#i have a call that's stressful enough already

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 The Three-Month Rule.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: The first time you decide to skip the celebration and go to bed early, and the first time Spencer decides to drink and open his heart to you after knowing you're leaving for three months.

Words: 5,5k (very long).

TW: fem!reader. spencer from the first seasons with glasses meow (my fav)+also he is a little drunk and lovesick puppy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: These two are probably one of my favorites, this felt so warm to write and before you ask, yep, I've been thinking about a part two (maybe even more, who knows).

♡ Enjoy! ♡

I. Moonlight ⏾

The night after closing a case with a positive outcome often involved celebratory drinks and lengthy discussions about everyday topics. For you and your colleagues, it was a rare opportunity for relaxation. It was a way to temporarily distance yourselves from the challenging situations you had encountered. A great way to relieve stress.

Typically, you would choose to remain in the chair situated in the center of the bar and sip your drink at a leisurely pace, allowing it to last all night as you chatted and shared lighthearted banter about various topics, though you would never discuss work. You were always smiling, as if nothing unfortunate had ever happened. And you always looked beautiful, so distant and impossible to catch.

Spencer always looked at you, biting his tongue to keep from sputtering out all the words that struggled to come out every time his eyes fell on yours. He didn't even take a sip of the drinks that were offered to him. As a rule, he didn't drink alcohol at all, and he liked it even less when he knew it could affect how he saw you. So clearly. So real. As if you were the most amazing work of art he'd ever seen, even if he wasn't very familiar with art.

Tonight, sadly, everything was different.

He had not been able to indulge in that particular pleasure of admiring you because you had chosen to return to your room rather than stay with the rest of the team at the hotel bar. It was a lie to say that it had not caught his attention. You had always stayed, even for a glass of water. But now you were...away from everyone. And then he was too.

The time passed rather quickly after he had a couple of sips of different fruity cocktails, which he didn't think would have any effect. Spencer was very mistaken. He found himself walking to the elevator before he had a chance to think things through. It didn't take him long to reach your hotel room. His footsteps were soft but urgent enough to go to the outside of the door. He just wanted to see you, needed to see you, and was already anxious about the reason why he wasn't allowed to do it now.

His knuckles knocked softly on your door with a certain caution, as quietly as possible, but just loud enough for you to hear, as he did his best to keep everyone else from hearing it as well. His hair was slightly disheveled, his glasses were out of place, and the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his collarbones underneath.

“It's me. Reid.” He spoke just loud enough to be heard through the door, his voice slightly raspy but still as soft as ever. “Can I talk to you?”

The sound of his call echoed too loudly inside the empty hotel room. Everything in the place was silent, still, with no lights or air conditioning. The room was almost dark, except for the streaks of city lights filtering through the curtains that ran over the large windows. You had been lying quietly and staring at the ceiling for no more than a minute and thirty seconds, your eyes blank and fixed on the ceiling after waking up so suddenly.

You gradually rose to a seated position and proceeded to the door. Without hesitation, you opened it to find his eyes filled with concern.

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” Your voice was a little hoarse, and your eyes were still adjusting to the bright light in the hallway.

“I'm fine,” he replied, barely looking at your appearance. Your hair was a mess, and you looked sleepy. He hadn't realized how late it was. “Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”

Yes, of course. It was two o'clock in the morning.

You couldn’t hide the frown of confusion. It was late—far too late for a casual check-in—and yet here he was, standing before you with an air of unease that was so unlike him. “Don’t worry. What’s up?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe, trying to mask your concern.

Thousands of ideas crossed your mind at that moment. Maybe there was a new case, some new clue that would have reopened the four-day investigation that had just ended a few hours ago, or who knows what. The job was as unpredictable as your coworkers.

“I…” Reid’s words faltered before he even began, as if his thoughts were racing far ahead of him. His eyes flitted between you and the hallway, but he couldn’t seem to find the courage to make sense of his feelings, let alone speak them aloud. The alcohol was doing little to help his clarity of thought. It had been a few small sips; he had convinced himself, but now it was doing its work on his resolve. He was here. And he couldn’t walk away. “I was just…that.”

That's when you noticed something: he seemed a little off-balance, with a subtle flush on his cheeks and a lingering smell of alcohol. “Are you under the influence of alcohol, Dr. Reid?”

Oh. Oh. Oh.

If he was surprised to see you so sleepy, he got even more surprised by that question and by how close you've gotten to him. His eyes slightly widened at the close proximity between you both, his mouth slightly agape, and his brain almost completely frozen for a moment, before he shook his head quickly as an attempt to pull himself together. He cleared his throat before speaking, his words stumbling and incoherent.

“What? No, no, I’m not drunk.” He stammered, shaking his head as though trying to convince himself. “I just took a sip.”

Just a sip, two or three, after mentally rereading that ridiculous article about love he had read in one of the magazines in the lobby. The one that made him think about you and how you made him feel, the same one that revolutionized his emotions and his rational part to the point that he drank out of the wrong glass all night long.

“I see.”

Your gaze seemed to linger on his disheveled hair, unbuttoned shirt, mismatched glasses, and the subtle hint of color in his cheeks. You arched an eyebrow in response and took a small step forward to examine his face more closely. This was a version of him you were not entirely familiar with because Spencer Reid wasn’t a drinker.

“You seem a little nervous and flushed. Are you sure you're not drunk?” You asked with concern, noticing his demeanor.

Reid had to suppress a shiver when you moved even closer, nearly reducing his entire nervous system to a puddle of goo. He was incredibly aware of your proximity, like his brain had suddenly become hyperfocused on your existence and every move you made.

“Ah…y-yes, I'm s-sure I’m not-” He stuttered the words, feeling like a complete mess of nerves.

Something feels wrong…different.

You stepped forward, your eyes narrowing in on him, still uncertain but unwilling to leave him in such an odd state. “You’re sweating,” you observed quietly. “Come in. Sit on the bed. I have water.”

Without giving him the chance to refuse, you turned and walked into the room, leaving the door open for him to follow. He didn't even have a chance to react before he found himself inside your room, feeling like he was in a whole different world. Even though he was familiar with the space, as his room was exactly the same, somehow yours felt more comfortable and cozy.

Spencer followed you to the bedside table, still feeling a bit shaky. The scent of your perfume and the quiet of the room made him a bit nervous, but before he could say anything, you offered him a glass.

“Thanks.” He said, taking the water and sitting on the edge of the bed.

As he sat down, the bed sagged slightly under his weight, and he felt a surge of nervousness. Being alone with you in your hotel room suddenly felt incredibly intimate, and he found himself taking small sips of water to keep himself grounded. The drink was refreshing, but it didn't do much to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest. He avoided looking at your figure standing in front of him, focusing instead on the glass in his hands, fidgeting and nervously bouncing his leg.

“Okay, I have to ask now. You showed up at my door out of nowhere, looking like you'd just run a marathon, flushed like a tomato, and reeking of alcohol to boot.” You said, sitting down on the bed next to him. “So what brings you exactly here?” Your voice seemed to ring in his ears.

You. Only you. Forever you.

“I, uh, I came here to...I came here to...talk. I wanted to talk.” He managed to stammer, his eyes fixed on the glass of water.

“To...talk?” You repeated, your voice bringing back his attention. He suddenly felt tongue-tied, like he forgot everything he wanted to say right then and there. “About what?”

You, again.

Reid fiddled nervously, bouncing his leg up and down, and he suddenly felt the urge to pull at his shirt, feeling his skin too warm and overheating under his clothes. Why did it suddenly feel so hot in there, in your hotel room? He found himself unable to maintain eye contact again, but this time he found bravery in the depths of his mind and he managed to speak.

“I, uh…” He paused for a moment, his words becoming shaky. “I just...I just wanted to talk about you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that answer. But before you could say anything, Spencer spoke again as his thoughts burst out unfiltered.

“You’ve been quiet. I mean, since the case, and you left the bar early. You’ve been...different, sort of...I mean, not different-” His stammering was cut off by a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. He was rambling, and he knew it; he could feel how warm he was under the heat of your gaze, but he couldn’t stop his words from coming out. “I heard about the job offer in New York that you've accepted.”

In that moment, you frowned, confused by the drama that perhaps the influence of alcohol in his system was bringing. The job offer was more of an internship than anything else, something temporary, just for three months, not a permanent change of scenery. But for some reason, hearing his words made your heart sink.

You hadn't really expected anyone on the team to be so affected by your leaving for a while; everyone seemed too wrapped up in their own business to wish you anything more than a good trip. After all, the world didn't stop spinning, and serial killers didn't stop killing because you weren't around. You didn't consider yourself that indispensable.

“I just, I don't know...” He mumbled, rubbing his face again, tired of his own thoughts. “I just...I feel like...I might miss you a lot.”

His eyes closed for a split second in fear, but then he looked at you and saw that you were smiling.

“You really drank quite a lot today.” Your tone was gentle as you carefully adjusted his glasses and took the empty glass from his hands. He hadn't even noticed that he had already finished all the water.

The feeling of your fingers on his glasses made his brain buzz for a moment, and he found himself wishing it would last for just a few seconds more. But then the glass was gone, and he was left there fidgeting with his hands.

“I know.” He muttered weakly, feeling the heat and alcohol taking a toll on him. His mind felt foggy, his thoughts swirling around and getting more tangled by the second. “But that’s besides the point.”

“Spencer, you’re being impulsive and emotional.” You said it bluntly, leaning forward slightly. “You were drinking earlier; you're all sweaty, and you're rambling. That's what alcohol does to you…you get overly reactive.”

His gaze shifted to the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed as he let out a shaky breath. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I am being impulsive and stupid, but…it doesn’t make it any less true.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you. There was a vulnerability in his tone that caught you off guard, like he was peeling back layers you hadn’t seen before. You studied him for a moment—the disheveled hair, the flushed cheeks, the way his shoulders slumped slightly under some invisible weight. This wasn’t the person you were used to—the analytical, composed genius who always seemed to have an answer for everything. This was someone raw, someone caught between logic and emotion, struggling to make sense of it all.

“I’m sure you’re incapable of being stupid,” you offered lightly, your tone tinged with a gentle tease, hoping to pull him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.

His head lifted, and his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I think I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a single breath, unpolished but heavy with sincerity.

Your heart stopped for a beat, your breath catching in your throat. “Oh.”

His confession hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the words settling like a weight in the room. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, as if realizing the enormity of what he’d just said, but there was no taking it back now. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he awaited your response, his vulnerability laid bare.

“You can be stupid, then.” You say it in a kind of joking tone, trying to process.

Does he love you? The same person you were afraid to touch so much for fear of making him uncomfortable. The same one who looked at you funny when you tried to fall asleep on the jet after drinking too much tea and said incoherent things. The one who always questioned your words with his statistics and exact data. Does he really love you? Can he do it?

It was impossible. Completely impossible.

“You’re a little too drunk to be saying things like that now,” you added gently, a note of concern creeping into your voice.

Carefully, you stood up, moving closer to him, your heart softening as you saw the way his fingers gripped the bed. He looked like he was already treading on the edge of something, but you weren’t sure he was in the right state to navigate it.

His brows furrowed slightly, a conflicted look crossing his face. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, though his words slurred slightly, and his eyes seemed unfocused. He shifted slightly but his balance was off, and his hand wavered as he reached for the glass that had once held water, only to stop and let it fall back onto the bedside table.

“No, you’re not,” you said softly, taking a step closer and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His warmth was comforting, but it only made you more aware of how fragile he seemed at that moment. “You’re exhausted, and you’ve had too much to drink. You need rest.”

He tried to look at you, his gaze unfocused and blurry. “I don’t want to sleep…not yet. I want to…I want to stay awake with you.” His voice faltered, as if the words were fighting to stay coherent. “Forever with you.”

Did you hear that right? He said…? Really?

“You’re not going to stay awake all night,” you say, talking firmly but kindly. You could see the drunkenness in his eyes, and you knew he needed more than just a glass of water or a few minutes to collect his thoughts. “And you’re staying here for sleep.”

His lips parted in confusion, but you didn't give him a chance to argue. You led him to the bed, supporting him as he swayed slightly. He was too drunk to protest in that moment. Then, you helped him lie down, adjusting the pillows behind him so that he was comfortable. And you also took the time to remove his glasses and shoes, placing them on the bedside table and the floor.

“I’m fine,” he murmured again, but this time it was barely audible, and his eyes were fluttering closed as he relaxed into the bed, his breath evening out. He was fighting sleep, but the weight of his exhaustion was too much for him to push back any longer.

After a brief period of reflection, you sit on the edge of the bed and observe him as he moves slightly. His face appears relaxed, and the tension from before seems to have dissipated. However, there is still a subtle vulnerability in his demeanor: open, unprotected, and exposed in a way you had never seen him before. This only serves to deepen your desire to care for him.

You gently reached over, tucking the covers around him and brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. “You’re too drunk to be making big decisions tonight, genius,” you whispered softly.

His eyelids fluttered open for a moment, his bleary eyes locking onto yours with a faint sense of clarity. “I didn’t…mean to make you uncomfortable,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “I care about you.”

A small smile appeared on your face, your heart aching as you brushed another strand of hair from his forehead. “I know,” you whispered.

His hand reached up weakly, grazing your wrist before falling back to the bed. He blinked a few times, his words coming slower now, as though the weight of sleep was already pulling him under. “I care about you so much,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time, as though he were fading away in the middle of his confession.

You let out a gentle sigh, your thumb brushing his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “I care about you too,” you said, your voice calm but filled with warmth, though you kept your tone soft to keep him relaxed. “But right now, you just need to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about all of this, okay?”

Spencer nodded weakly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Okay...” He murmured, his breathing muffled even more as his body relaxed on the bed and his gaze rested on you, on every feature of your face. “I think you're very pretty, and not just physically by genetics...you're very, very pretty. I could look at you forever, even if, technically, forever doesn't exist for humans.”

At any moment, your heart would leap out of your chest, or you'd probably vomit butterflies. It was too much sweetness in a Spencer way.

You remained by his side, sitting on the edge, keeping watch over him for a few moments. It felt strange, being so close to him in this way. You hadn’t expected this moment, hadn’t expected his confession.

But for tonight, all you could do was let him rest and let him find peace in his sleep. You brushed one last strand of hair away from his face, then, with a soft sigh, you stood and pulled the blankets up around him.

The silence of the room enveloped you as you settled into bed, careful not to disturb him. You remained seated for a moment, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, his features softened by sleep. In the darkness, Spencer seemed different, more fragile, more human. His usual confidence in every word that came out of his mouth, the brilliant mind that made him so formidable, gave way to something more tender.

You cautiously stretched out your legs and leaned against the headboard. Sleep still seemed a long way off, even though the fatigue of the long case closed in the afternoon weighed heavily on your body. But your thoughts refused to calm down and leave you alone for a moment. His confession kept repeating in your mind, driving you and your heart crazy.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a long, slow sigh, your fingers brushing the edge of the blanket wrapped around him. He stirred slightly, moving closer to your side as if subconsciously seeking your comfort and closeness. He tilted his head in your direction, a faint smile on his lips, and the sight brought a pang to your chest.

“What am I going to do about you, Spencer Reid?” You murmured to yourself, with a curious sensation in your chest.

You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as the questions began to tumble one after another. What if he hadn’t been drinking? Would he still have said those things? Did he even fully realize the gravity of what he’d shared, or was it just a moment of emotional release brought on by the late hour and the relief of a solved case?

And then there was your own reaction. The warmth in your chest, the protectiveness that surged when you saw him looking so vulnerable—it wasn’t new. You’d felt it before in smaller ways: a fleeting moment of connection during a case, a shared glance that lingered just a little too long. You’d always chalked it up to admiration or friendship, but now…

Now it felt like the beginning of a bridge you weren’t sure you were ready to cross.

Another sigh escaped you, and you tilted your head to glance at him again. His hand had slipped out from beneath the blanket, resting loosely against the mattress. Without thinking, you reached out and let your fingers brush against his, barely touching. His skin was warm, his presence grounding in a way you didn’t quite understand but didn’t want to question.

II. Sunlight ☀︎

The first thing you noticed when you woke was the soft warmth of sunlight spilling through the blinds, bathing the room in a quiet, golden glow. It was a still moment, the world outside almost silent, save for the faint hum of traffic far below. For a second, you weren’t sure where you were. The unfamiliar bed, the softness of the sheets, the absence of noise..it all felt distant, like a dream you couldn’t quite grasp.

But then you felt it, a slight weight on your arm. You turned your head slowly, your eyes softening as you took in the sight of Spencer still asleep beside you. His face was turned towards you, half-hidden by the pillow, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. His hand lay just a breath away from yours; his body curled slightly, seeking warmth and comfort. The usual lines of stress and guardedness that creased his features during the day were gone, replaced by a peace you rarely saw. He looked unguarded, almost childlike in his vulnerability, and it made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain.

For a moment, you just watched him, your mind replaying the events of the night before. Especially the way he’d reached for your hand, even in his half-conscious state, like it was instinctive and natural.

And now, here you were, lying next to him, watching him sleep like it was normal and meant to be.

You shifted your position slightly, being careful not to disturb him, and sat up, propping yourself up on your elbow. The room was silent, except for the faint hum of traffic. That stolen morning moment felt intimate to you, and you found yourself wondering how much Spencer would remember when he woke up.

Would you regret it? Would you want to go back and erase it all? Would he stop talking to you forever?

But then, it was almost as if he was meant to give you all those answers because he stirred. His hand moved, his breathing changed, and slowly but surely, his eyes opened. At first, Reid was dull and unfocused as he blinked in the morning light, feeling a sharp headache. Then, as he realized where he was, you saw his expression change: confusion, a flash of concern, and finally recognition.

“Morning,” you said softly, trying not to startle him.

He blinked again and frowned, feeling a twinge in his head. “Morning,” he replied, his voice groggy. He glanced around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the tangled blankets, and then you.

You were sitting on the bed next to him—the first thing he saw when he woke up and the first person to greet him. It was just like the kind of dream he'd been having lately—only this time he wasn't asleep.

A brief silence fell as the pieces seemed to click into place in his mind. His lips parted slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Last night…”

You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though your heart was racing, unsure of what he might remember, or worse, what he might regret. “You remember?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady.

His hand came up to rub his forehead, trying to shake the lingering fog of sleep. “I think so,” he said slowly. “We finished the case. We went to the bar.” His voice faltered, and his eyes dropped to the bed, as though searching for something solid in the scattered blankets to steady him. “I came here and said…some things, didn’t I?” His words hung in the air, filled with hesitation and a growing sense of discomfort. His cheeks flush, and he quickly looked away from you, almost embarrassed.

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “You said a lot of things.”

Spencer’s cheeks deepened in color, his hand dragging down his face as if that could somehow shield him from the weight of the moment. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”

You frowned, leaning forward slightly. “You don’t have to apologize. Not for talking to me.”

His eyes flicked to yours, searching your face for any hint of reproach or discomfort, but all he found was warmth. Still, he hesitated, his fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket. “I was drunk, and that’s so embarrassing,” he murmured, his tone tinged with self-reproach. “I don’t even know if what I said came out right.”

“It came out right,” you assured him gently, reaching out to cover his fidgeting hand with yours. The touch stilled him, his wide, uncertain eyes locking onto yours. “And it was just the alcohol talking…I know, don’t worry.”

He stared at your hand covering his, his throat working as if trying to form the right words. He didn’t pull away; if anything, he seemed to steady himself in your touch, though his voice wavered when he finally spoke. “It wasn’t just the alcohol,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “I don’t want you to think that it made me say something I didn’t mean. Everything I said was true.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the vulnerability in his eyes made the words catch in your throat. He held your gaze, his fingers unconsciously brushing against yours as though grounding himself in the moment.

“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he continued, his cheeks still faintly pink but his voice growing steadier with each word. “I didn’t know how to tell you. And then last night, I guess…I couldn’t hold it back anymore.”

His honesty was like a punch to the chest, leaving you breathless and unsure of how to respond. You hadn’t expected this level of candor, not so soon, and certainly not first thing in the morning. You pulled your hand back gently, needing space to think, though the warmth of his touch lingered like an echo.

He really meant every word.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice cracking. You bit your lip, searching for the right words. “I don't know what to say. It was all so sweet and nice to hear, but I'm not sure I'm ready to find out what this means, especially not with–”

“The distance,” he finished for you, his voice soft but resigned. He looked down, nodding slightly as though he’d anticipated this. “You’re leaving for New York soon.”

You exhaled slowly, relieved that he understood but also pained by the way his shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly. “It’s just three months,” you said gently, though the words felt hollow.

“I know, since I found out I did the math, and it's three months and four days.” He pointed out, almost not noticing that your cheeks had flushed slightly. “What I need to know is if you...if you have feelings for me, as more than friends.”

“Yes, I do.”

At that moment, it seemed that after almost a year of hiding his heartbeat for your sake, he could finally let his heart beat as much as he wanted.

But then you talk again.

“But it’s not fair to either of us to make any big decisions now, when I have to leave soon. I don’t want to risk ruining what we already have if we…if something doesn’t work.”

He looked at you, his expression serious. “But what if it works well?” Reid asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no despair in his tone, only quiet hope. “What if it's so much better that we have between us now? Isn’t that worth the risk?”

His question settled between you, heavy and unanswerable in the moment. It wasn’t desperate or pleading—it was simply Spencer, laying his heart bare with a quiet hope that made your chest ache.

“I'm not sure,” you replied, your expression thoughtful. “Three months is a significant amount of time,” you added, striving to acknowledge his feelings while maintaining a degree of caution.

“I can wait if it's for you. I can.” He replied without hesitation.

The unwavering certainty in his voice and the calm patience he offered you were more than you expected. Perhaps even more than you thought you deserved.

“You shouldn’t have to wait for me,” you said softly, your gaze falling to the sheets. “It’s not fair to ask that of you.”

Spencer shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t ask,” he replied gently. “This is my choice.”

“What if the distance changes things? What if we lose this…connection?” you asked, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice steady but kind. “Like I said, it’s not like I haven’t done the math before. Three months isn’t forever, and if what we feel is real, then it won’t fade.”

In that moment, it was like a light bulb went off in your head, and the perfect solution just came to you.

“Exactly.” You pointed out with a small smile. “You know the three-month rule?”

Never before had you seen Dr. Reid confused, denying knowledge of any subject. It was as if the alcohol of the night before had caused a circuit breaker in his brain, or else you had no explanation for having to explain something he didn't know, and you did.

“A few weeks ago, I was drinking coffee and overheard a woman at the next table talking about how the first three months between two persons are enough to indicate whether they have a future or not.” You began to explain quickly, feeling a bit strange at how the usual roles between you seemed to have been turned upside down. “You know, if they're going to make it as a couple.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered your words. “You mean…is like a trial period?” he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.

You nodded, feeling a flicker of nervous energy coursing through your entire body. “Yes, that's exactly it. So we don't have to put a label on it right away or rush into it. But we could call, text, talk, maybe visit...just see how it feels. And when I officially come back, we'll know if it's something we really want to pursue.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying yours as though weighing the sincerity in your suggestion.

“Okay,” he said, his voice soft but resolve. “Three months. We’ll figure this out.”

Relief flooded you, though it was tempered by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. “Three months,” you repeated, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “And we’ll talk. Be honest. No expectations and the assurance that we can be friends again if we want.”

Spencer’s smile grew a fraction, and this time, when his hand reached for yours, it was deliberate. “Honesty,” he echoed, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles. “I can do that.”

For the first time that morning, the tension between you eased, replaced by a fragile but undeniable sense of hope. It wasn't a resolution, not quite, but it was a step forward, a promise to try. And for now, that was more than enough.

Because night before, you'd gone to bed early, thinking you didn't have much of a future at the BAU. But now you had Spencer with you in a way you'd never thought possible, and everything feels right.

[mintmatcha]

I am so soft for father figure Shinsou, thank you for giving me something I didn’t know I needed. Just doing everyday things with him and him being soft towards you child is giving me life.

Casual. That's the word you used to describe what the meeting should be. Casual.

"He's a good boy, for the most part." Your bag is already stuffed full of toys and towels and other miscellaneous things that Shinso can't imagine you'll need. "His dad spoils him, so he might be a little bratty at first- we're working on it. Well, I'm working on it. His dad is--"

You kneel down and start rummaging through your things.

"Uh, don't let him guilt you into buying him snacks, please. He's got a severe nut and seed allergy and it's just easier if I take care of it all. There's snacks in here, along with two epipens. There's two more in the red cabinet in the kitchen, just in case we ever need them. "

Somehow, you manage to wiggle out the sunscreen for your bag without collapsing the whole pile. You dollop a bit on your fingers.

"Once they get here, we'll go straight to the park and hang out there for just a little bit. The book says the first meeting should be short and we should give him other things to focus out so he doesn't stress out." Your shoulders are bunched by your ears. "It'll be super casual. Easy. No stress."

Shinso kneels down next to you and dips a finger in the sunscreen.

"No stress," Shinso repeats back, dotting the sunscreen on your nose. It's enough to urge a smile out of you.

"Sorry, I know I'm--" You toss your hands in the air, frazzled, but with a smile. "This is a big deal."

"I know it is."

"We've only been dating for eight months," you say/ "What if we're jumping the gun? I don't want to put him through this if-"

"I'm not planning on breaking up with you." Ever. Shinso wouldn't have agreed to this if he wasn't completely sure that you were the one for him. It's not that he doesn't like children, it's that he's never spent time with any. Only child, no cousins: he doesn't know anything about kids other than the fact he used to be one.

You reach other and dot Shinso's nose with sunscreen. Now, you're matching.

"You might break up with me after you see what I'm dealing with."

Shinso takes your hand. "I'm not going to leave because you have a kid."

"I was talking about his father," you heave out a sigh. "They'll probably be late, by the way."

-

They are late.

Significantly.

It's six hours past the allotted time, filled with weak excuses from you. The television has rolled into the second season of some trashy show, but neither of you are really watching.

"He always loses track of time," you repeat for the twentieth time, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. Shinso is long past disappointed, well into the area of 'pissed'. Mostly at your ex, partially at you, for letting it happen.

"He's still not calling you back?"

"No," you say, just like you've said before. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have let him know about you, he's just-- I dunno. Playing games with me again."

It contextualizes a lot of your behaviors, actually. The anxiety about getting home, the days you go radio silent, the dates where you suddenly have to run off and collect your child: he imagines there's a lot of bullshit games that happen between you two.

"You let him treat you like this?"

"He's my baby's father. I can't just..."

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis: 

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime?

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson deals with being denied access to his heart's desire and flashes back to the start of their romance while Imani wrestles with her feelings present day. Warnings: Smut (18+), toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you're white and read it, you owe us $20), manual stimulation (fingering, okay?), dick size mention, dirty talk -- if we missed anything, let us know! Word Count: 5.3k Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

CHAPTER TWO: Someone to Love

he was blocked. jameson watched his repeated texts and calls go unanswered. the texts said delivered but never read. this was when he was supposed to decide if he was going to stick around for another round of bullshit with her. flashes of the night before came to mind...and he knew the answer was 'yes'. she was ignoring the fuck out of him but he knew imani loved him. she may be able to live without him...but she loved him. maybe that would be enough. "yo, are you listening to me?"

jameson blinked at his best friend, giving the man a blank stare. ellington dupree had been his friend and writing partner for damn near a decade. their connection was instant. where jameson was blessed with a wealthy and well-known mother, ellington had gotten it out the mud. he was a man that knew music inside out all his life. he had a work ethic that jameson envied. it was why he only produced music with ej -- they balanced each other out. where he allowed muse to take over, ej controlled the music. he didn't let it control him. even now, they were supposed to be working on a track from his new album but jameson couldn't seem to find his focus. all he did was wait for imani to call him back.

"yeah, i heard you." "then what i say?"

he gave ellington a glare before rising from his spot on the couch. "something about the horns." ellington tsked, kicking back in his chair before shaking his head. "i said that shit ten minutes ago, nigga. we on a whole nother track. what's up with you?"

jameson didn't answer -- instead he redirected his attention to his phone, texting imani again as he exited his friend's home studio. he heard ej calling his name but descended the stairs anyway.

he watched as another text went through and the message popped up delivered. jameson rolled his eyes, tossing his phone onto the couch as he stared at the ceiling with his hands on his hips. this girl was going drive him crazy.

"are you insane?" "i'm not in the mood right now, e." "yeah, no shit. but you need to get in the mood for something other than imani. YOU wanted to release this album at the top of the year. YOU said you were ready so they've already started promoting the shit."

he lifted his head to deny that he was stressing over imani but the realization hit him hard. "how the fuck you know i was texting mani?" jameson watched as ej rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on the couch. "how the fuck wouldn't i know? you always get tense and weird over her. it's been a while since she had you fucked up like this though. what happened?"

jameson sighed, closing his eyes to avoid the look on his friend's face when he confessed the truth. he sat down opposite ej and leaned back onto the cushions.

"we fucked." "bullshit." "it's true." "WHEN?!" "last week." "i thought she was dating...what's that nigga name? the football nigga!" "they broke up two months ago." "how the fuck you know that?" jameson gave ej a look and avoided the obvious answer. "oh, you are insane." "it was random. we didn't plan that shit." "she probably didn't." "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" "fuck it sound like?"

his eyes opened as he frowned at ej. if anyone had seen how bad it could get between he and imani, it was ej. "i didn't go over there to have sex, man. i just...i wanted to see her. i've missed her all this time. i just couldn't take that shit anymore."

a flash of sympathy crossed his best friend's face but it disappeared within a moment. "don't do this, jamie. don't. you can't walk down this road with imani again."

ej was probably right, jameson knew that. but he also knew that he wasn't walking away from her again. he glanced over at the phone that he abandoned, willing it to ring or beep or something. anything to let him know she gave a shit. "can't help it." he murmured to his best friend. "i want her."

this was the biggest night of his life...and he found that he didn't care. his gaze was stuck on a woman who had walked past him. none of this shit really mattered anymore. he wanted to know her. he had a tony award. he had two grammys already. he was nominated for another three that night but as he leaned over in his seat to watch her saunter down the rest of the aisle, jameson found himself smiling for entirely different reasons.

"i want her." he said bluntly. only ej acknowledged him. he said 'huh?' but his gaze followed her the same way jameson's had. 'ohhhh' was all he uttered, giving a laugh.

she had her back to them so he had no idea who the hell she was but he had the urge to. four awards from his own and he wasn't watching the stage. he wasn't talking to his collaborators or friends to the right of him. he was watching her. a couple of people rose to let her into her seat and jameson found himself doing the same. he stood to his feet, adjusting his tux's jacket as he made his way towards her.

ej called his name but he didn't respond. this was more important. he got to the aisle and dropped to his haunches, learning forward to catch her eye. he recognized her then. imani. there were people next to her who peered over at him in confusion but jameson's smile was only for her. 

"excuse me." he said softly, bracing his hands against the seat next to him. she looked at him, eyebrow quirked at his audacity to interrupt her conversation. "hi. i just...i'm sorry. i just wanted to come tell you something you already know. you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen in my life."

if she recognized him or was impressed by his attention, it didn't show on her face. jameson watched her give a little laugh and haughtily respond. "thank you." she said. "how many other women have you used that on tonight?"

"none." he replied honestly. "i saw you and next thing i know, i'm over here practically on my knees to talk to you." jameson ignored the woman next to imani clearing her throat. it was a public conversation but he carried it on as if they were the only two in the room. free from a relationship that had lost it's fire, jameson hadn't been looking for anybody. he wanted to invest in his career again and after two hit albums -- it was time for something new. money, cars, clothes, and women had been his life since he was eighteen and old enough to spread the thighs of any and every woman in hollywood. he'd been over it. but this was important. getting this girl felt like it'd be life changing.

he leaned forward, offering the woman his hand. "i'm jameson." he surprised himself by giving his full name. often, he introduced himself as james. nobody actually in his life called him jameson but his mother. he had the urge to hear his name from her lips. "i know who you are, ms. imani st. cirie. future best new artist winner." her eyes lit up at the fact that he had recognized her. she hadn't topped the charts yet but he knew it was a matter of time. her music was raw. real. she touched people and he knew her time was coming.

when she took his hand, he brushed his thumb against the back of her fingertips. the people they had their hands stretched across didn't matter. hell, he had forgotten other people could hear them when she responded. "nice to meet you jameson." she said. "you can call me ms. st. cirie. your face looks so familiar. i just can't put my finger on it."

jameson laughed out loud -- loud enough that people on the aisle in front of them turned to identify the sound. he'd been famous from birth. paparazzi shots of him hanging off his mother's hip had been tagged in people magazine. pictures of them at the park. his high school yearbook had been blasted across myspace and twitter. and when he started making music himself? well, he became a teen heartthrob at 19. he didn't believe her but he liked that she didn't fall over him. "that's strange." he replied with a shrug, slowly grinning at her. "but since you can't remember, maybe this is your chance to get to know me...personally. i'll be honest, ms. st. cirie -- i'm dying to get to know you."

her gaze roamed his face but her lips curved into a smile. "and why should i do that?"

"i heard i'm a good time." "and this is where the line of women come in, yes?" "we're not talking about other women. we're talking about you and me, ms. st. cirie."

imani gave her friend a look and the friend automatically rose, shifting down a seat. her gaze came back to him and she nodded her head, wordlessly giving him approval to sit next to her. jameson rose from his position at the end of the aisle, ignoring the ache in his calves and thighs. he'd been squatting for so long but hadn't noticed it. all he saw was the fact that he was making strides towards what he wanted.

"you don't feel this thing between us?" he asked her curiously. somehow, he had sat without losing contact with her for longer than a few seconds. he switched the positioning, holding her hand in his right. she tsked, yanking her hand from his grasp and shook her head. "i don't feel anything. i just think you're funny."

jameson leaned towards her, keeping his voice low enough so that it would take others effort to eavesdrop on their conversation. "i could tell you shit you already know. that you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen. that i want you so bad i don't really know what to do with myself. would that help? i want you. and from the way you look at me, i think you want me too. so what are we going to do about it?"

"that was a good line, jameson." "i'm not giving you lines. i'm trying to get you where you need to be." "need to be?" "definitely." "you so fucking cocky." "i got reason to be. ms. st. cirie...will you go out with me?" "you don't give up, do you?" "no. not easily."

he could tell that she liked that. despite giving him a hell of a lot of attitude, her fingers fidgeted nervously on her lap. she either liked him or didn't know how to say no. jameson reached for her hand again, gently stilling her fingertips. she didn't seem alarmed or afraid then. she relaxed before meeting his gaze.

"no pressure. i think you're beautiful. i admire your mind. your music. your talent. give me one chance to show you that." determined to not miss out on the good thing sitting right next to him, jameson did his best to show her he was serious...but he took a risk and lowered his head, pressing a kiss to her thumb -- the first contact between them that wasn't totally innocent.

his gaze flickered up to hers and he knew he had her. she went soft, leaning in as if she were going to let him kiss her -- but she remembered where they were. "And the Grammy for Best R&B Performance goes to...U Don't Have to Call! James Lucas!"

jameson didn't move from his seat. he didn't take his eyes off her. imani looked between him and the stage, expecting him to go up but he didn't. this was more important. eventually, ej got up. his best friend gave the speech that jameson likely would have given but he didn't hear the words. imani leaned closer so he could near her, whispering "okay. one date." against his ear.

jameson smiled, turning his head to offer imani a kiss. not even twenty minutes after meeting and he was going for it. he had always been an ambitious man. just as he hoped, she took him up on the offer. she leaned in and their lips met. it was brief but served as the spark that ignited their obsession with each other.

it took two whole weeks for their schedules to line up. photoshoots, interviews, and a sudden trip to new york had kept him from what he really wanted. anticipation had been a bitch but they filled the time in between with texts and phone calls. he had discovered that imani was both smart and funny. she could make him burst out laughing over the smallest thing. she seemed to be a good person and that appealed to him. he seemed to really be into this girl. so much so that he browsed her instagram, constantly looking for things she liked. what flowers she enjoyed. people she liked having conversation with. knowing little things about her had spiraled into wanting to know everything about her. he was down so bad that ej had been disgusted when he walked into studio in the middle of the night and caught him giggling on the phone with her like a teenager.

finally, they got to see each other again. standing alone in the vastness of the getty museum, he and imani kept their fingertips intertwined. the only sounds were the soft echo of their footsteps on polished floors. The museum had been closed for the night, but the director had made an exception just for them — a private tour. No crowds, no distractions. Just the two of them and all the art they'd agreed to pretend they were paying attention to. jameson's kept straying to her. everything about her was mesmerizing. the way her hair fell into her eyes, the cute little way she'd snuggled into him when he hugged her when he met her outside. the sweet way she swung their hands as they walked. he was gone over this girl and didn't know what to do about it.

“so,” she said, breaking the silence with a teasing tone, “you go to museums all the time or is this just to impress me?”

he glanced around, his eyes glinting with amusement. “it's all for you. you got me stalking your instagram to see what you like. i saw you went to several museums around the world so..." he shrugged, looking at her to see she was surprised at what he'd said. “but what do you like?” she asked him. jameson laughed. "you." he answered easily enough.

she fell silent again as they continued on. the views of los angeles almost as magnificent as the art. they entered a gallery that seemed to be a study in light and shadow, with large, dramatic sculptures. he was comfortable even in the silence with her. felt like they were the only people in the world, the art surrounding them like a secret they were sharing, just the two of them.

“i think i like you too.” imani said softly. her tone didn't hold the same teasing as before. she was serious. jameson dipped his head to get a good look at her and stopped walking to face her. "why do you sound so sad when you say that?"

"because i don't know if i can trust you." imani said softly. jameson couldn't promise to be the picture of fidelity. he'd cheated once before in a relationship but that didn't seem to be the best thing to say to a woman you wanted to be with. "you can trust how i feel about you. i swear -- i have never felt like this in my life. you got me kicking my feet and twirling my hair and shit, girl. i got it bad." she gave him a short laugh, shaking her head, but he was pleased to see her smile again. "you gave me a chance for a date now give me a chance to show you that i want to be your man."

"my man? you moving kind of fast, ain't you?" "hell yeah. i'm trying to lock you down before a billionaire prince pull up on you out of nowhere." "you can't compete with a billionaire?" "absolutely not. i can't buy you a private island." "then what good are you?" "i can sing. i'm good looking. i give good dick. which reason work for you?"

"boy, bye!" imani pulled away, laughing abruptly as she waved him off. jameson followed closely, not wanting her to go too far from him. "where you going?" he asked her, holding on to her hand. imani snorted, pointing at the art across the room. "over there because you playing!" jameson's laughter echoed through the space and joined hers as she tried to shake him off. "nahhhh. come play with me over here."

her smile deepened, a challenge flickering in her eyes. "i'll play with you later." jameson stepped closer to her, pulling her close. "i'ma hold you to that." even in heels, she stood a few inches shorter than he was. he couldn't get over how fucking beautiful she was. pretty ass dark brown eyes. pretty ass nose that lead down to full, gorgeous lips. he couldn't even think about her body. he liked everything about this girl and acting like he didn't wasn't possible.

his hand moved to the small of her back, fingertips splayed as he kept her body against his. "you hungry?" imani nodded her head, her hands braced against his shoulders. jameson moved them side to side, swaying even though there was no music playing. "i got you. let me take care of you."

they ate dinner in the museum, specially made by a private chef --totally surrounded by art. jameson was pleased to see that she was excited. he was just as giddy. imani sat on his lap as they traded stories about work, their inspirations, and what they each wanted out of a relationship. they found they had several things in common -- big things and little things. family relationships, foods, even their favorite Disney movie. it was all the same. jameson wasn't the type to believe in love at first sight but he really did start to wonder if god put this woman in his life for a reason.

they left holding hands. he let her slide into his benz, intent on driving her home to complete an evening of being the perfect gentleman. the drive to her malibu home was filled with jokes, conversation, and singing along to songs on the radio. the tension between them remained but it was joined by comfort. they were truly starting to understand each other.

by the time they arrived to her place, he had made up his mind. he was going to give it all he had. he liked imani st. cirie -- and hopefully, she liked him too.

the warmth of the car enveloped them as jameson slid to a stop in front of her home. the chemistry between them made saying goodbye difficult. he didn't want to say goodnight to her. jameson turned the car off, attempting to gather his thoughts. he didn't want the last thing he said to her to be stupid. when he turned to say something -- he found imani was already staring.

it was like they moved at the same time. he unbuckled his seatbelt and before he could say a word, she had done the same. the world outside faded away as he damn near crowded her in the passenger seat. he could feel her heart race, each beat echoing in his head. he leaned in, their lips meeting briefly, before he heard her panting.

the kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both savoring the sweetness of their new attraction. But soon, it deepened—hunger replaced hesitation. their lips moved in a rhythm that felt both familiar and foreign, pulling them deeper into each other's orbit.

imani moaned as his tongue found hers and jameson couldn't believe how good it sounded. he placed his hand against her thigh, grasping tightly as if he could pull her any closer. the middle console kept them further apart than he wanted them to be. when her hand came down and pulled his fingers higher up her thigh, jameson didn't hesitate.

her hands framed his face, thumb gently brushing his cheek as they kissed. his hand moved further up her thigh, brushing against the silk fabric of her dress. when the pad of his thumb brushed against her panties, she gasped.

it felt like an eternity before she caught her breath and gave him a quick moan. with expertise, jameson swept her underwear aside and pressed his thumb between her folds. she was already wet and made it easy for him to wedge his finger into her. imani's lips parted in surprise when he pressed against her. jameson took the opportunity to bite her lower lip -- brushing his tongue against it as her thighs tightened around his hand.

"i can't make you moan like that again if you don't keep your legs open. let me in." he whispered when he released her lip, pleased when imani immediately opened her legs for him. she reached down and pulled her dress higher, hips rising from the seat as she did so. he caught a flash of the thongs she wore as she pressed her ass to his leather seats.

they were both breathless, not taking the time to go inside her house or even move to the back seat. imani reached for him again, pulling his head across the space and kissing him deeply as jameson's hand went right back between her legs. she whimpered and moaned as he played with her clit -- teasing them both by thumbing and then circling the sensitive spot. by the time she was whining against his mouth, his dick was hard.

to his surprise, imani reached across the seat and placed her hand in his lap. the surprise spurred his fingers forward. his index and middle finger were soaking in her wetness as his thumb tapped her clit. imani's head fell back as he hissed, breaking the kiss to shake his head. "let me focus on you."

mani didn't pull her hand away. instead, she grasped his dick -- squeezing gently as her hips rocked onto his fingers. they slid in and out effortlessly. jameson twisted and delved deeply, pulling a variety of noises from the back of imani's throat. "she talkin' to me, mani." he prompted her. she groaned, riding his hand as quickly as she could. "you hear her? i bet i can make her talk some more."

the squelching and squishing echoed through the car. his palm and other fingers were soaked as the wetness ran down his hand. imani nodded her head, breath catching in her throat as he twisted his fingers and looked for that spot -- that one spot that he knew would have her screeching within the confines of his car. when he found it, she froze -- her whole body slumping back against the seat. "yes! y-yeah. just like that." she cried. jameson followed her, watching her face as he picked up the pace. he spread her juices across her clit with his thumb. when she shut her legs around his hand again, he used his free hand to grasp her thigh. "don't run from it. let me have it."

there he was, leaning over the center console, doing his best to make her cum less than an hour after their first date had ended. he kissed her lips gently, moaning with her as she shuddered. "i--i'm--cum" she whispered, words escaping her as she struggled to give him just three. "i know, baby. i feel it. let go. i got you."

jameson nodded, licking his tongue against her quivering lips. she opened her mouth for more and he sucked her tongue into his mouth, kissing her deeply as imani came around his fingers. she squeezed him tightly but he didn't stop. those two fingers kept thrusting, thumb kept flicking at her clit until she squirmed out of his grasp. her hand moving from his lap to grasp at his wrist. he was hard as fuck, eight and a half inches practically throbbing in his boxer briefs as he tried not to nut on himself.

he forced himself to slow down then -- pleased when she whimpered and asked for more kisses. jameson supplied them happily, stroking her insides with his fingers to calm her down. when she was sated and humming happily against his mouth, he pulled his hand back. they watched each other for a moment -- imani blinked at him as he licked his fingers clean.

jameson's gaze swept down her body as if he wanted to remember her just like that -- legs open, panties pushed aside, pussy wet and satisfied from his efforts. once his hand was 'clean', jameson reached over again and righted her clothing. imani still hadn't said a word. even when he opened his door to get out of the car. when he opened her door, he offered her his hand -- the same one he'd used to get her off.

imani took it and exited the car. she didn't seem to be in a daze anymore. "this was...a wonderful date." she told him softly. "i wonder what you'll come up with next time." before jameson could say a word, she pressed her hand to his chest and lifted her head to give him a kiss. he accepted it happily, greedily even. they stood like that for a moment, kissing on the sidewalk. his arms wrapped around her waist, fingertips finding their way to that delicious ass. jameson squeezed briefly and imani broke the kiss. "call me." she told him with a smirk before walking away.

he didn't know if she smirked because she could feel how hard his dick was when she kissed him or if she knew that he was going to call her as soon as he got in the car. either way -- he was pretty sure that this girl was going to be the death of him.

her best friend sat across the room, sketching designs for her portfolio. if she wasn't so distracted, she would have noticed imani scrolling through her texts. she had unblocked jameson and found a flurry of text messages.

how are you? i miss you. can we talk? baby, i think we need sit down and talk this shit out. i love you, imani. i'm not fighting it anymore. please call me

how is it that he made her want to forgive him? it was like when they were talking or when he was in front of her -- she forgot the horrible shit he had done. she forgot the affair, she forgot the way he confessed. she forgot the way he only seemed to give his all when he felt like she was moving on from him. she hated the way he infiltrated her mind when she was with someone new. it seemed like she was doomed to keep falling for jameson -- and the thought scared her.

"just do it. you know you want to."

imani's gaze shot up from the phone to see genie peering over at her from her drawing table. despite being gorgeous enough to be a model, genie adesanya preferred to design the clothes. her curls were pinned to the top of her head and the glasses she wore were circular -- making her eyes appear even larger and more adorable.

she was southern by birth but her father was a lakers legend. a jersey-hanging-in-the-rafters-at-staples-center kind of legend. everybody loved genie. even jameson. she and he had practically been raised together when his mother and her father spent a few years dating but ultimately decided to remain friends. as close as they were, once imani stepped onto the scene -- she and genie became best friends. she took her side over jameson's. always. despite being total opposites persona wise, nobody understood imani better than genie did.

"he's blocked so i do not want to do anything." imani retorted, wrinkling her nose at her friend. she didn't bother to deny that they weren't talking about jameson.

genie got up from her drawing desk, smiling at imani as she made her way across the room and bounced down onto her friend's lap. imani quickly shoved her off with a snort and the two ended up slap boxing each other. "don't lie to me, girl!" genie yelled at her, avoiding imani's hands as she rolled off the couch and onto the floor. "you've been moping and sighing around here all week. you hiding from him?"

of course she was. jameson knew where genie lived but imani hoped that if he approached her there, genie wouldn't let them sneak off together. she was sick of falling into the same pattern with him. fight, break up, fuck, fall in love again. wash, rinse, and repeat. "i'm tired of this shit with him, genie." imani admitted, sighing softly.

genie sat up and pat her hand against imani's. "i know. but...the heart wants what it wants, mani. i'm not saying you should listen to me. i'm bad at love. I've made so many mistakes. but i can see what you really want. i know you. it's why i know jameson has lived in your head rent free for years, girl. and you live in his. i'm not saying you gotta trust him immediately. just -- just text him back. maybe it's a mistake but what if it isn't? what if y'all get it right this time?"

a true romantic at heart, imani admired genie's belief in love. she just wasn't sure she trusted it. she remained silent as genie gave her time to process. she returned to her drawing table, picking up the pencil and finishing her sketches in silence.

imani fiddled with her phone for a moment before groaning out loud. if this man broke her heart again, she was going to fucking kill him.

[ imani ] : what are you doing next week? [ blockdt unless horny ] : nothing. you want me? [ imani ] : i guess we can talk then. [ blockdt unless horny ] : why wait until then? wya? i can come there. [ imani ] : i'm at genie's but don't come here. [ blockdt unless horny ] : why not? [ imani ] : i need a minute, jamie. i didn't expect this and i don't know if this is the right decision for me. [ blockdt unless horny ] : i understand. i do. but baby, you and me have something. i fucked it up before but i'm not gonna fuck it again. i can't lose it twice. [ imani ] : we can talk about it next week. [ blockdt unless horny ] : okay. what day? [ imani ] : Thursday. i'll be back from Italy then. [ jamie ] : i already miss you. [ imani ] : i'll miss you too 🙄 [ jamie ] : lmfao i'll take that. i'ma do right this time, mani. i swear on my life. [ imani ] : we'll see. [ jamie ] : yes, we will. i try not to make mistakes but when i do, i only make them once. i'll be the man you deserve. i promise. [ imani ] : i really want to believe you [ jamie ] : we can start there, baby. that's a start.

[wolftarotcrafts]

I hope something resonates with you and you can find this helpful. ❤️

Pile One

Hey pile one already off the bat, I am getting love. If you have been single for a while, I definitely see you coming into union with someone. For some of you, this person is from your past, like a friend or an ex. If it is someone from the past, there is no bad blood, there is no toxic energy. For people who have been single for a while or for those of you who have never been in a relationship, I think you need to go back out there or finally go out there and meet new people. For whatever situation you are in, the advice is to be adventurous and embrace love. I am getting a romantic type of love, but for those that don't want that or aren't searching for that right now, the advice still stands by spending time with people that make you happy and loved, like friends and family. For others of you, the advice is to give that person a call or text, make a dating profile, take a class, you might even unexpected someone unexpectedly. Be adventurous and step out of your comfort zone and spread love every step of the way. I see many of you reconnecting or meeting someone special. Take the leap.

Extra : 4, 6, 8, 28, 35, music, songs, friend, dating, union, soulmate, proposal, eyes, younger, déjà vu, divine masculine, single, Aquarius, Scorpio Back to you by Louis Tomlinson ft Bebe Rexha.

Pile Two

Hi pile two. I see many of you are struggling emotionally and mentally. Many of you are under stress and have anxiety about something. I see for some of you this has to do with work or school. You feel overwhelmed by something, possibly a promotion, financial issues like debt, or finals. I feel for some of you there is a decision that needs to be made, but you feel at a crossroads and may be asking for signs. You don't know what direction you want to go in. I can see some of you just prolonging your hurt by keeping yourself trapped. Change will always find you, no matter how much you run. It will eventually catch up. Don't stress about things that you can't change or fix, because you will only be wasting your time. I do see many of you pulling yourselves up from the hole that you are in. Success is in reach. It's up to you to not give up and keep working towards your goals. And for some of you, you may find that you want to do a different career, and only you know what's best for you. Don't listen to what others want because it's your life, so live it. I want you to take three deep breaths and take out a journal about what you are feeling. Whatever thought you are having, whatever may weigh on your heart and mind. It's all up to you. 

Extra: 3, 6, 31, signs, toxic tendencies, sad, moving, decision, North America, Europe, A, Sagittarius, Aries, Scorpio, Aquarius, Leo, June, hardworking, journal, Sing the movie, "You know the good thing about hitting rock bottom; there's only one way left to go, and that's up."

Pile Three

Hello pile three, I see many of you. You need a push. There is something that you want to do, like start a business, start a new job, change career paths, go to school, start a new art project, write songs, or start a project. You are feeling inspired and energized, and you need to grab that feeling and nurture it. Feel the inspiration and use it. Go for whatever you want, and don't let it pass you by. If you want something in life, then go get it. If you fail or there are setbacks, you have to be brave enough to laugh at yourself and get back up. You are always going to stumble because, guess what? You are human, and as humans, we are always going to have things go wrong. You are the captain of your own ship, and every day is not going to be smooth sailing. Confidence is going to be your best friend, and I want you to always remember that you are good enough, no matter who tells you otherwise, because there will always be people who want to blow out your lights, but you will just have to show them and shine brighter. Now get up and go after what you want. 

Signs: Remember This NF, "You want something in life, then why don't you go and get it?" leadership, balance, meditation, and strength. 

[mias3cr3t]

Nanami x shy!reader

(This is my first smutty fanfic pls don’t judge and I would love to take recommendations!!!)

Warnings : smut, soft sex, oral (f receiving) , comfort, fingering, slight daddy kink , cuddling, crying MENTION OF BINGE EATING!!

Basically nanamis wife is stressed out and feeling insecure , and well u can just read , enjoy!!! Pls give me recs and tips!!

You arrive home , stressed , your boss won’t get off your case about how many missing files u have to do , and to add to that , you’ve been gaining a bit of weight due to stress eating. You throw your bag on the ground and kick your black heels off , nanami walks to you and hugs you but u push him off , confused , nanami quirks an eyebrow and frowns “baby ,what’s wrong?” You just roll your eyes and try walking away. “Love , cmere why are u being so distant?” Nanami walks infront of you, you don’t even have enough courage to speak , a lump forming in your throat , tears form in your eyes and you just slightly collapse your head onto his chest, silently crying and whimpering. “Oh baby..” he coos at you and rubs your back, “what’s wrong .. talk to me baby..” he sighs and gently puts your hair down , removing your clips and hair tie , gently rubbing your head in a soothing motion. “Mm.. stressed and overwhelmed..” you mumble , not wanting to say the rest to which nanami sighs , he can tell your not opening up fully. “Love.. that’s not all..” you sigh and look up, “I’m just an insecure mess..” before you can even continue he picks you up and Carries you to the bed , “nanami!” You exclaim and he just lays you down, you know what he’s gonna do , he always does it, before you can even speak he already is pulling your pants down and your soft cotton underwear, revealing your already slick cunny, you gasp, he just starts licking and sucking on your sensitive clit , he wants to make u feel better , he knows this will. He looks up at u with soft eyes as he suckles on your clit. “Mm.. fuck.. Ken..” you call him the nickname short for Kento, moaning and clutching his blonde locks between your fingers.he just groans in response and slips two fingers inside you, curling them gently. You gasp “daddy I can’t take two!” You whine . “Mm.. you can..” he mumbles and kisses your clit as he fingers u. He moves back up and unzips his pants . You feel his thick cock enter your needy hole and you moan. “Fuck!” You whine. You’ve already came twice and now all you can see is blurryness and your pussy feels wetter than ever , your slick slowly dripping down to the swell of your ass. “You look so pretty baby.. this is beautiful.. and this.. and this..” he mumbles as he kisses your tits , tummy and lips as he fucks you gently , knowing your sensitive and don’t need extra overstimulation. “How are u feeling now baby? Still stressed?” He asks gently , rocking his hips and rubbing your hips. “I’m okay.. ngh.. fuck daddy ..” you arch your back as another orgasm hits you, he feels it and smiles , gently pulling out.

“Cmere ..” he whispers and you crawl to his side , cuddling close to him as he rubs your side. You two just cuddle for a while and he reassures you and comforts you, god you love him.

[flo-fortescue]

Roleplay starter

After hours of freaking out about what he should wear, Florean is finally on his way to meet up with August. The sun is shining and warms his tanned skin, but Florean knows that this kind of weather isn’t to expect these coming weeks. The leaves on the tree branches have started turning a fiery orange seemingly overnight, and Florean has been too caught up in studying to notice until now. He’s thankful that Alice recommended he brought a sweater with him. He didn’t even think of talking a look outside before she reminded him.

It’s been a stressful week, and Florean is honestly getting kind of exhausted. He’s stayed up late studying a few nights in a row now (not to mention the night he stayed up talking to August to half past twelve) which isn’t like him. Of course, he always aims for as high grades as possible, but he isn’t the type of person who has to study a lot to get them. Usually all it takes is concentration from his side during lessons (which is the most challenging part about school for Florean), and now and then he needs to open a school book and read through the most important things, then he’s all set. He never complains about it, he actually really enjoys reading. But tests and essays… not as much.

“You should take this with August”, Alice told him the other day. “I’m sure he’ll understand if you tell him that you don’t have time to meet…”

Florean had a hard time trying to explain to her that he himself had told August that any time worked for him, and that he immediately said yes when August suggested a day, place and time.

“But why? You already knew about the Defence Against the Dark Arts essay, didn’t you? And the Potions test?”

”Er, yeah.” Florean grimaced before sheepishly running a hand through his hair. “I just… didn’t think about that until it was too late. And I don’t want to embarrass myself by cancelling last minute.”

“As if you’re one to avoid embarrassing situations”, Alice scoffed. Florean simply shrugged.

Then she’d suggested asking August about studying techniques and other tips to make studying easier for him. According to her, August spent a lot of time reading books and was very smart and ambitious. And Florean had tried, he really had, but every time he came across August at the library or on a bench somewhere out on Hogwarts grounds, he just didn’t have it in him to walk up and disturb the boy who so obviously was concentrating hard on studying. So he never did. A few times he sat down and watched from a distance, sometimes he just turned and left. But he never talked to August, outside of their late night conversation the other day.

And now here he is, on his way to the location August has planned for them. His lips are chapped, and it annoys him to no end. Suddenly he wishes he’d been thoughtful enough to bring his lipgloss or at least a chapstick, but it’s too late to turn back and go grab them now. He’s already running late.

When he arrives outside of the castle, he finds August already there, looking relaxed as he leans against a wall with his hands in his pockets. When Florean calls his name he looks over at the approaching boy and smiles.

[invcntions]

an unfair sense of relief floods through him at the other male's suggestion the prior night is blurry. it's selfish the sudden comfort that comes from hoping they might not have to pick up the conversation they left the night before — he won't have to stress the fact silas is single, won't have to go back on his own promise of being friends. of course it isn't enough when the other male deserves a clean break, but at least for a moment it makes the morning feel a little easier to survive when all he wants is to crawl back into the space next to silas on the mattress and stay wrapped up there until the world crumbles around them. “ i have aspirin. ” he nods quickly, fingers pushing blonde locks back from before his eyes as archie offers his ex a sympathetic smile. “ and coffee, d'you want a coffee? ” there's no chance for silas to answer before he's already moving through to the kitchen to start making them both one, rummaging through the drawers as the water boils in search for something that might help the male's headache. “ or i can cook if you want breakfast, though maybe not if you already feel nauseous — might be better to wait a while, just have water or something. ” he calls through, energy to the words dropping with each one that falls as the desperate attempt to cling to some sense of normalcy crumbles slowly around him. silas will leave shortly and it could be the last time he sees him. it should be the last time. in equal parts he wants it to be over with and dragged out as long as possible, unsure how he's meant to say goodbye if it is going to be goodbye. it's his own fault and already he doesn't know he can do it, all attention focused on making them coffee when he's afraid the moment he stops moving they'll have to face it.

a feeling just shy of grief runs through him when archie stirs, freeing himself from his arms. silas can't help himself-- his arms tighten, ever so slightly, trying to keep the blond close as he untangles himself from the fragile intimacy of waking up together. sand slipping through his fingers. silas swallows hard. he forces himself to blink, to groan, to look groggy, almost-awake-but-not-quite, turning his face into the pillow to hide the disappointment that courses through him, hot & painful. " morning. " his voice is muffled through the down of the pillow. silas can't hide forever, and when he finally pushes himself up, he forces his gaze to fix on archie. he always liked him best like this-- soft and warm, blond hair ruffled, voice just a little hoarse and heavy with sleep. he forces a smile. " that's alright. " he's grateful for archie's apology-- it's so much easier to pretend it wasn't silas who wrapped him up in his arms. he raises a hand to card through his dark hair, trying to drive the last dregs of sleep from his eyes. " i-- uh . . . " eyes squeeze shut, brows knitting tightly together in mock confusion. silas remembers everything. he remembers archie's promise of coffee, his own embarrassing confessions, the painful note on which last night's conversation ended. " it's-- uh, it's blurry. " it's easier to lie than to revisit last night's painful conversations. he forces his lips to force into a sheepish, crooked grin. " my head hurts like a bitch. " to underline his words, silas grins his palms into his eyes. he's not lying about the headache, though it's dwarfed by the painful sting in his chest. " d'you have an aspirin or something ? "

[verdiesque]

Hmmm what shall I watch today

[potatobugz]

*leans against door seductively* does anyone have any tips on what to do when its hard + uncomfortable to breathe and ur heart is beating faster than normal to the point where its hard to focus on anything else

[tsukasalover]

being a black and hispanic prsk fan is STRESSFUL my god

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello birdie 🖤✨

I've got something for the Life Interrupted AU.

Thena isn't feeling well lately and is considering to go back into this hellhole where she's getting drugged to unconsciousness. She's packing her stuff when Gil shows up. He's trying to talk it out of her.

(And I definitely didn't had this Idea because I'm stuck in one of those hellholes, lol)

✨🖤Hugs an Love🖤✨

"Going somewhere?"

Thena sighed, setting down one of her shirts and staring down at her bed. "I was thinking about it."

Gil walked further into her room, having just arrived. "Druig texted me. Really surprised me to hear from him, but he said you've been acting weird--wants me to 'talk to some sense into you'."

Thena let out a humourless chuckle. "I'm surprised he decided to entrust you with that task."

"Gotta say, I am too," Gil agreed quietly until he was standing behind her. "I have to agree--you seem a little anxious lately."

She had been nervous, jumpy, and Gil knew it. They hadn't been able to go out on a date in weeks because she felt on the verge of a panic attack at the thought of having to navigate crowds or risk running into someone. "Maybe...maybe I should consider-"

"Don't," he whispered, placing his hand gently over hers. Her bag was already half full. "Don't say you're going back to that place."

Thena squeezed her eyes shut, tears already burning the insides of them. "Where should I go, Gil?"

"Anywhere else," he concluded. He pulled her hand away from packing up as if she were sailing off into the horizon. He moved slowly and gently until he could sit on the chair in the corner of her room and look up at her. "Please, Thena, just talk to me."

When he was seated lower, she had no excuse not to look at him. But she stared down at his hands, holding hers so, so gently. "Druig and Makkari have been looking at places again."

Gil raised his brows. "That...that's good...right?"

It was. It was what she wanted. She wanted their lives to continue on after the ugliness of the last year. She wanted her brother to feel free to settle down and marry the love of his life. And he could do that without worrying about his sister, she was determined.

"He keeps asking me to see them," she admitted quietly, as if Druig had his ear pressed against the door and would be wounded by overhearing her. "He keeps picking rooms that he says can be mine--if I so choose."

"So," Gil prompted, giving her hands a little squeeze, "what's so bad about that?"

Thena shook her head, looking up around the ceiling of her room to keep her tears from falling. "I'm not some child he has to drag around with him. He should be choosing a home to suit him and his wife, not worrying about his burdensome sister."

"Come on," Gil whispered, his eyes drifting downward from the sheer weight of Thena's discouragement. "You know he doesn't think of you like that."

Thena sighed, pulling her hands from Gil's and plopping herself on the corner of her bed. She pressed them to her head, trying to keep them from shaking. "I know he doesn't. That is exactly the problem."

"Okay, so you don't want him worrying about you," Gil shrugged, turning in the chair to face her head on again.

Thena stared down at her knees. She wasn't wearing her work dress and stockings with a tight ponytail. But she couldn't bring herself to wear soft sweatpants anymore, opting for athleisure leggings and a cardigan at even her most comfortable.

"What else?"

She toyed with her fingernails. "I don't want to live here alone."

Gil nodded again, leaning back in the chair.

She hunched over herself more, despite her sore back. "It's not about the cost, it's...I can't be here by myself, thinking all these...things."

"Okay, so we'll find somewhere else for you," Gil leapt at the opportunity to suggest an alternative. He leaned forward again, even scooching toward the edge of the seat. "I'll help you look."

She smiled, although she still wasn't feeling the intent behind the action. "Druig offered the same. Even Makkari--but that's not the point."

Gil seemed to understand what she was getting at. And of course he did, it was Gil. He was sweet, and understanding, and he always seemed to know what she was trying to say, even if she didn't have the words. "You want to find a place for yourself."

She sighed, looking at her hands again. "I don't seem capable of anything these days."

Gil took her hands in his again, rubbing his thumb over her skin. "You know that's not true."

She wasn't as sure as he was. She never was--never had his confidence, or positivity. It was something she both envied and admired about him. She loved it about him. "Maybe-"

"No!"

She blinked, taken aback by his outburst. He was always so soft spoken, especially with her. She had never heard him so much as raise his voice. The only things he did loudly were laughing and sneezing.

"Maybe nothing!" he pressed, standing from the chair. "That place never did you any good. I don't think it does anyone any good! And I will not let you go back to that misery!"

Thena's eyes fluttered, her back straightening. Her heart began to squeeze at the sheer volume of things, but this was Gil--she was safe with him.

"Thena," he finally quieted again, kneeling in front of her. "You never have to go back to that place, okay? I don't care if you have a nervous breakdown--I'll take care of you. I'll take better care of you than they ever would in there. Just--just promise me you won't go back there because you're worried about burdening people."

She blinked, those tears she was trying to hold back finally falling. It was completely dark outside, her small bedside lamp offering minimal lighting. But it caught Gil's features in just such a way that made him seem so beautiful. "I don't want to go back there."

"Good," he nodded, turning her hand so he could press his lips to it.

"But," she gasped, her lip wobbling. She clung to him. "But what if I'm not me, anymore?"

"You're exactly who you need to be," he said without a hint of doubt in his voice. "You're Thena."

So completely unwavering, her Gilgamesh.

"You're my Thena," he repeated, softer this time, kissing the back of her other hand before pulling her up to stand with him. His hands slipped around waist to rest at her back. "That's all you need to be."

She wasn't sure who 'Thena' was, at times. At least, not as she knew herself before all this. Gil kept saying that the past year was a part of her, for better or worse. But she just wanted to leave it behind--to revert to the version of her that had existed before it all.

"Look," he whispered, still holding her so gently. "Maybe that's easy for me to say. I didn't know you before. But the Thena I know is pretty damn amazing."

She let another laugh, still not humoured in the least.

"She is," he chuckled, though, and he did mean it. He leaned closer, touching his forehead to hers. "She's this badass translator, works in a big, fancy office. She's actually pretty funny, if she's in a good mood. Kinda likes messing with me."

"I do not."

"Just a little," he contested, scrunching up his nose faintly. "But I think that side of her is cute. And she's tough--way tougher than she thinks she is. And she's an incredible sister, even when her brother is being a pain in our ass."

"Our?" she interrupted.

"Our," he confirmed, touching the tips of their noses together to silence her. "And I know he's just worried about you. That's why he keeps saying you can stay with them if you want. But I guess he doesn't really know it's stressing you out."

Thena sighed, dragged back into the depths of her problems like plunging into ice cold water. "How do I tell him?"

Gil skipped over that question, still busy holding her, almost swaying as his weight shifted from foot to foot. "So, this Thena--I mean, to me, she's the most incredible woman in the world."

"Gil," she sighed, trying to pull him from his reverent description of her.

But he nudged her head until he could kiss her lips, also gently. As gently as everything else about him. "She's the woman I love, plain and simple."

Oh, did she ever love him. She had gone from being someone who probably didn't really believe in love for herself at all to being head over heels for her sweet, gentle giant.

She sighed as she kissed him again, leaning up on her toes to loop her arms around his neck. Kissing Gil always made her feel more human--more grounded and real. It took away the buzzing in her head and replaced it with with a heavy and pleasant sedative that could spread through her veins.

Gil stayed close, his forehead against hers, lips still faintly puckered. "Better?"

"Hm," she sighed. She didn't need to explain herself--not to him. She ran her fingers gently through the hair at the back of his head. If only she never had to go to work, or take public transport, or go to house viewings where the realtor would look at her oddly. If only she could stay in Gil's arms every second of every day.

"Good," he sufficed to say, tapping his fingers against the back of her sweater. He moved his hand to her hip. "So, about this living situation-"

"Right," she sighed the heaviest she had yet (which was saying something).

"Hey," he nudged her gently, pulling her eyes up to him. "A unit in my building is going on the market for next month. It's the one above mine--sweet old guy is moving out to be closer to his grand kids."

Oh. Living that close to Gil--being neighbours?

"I can always ask him if he'd be open to a lease trade-off," Gil suggested, although he was unable to hide his excitement at the prospect in his smile. "What do you think?"

Being that close to Gil? Being his upstairs neighbour?

His smile wobbled faintly, turning sheepish as he looked away. "It's a little more modest than this place. But it's a one bedroom, and it's not a bad location. And-"

Thena stood on her toes, pressing her lips to his, even with a cliche 'mmwah' sound. He looked dazed after the firmer kiss, which made her smile genuinely for the first time that night. She leaned against him heavier, but he steadied her without a second thought. "I think that sounds perfect."

"Really?" he asked, beaming like a dog about to receive a treat with a wagging tail.

She took his cheeks in her hands, "it sounds wonderful, Gil."

"O-Okay," he laughed, sounding near hysteria. But he pulled her against his chest in his arms, even lifting her off the ground slightly as he spun them. "This'll be amazing, sweetie, I promise!"

He needed no promises. The thought of having him a mere flight of stairs away was already comforting, in a sense. And she had been to his flat plenty of times. He was right, it was in a good location, and it wasn't any further from her office than she was now, all things considered.

Gil set her on her feet once more. "I'll talk to him tonight."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," she advised gently. It wasn't often she was able to offer a calming voice of reason these days; it felt familiar, even soothing. She toyed with some some stray hairs of his. "I may have to apply, like everyone else."

"Peh," Gil waved in dismissal again (making her laugh, again). "The old guy loves me. And that's before I tell him some sob story about wanting my girlfriend to move in so we can be closer."

Thena blushed softly, toying with the hem of her cardigan. Sometimes she had to remind herself that Gil wasn't just 'someone she was seeing', and actually the man she had known for more than half a year and had been dating for more than half that time, now.

"It'll be great," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "We can carpool to work, I'll be right downstairs if you ever wanna talk--or cuddle."

"Gil," she admonished, but it came out as a light and air whisper as he kissed her cheek again, his five o'clock shadow against her skin.

He stopped nuzzling her just to look at her more solemnly. "You should tell Druig."

"It was your idea."

"Exactly," Gil made a face, shrinking somewhat. "He'll kill me."

Thena rolled her eyes, her spirits lifting by the moment. "It's not as if you're offering to shack up with me yourself."

He didn't laugh at her joke. He didn't even seem to realise it was a joke, just shrugged one shoulder. "I mean they're both only one bedroom units. Plus, I imagine you want some space for yourself for a little. Feel like you have some more control?"

Well, he was exactly right about that, as always. Although she hadn't expected his rebuttal to be that they would need a larger space if they were to live together. She just blinked, "precisely."

"So it's decided," he grinned again, and gave her another kiss for good measure. "I'll go talk to Karun, you talk to Druig. He really is worried about you."

"I know," she mumbled, feeling properly chastised. She unlinked her hands from behind his head and squeezed his forearms. "I'm sure he was desperate to call you."

"And I'm suggesting you move into my building instead of in with him?--he's gonna have my head."

Thena laughed genuinely for the first time that night. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from him."

Gil stared at her in a way that made her toes curl. He bent his head down to sneak into the crook of her neck under her jaw. "I know you will."

She shivered as he left a kiss on her pulse point.

But he left it at that, pulling away and standing to his full height again. It left her feeling chilly, needing to pull her cardigan tighter around herself. "Okay."

Thena nodded, letting him take her by the hand. She did have to talk to Druig--about everything. About moving and also about how she would be okay without him hovering over her shoulder. She would be okay without that hell hole and its medication and she would be okay even if she felt like this different version of herself, possibly forever.

Gil grasped the doorknob with his other hand, the door not fully closed and letting in just a sliver of light from the rest of the house. He held her other hand, giving it a squeeze. "Ready?"

She nodded, holding his hand tighter, just in case she needed it. But she smiled, "ready."

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[atlantis-just-drowned]

I hate America so much right now. Your dumbass election shit is making me stay awake because they announced more results at 4am and I just can't bring myself to go to sleep without knowing if I'll wake up to an outright apocalypse tomorrow morning. What the fuck. What are you guys fucking up to. Why am I this concerned about YOU??? OF ALL COUNTRIES??????? I LIVE ON THE DAMNED OTHER SIDE OF THE FUCKING ATLANTIC OCEAN FOR SATAN'S SAKE

[seventh-district]

.

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

okay ventpost time im bored and my period is late

[rotisseries]

Ur so new to this its making me giggle. also you should share more I need to Know

gloomy I can't stress enough how bad I am at this. once we got past stats and I had to actually come up with real character things it was awful. dragged kicking and screaming through character creation. also I'm realizing as I type this how little I still have in mind for this character bc I never even decided what gender they are. we've been referring to them interchangeably as "my new cringfail losergirl oc" and "my new weird little guy"