his body and soak up the warmth that radiates off of him. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too.” Spencer presses a kiss to my swollen lips and even though his body language does the opposite, he pulls away from me. “I hate to ruin the moment but you should go to the bathroom. You’re more likely to get a UTI and if a UTI goes untreated it can cause a kidney infection. It’s a common myth to think that a UTI can turn into an STI like chlamydia, but that’s completely not true.”

I hold back my giggle, running my fingers through Spencer’s sweaty hair, pushing it away from his eyes the same way he does to me. “Dirty talk is your strong suit.” 

“Is that sarcasm?” Spencer raises his eyebrows at me as I start to climb out of bed and wander towards the bathroom. “Was it not good?”

“I’m only joking, sweet face. You were amazing. The best I’ve ever had.”

Spencer grins the proudest grin I’ve ever seen. “Really?”

“I just told you that no man has ever made me cum but that you made me cum three times. Yes, you’re the best.”

“Hmm,” he hums, falling onto his back again and tucking his hands behind his head, “yeah. I’m the best.”

I lean over the bed one more time and kiss Spencer’s cheek. “You’re adorable, dove.”

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