#so i'll wait til later when i have more time to gather my thoughts

[quaranmine]

i need to learn how to write normal person reviews on ao3 because my default review state is to write an entire essay about what i just read, which is FANTASTIC for authors, but half the time i'm reading late at night or i don't have the time to type it up, so instead what happens is that the fanfic languishes for months in my phone's browser tabs as a "reminder" for me to write that review essay i have in mind, but i never get back around to it.

so i need to just make myself write normal 1-2 sentence reviews even though i secretly want to write essays, because writing ANYTHING is ultimately better for the author than me just thinking about it and not actually doing it

[aliteralsemicolon]

I'll wait for your love - 18+

See part 1 | See Part 2 | Part 3 of We can't be friends (wait for your love)

The only thing you’re sure of is that you don’t want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions + detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNINGS: Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, case details (barely) mentioned, alcohol mentioned like once. Smut (not the focus at all): making out, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, praise, use of pet names (angel, pretty girl, etc). Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 10.4K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Avoiding Spencer wasn’t overly difficult on the flight back to D.C. You weren’t entirely sure how to face him after he risked his life for you, so you just pretended to be asleep the whole time. You even took a separate jeep from the tarmac to avoid a car ride back with him, and almost made a clean getaway to your car in the parking lot when Hotch stopped you. 

“I’m sorry to hold you back, but I do need the Anchorage report on my desk before tomorrow morning. It can’t be put off any longer.”

He looked extremely apologetic and you understood. You’re grateful he gave you as much time as he has. That’s how you ended up stuck at work til the later hours of the evening. Besides the few workaholics, security guards and janitors roaming around the corridors, the only other person there with you is Spencer, oddly. Even Hotch has gone home. You’ve spent more time stalking the doctor work through the pile of case files on his desk than you have writing in the one on yours. Only when you're caught do you look away. 

“Everything okay?” The innocent curiosity in his big eyes further reddens the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Fine.” You mutter, dipping your head back down to the open page.

You’re never going to get this damn file done if you can’t get him out of your head, and him being barely three feet away from you doesn’t help. It’s very difficult for you to get your words from pen to paper. Anchorage wasn’t haunting you like it did at first. It was a traumatic event, yes, but alone isn’t the cause of this…block. Obviously the reality that you’re leaving is starting to dawn on you. Somehow your mind has linked this case with your departure and finishing this report makes it more official than your actual resignation. 

Plus, as much as you definitely hate Spencer, you do did care for him. The shock of him almost getting himself killed in front of you is another thing occupying your mind. It’s barely been twenty four hours since then, it’s still fresh. You can see him stand and grab his satchel in your peripheral vision, he’s preparing to leave. There are a lot of memories attached to that brown leather bag. 

Things he would carry in there for you when you forgot your own bag. 

You don’t make it obvious that you’re watching him gather his things in small glances. 

He bought extra hair clips for you to keep in there because you would often forget those too. 

It’s over now. No point in dwelling on it. You shake your head once he’s out of sight, trying to force him out of your thoughts. Now that he’s gone you’re hoping to actually be able to get some work done.

He taught you chess with the mini chess set he keeps in there. You discovered that you actually quite liked chess and would ask to play with him all the time. It was also his ‘secret’ weapon to help you calm down. 

You roll your eyes to push back the tears from the memories that refuse to stop playing. This can wait until you get home, it’s not important. 

It wasn’t the chess set that helped you feel calm. Spencer could win chess against you in just a few moves, but he would deliberately stretch out the game so you could have room to breathe. The longer the game, the more time you had to spend focused on the moves and slow down your thoughts. You could open up at your own pace. He would let you feel in control.

It doesn’t matter if he’s near you or not, Spencer has a way of invading your headspace wherever he is. Your train of thoughts is interrupted with a light thud on your right. You covertly roll the tears away again and turn to examine the source of the noise. A mug of coffee placed on your desk by

“Spencer?” You sputter breathlessly. 

“Sorry. I know you told me to stop. This is the last time I promise.” 

You don’t fully comprehend what he’s going on about, not expecting him to be here at all. 

“I thought you left.”

“I did– was. I was leaving, but I thought I’d make you some coffee before I go. Since you’ve been here a while.” He awkwardly explains. 

You steadily direct your attention back to the mug, reeling in what was happening. 

“Before you get mad, this really is just a cup of coffee from a colleague who thought it might help keep you energised if you’re planning to stay late. There’s no ulterior motive…”

He continues rambling but you’re not mentally present to hear any of it. 

He made you coffee. 

Even though you’ve been nothing short of an absolute bitch. Granted he was a bitch first, but the point is that he’s still thinking of your well being regardless. You can’t hide your tears from him this time. It’s the soft buzz of your name that draws you back to him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! I’ll take the coffee–”

His panicked sentiment is cut short when you jump out of your seat and shove past him. The breakdown you’ve been avoiding hits you like a ton of bricks. You run into the nearest empty office and he runs after you, making it past the door before you can lock him out. 

“Spencer p–please get out! I’m fine.” You’re pacing in the same spot, fanning away the stream falling down your cheeks, hyperventilating.

He doesn’t respond to you, instead cautiously taking your hand in his. You’re in too frenzied a state to care. He guides you to sit on the couch against the wall and you blindly go along with it, still trying to get yourself together. 

You want to stop the tears, but you can’t do that until you get your breathing under control. He slowly wraps his arms around you and you slump into him, head buried in his chest. You should try to fight it, you should push him away, but you can’t. Right now, surrounded by his scent, held in his arms, you don’t want to move. It’s not something you can properly explain, but the feeling is so comforting that nothing else matters. All you know is that you’re safe and that’s enough for you to allow yourself to finally break down. 

The first few sobs are loud, like there’s not enough air in the world to stabilise your lungs. They fizzle out into silent whimpers and you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater, balling it in your fist, just letting yourself feel. Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His right hand is rubbing circles on your back and his left hand is gently scratching just above the nape of your neck. 

You stay like that for a while, even after you’ve stopped crying. It’s been so long since you’ve been in this little bubble with him and you don’t want it to end. You pull away when you feel the strap of his satchel across his stomach as your hand drops to his lap. He visually follows every move you make. 

“You’re still wearing your bag.” You sniffle, leaning back. 

“I am.” He whispers, understanding that you no longer want to be touched. 

He stays in his original position; facing you, but now with one arm resting on top of the backrest and the other idly in his lap. You’ve moved so that now you're facing ahead with your back leaning against the cushions, pulling your knees into your chest. You had never found comfort in silence until the first time you experienced it with Spencer. Staying huddled, you divert your eyes towards him. There’s a distinct wet patch on his shirt. It’s less visible on his sweater-vest, but it’s there. 

“Your shirt’s wet now.” It’s almost impossible to make out what you’re saying with your mouth muffled against your arm, but of course, Spencer manages anyway. 

“It’ll dry.” He smiles, tone delicate. 

“But– germs.” You choke a little due to your previous crying. 

“It can be washed.” He’s using his comforting voice again. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The silence resumes. Neither of you dares to move, trying to freeze this moment. It’s obvious that you didn’t grasp how badly you craved each other’s presence. 

“D–do…” The initial sound grabs Spencer’s full attention again. You take a deep breath, hoping he wants to stay here as much as you do. “Do you still carry that little chess set with you?”

A small, airy chuckle comes out from him. 

“Would you like to play?”

“Please.” 

He creates some more space between you and begins to set up the board once he’s pulled it out of his satchel. You move to accommodate the set up, now facing him with your legs crossed on the couch and shoes abandoned on the floor. You wait for him to make the first move. After the opening moves the game doesn’t seem to get any harder and you know he’s throwing the game. You’re okay at chess, but he’s obviously a lot better. 

“You’re going easy on me.” You mumble.

“Because you’re not even trying.” He replies blithely.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, you’re making it too easy.” He gently teases.

“Not that. Helping me. You hate me, remember?” You say it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“You literally told me that you hate me.” You chuckle, numb to the hurt that sentence once brought you. 

“So did you.” He counters in defence, trailing your hand as it carelessly moves your queen to her demise. 

“I was angry.” 

“So was I.” He spared your queen, in turn leaving his king vulnerable. 

“It doesn’t matter now…” You don’t finish the rest of your sentence but Spencer still hears it.

You’re leaving soon anyway.

“It matters to me.” If he left something unsaid you choose to ignore it. 

“You’re letting me win.” You whisper, feeling the urge to cry some more, but there’s no tears left. 

He doesn’t make a move, bringing the game to a halt. He’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. You know what he’s going to say. 

“Spencer, don't.” You beseech.

“Why?” If you looked at him instead of the board you’d see the way his eyes are pleading at you. 

“There’s no point.” This time it’s your voice that cracks. 

You're looking everywhere else and it makes you too aware of your surroundings. Like how the couch is lined up directly under a window that anyone could peek into. 

“Leaving is not the only option.” He solicits. 

He regards your discomfort and closes the blinds from where he’s sitting, pulling you back into the privacy of your bubble. 

“There’s nothing that you can say to make things go back to how they were.” You bite the inside of your cheek, fiddling with a random pawn. 

It’s not a proper two way conversation. You’re talking to yourself just as much as Spencer’s talking to you. You’re both trying to convince you of what you’re saying. 

“Things don’t have to go back to how they were.” The squeaks in his soothing tone are starting to melt any resolve you have left. 

“There’s no reason for me to stay.” You oppose, trying to make any argument stick.

“I can think of more reasons for you to stay than for you to go.” 

There’s an underlying tension bubbling. Neither of you notice it over your desperate tug of war. 

“I don’t think there’s anything that you can say to get me to stay.” Another baseless sentence meant more for you than for him. 

“Give me one chance. One chance to convince you.” He can see your internal struggle at his request and he throws out one final plea to sway you. “For nothing more than closure.” 

Closure.

You’ve spent months in turmoil over the hows and the what ifs, trying to conjure answers to questions that wouldn’t stop pestering you. You couldn’t turn him down even if you wanted to. 

“Closure?” You repeat, eyes finally latching onto his.

“Closure.” He whispers back in reassurance. 

“Even if you can’t convince me?” You caution, not wanting to give him false hope.

He doesn’t say anything, thinking over the scenario in his head. He simply nods and you mimic the action, blinking away the blur in your vision and dragging around chess pieces. It takes Spencer a second to figure out that you were moving them back to their default places.

“Okay new game.” You announce. 

Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“I can ask you any question I want and you have to answer honestly. If by the end of the game I’m not convinced to stay, you back off for the remainder of my time here.” You pause for him to interject, but he doesn’t. “That means we stay away from each other, only talking when needed for work. Even then as cordially and professionally as possible. No more trying to make casual conversation or bringing me coffee or anything like that.”

“Till the end of the game?” He studies you. 

“Yup.” You smack your lips together. “Til one of us checkmates the other.”

“This means you’ll actually give me a fair shot?” 

“Between the two of us, I’m not the one known for cheating at games.” You jab, trying to ease the tension you could definitely feel now. 

“I meant a fair shot at convincing you. As in you’ll seriously take what I have to say into account.” He discards your attempt.

“No, I know. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.”

He can tell you’re trying to hold back a laugh from the small smile on your lips. It’s as adorable to him now as it was the first time he saw it. 

“Any rules before we start?” He asks, unable to hide his own smile.

“Only that we have to be honest.” You answer, immediately dropping your smile.

“Okay.” He agrees, smiling slightly wider.

“Okay.” You nod again.

When he finally makes the first move it hits you that you don’t actually know where to start. Theoretically, you know what you want to ask, but don’t know how to ask. You don’t know if you should jump straight into the questions or start with some ice breakers. Nothing is said for about four to five moves when Spencer pauses the game. 

“Are you going to ask any questions or have you decided that you just want to play one last game for your closure?”

“Huh?” You snap your vision away from the board. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”

“Do you want to return to the game after thinking of a few questions to ask?” He raises his brow and relaxes his jaw.

“No, no, we don’t need to do that. Let’s keep playing, the questions will come to me.” You brush off his suggestion and motion for him to continue with his turn. He doesn’t.

“What?” Your voice raises and you scrunch your nose from perplexity.

“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve put us on a time limit and this is how you’re using our time?” He airs, failing to conceal his amusement.

“Well excuse me if I don’t exactly have a list of questions ready to go for you.” You narrow your eyes in annoyance. 

“Why would you suggest this if you don’t have any questions?” He tries to hold back his laugh and ends up snorting as a result. 

“I have questions!” You jabber, unable to maintain your annoyance. “I don’t know what– where do I even start?”

“Start with whichever one comes to you first.” He shrugs, finally making his move. 

A lot of things come to mind when you think about it. The thing that screams the loudest twitches a nerve and you become instantly irate. 

“Okay.” You nod, tone harsh and flat. “Let’s start with whatever the fuck possessed you on the last case. What was your thought process when you put your life in danger like that?”

He almost gets whiplash from the change in mood, his face literally reads ‘are you serious?’. 

“He was going to shoot you.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I was wearing a vest, I would’ve been fine.” You contend. 

“I wasn’t willing to take that risk.” 

“Risk?! You literally put yourself in danger for no reason!” 

“I think it was a pretty good reason actually!” 

“Spencer that was–” You stop yourself with a grumble, inhaling deeply. 

“It was instinctual, okay?” He softly explains. “I saw him aim the gun at you and I just reacted.” 

“Well it was a stupid reaction!” You whine. 

“I’m not going to apologise for it.”

The glare you give is piercing, you bite the inside of your cheek to hold your tongue before you say something you can’t take back. Spencer throws his head back and sighs. 

“But I will promise not to do it again.” He adds, not fully intending to keep it. 

This was slowly turning into another argument, both of you shooting back too fast with your responses. You aren’t in the mood for another argument. So you redirect your attention to the game. 

“Check.” You mumble, buying yourself time to think of another question. “Why are you here so late anyway?”

“I wanted to finish some work before tomorrow morning.” He replies, moving his king to safety. 

“Yeah, what’s up with that? You could’ve done those tomorrow as well.” Your voice softens out of curiosity. 

“I wanted to get them finished in case there were more tomorrow.” It’s not his best excuse. You don’t know what he means by that. He doesn’t know what he means by that. He’s lying to you. 

You scoff, poking your tongue against your cheek. “Wow. You really can’t not cheat during a game, can you?” 

“Right, sorry.” Spencer clears his throat after the initial confusion clears. Complete honesty, it was your only rule. “I wanted to be here.”

“For…” You egg on, purposely rolling your ‘r’s to prompt him. 

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He admits, looking away from you. 

“Why?” You’re genuinely puzzled at the admission. “You’re the one who almost died. I mean, it was stupid and your fault, but still. If anything I should be checking up on you.”

“Check.” That’s the only response he gives you. He hopes that you don’t push further, but he knows that you will. 

His lack of response only forces you to think about the possible reasons by yourself, using context clues to figure it out. You are a profiler, after all. 

“Is this because of the panic attack?” You note how his jaw twitches when he swallows at the mention. “It is! You seriously chose to spend your night stuck at the office because of that?” 

“What else was I supposed to do? It’s not like you would talk to me, you literally refused to even look at me!” He gripes. 

“Spencer I think anyone would panic if they got tackled to the ground by a six foot man without warning. I’m fine.” You giggle.

“What happened to complete honesty?” It’s his turn to glare at you.

“I am being honest!” You protest.

“Lying by omission is not being honest.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay Mr. know-it-all, what am I lying about?” You challenge.

“Seriously? You don’t remember?” His approach is doubtful and he just stares at your dazed expression.

“Fucking spit it out already, Spence!” 

Any sarcasm he had geared up for a response dissipates at your use of his nickname. He’s heard it plenty in the last few months, but not from you. For a moment things feel like they never changed. It stings in a bittersweet kind of way. 

“You sc–screamed– uh–” He clears his throat and rapidly blinks, his nose twitches in the process. “During that panic attack, you repeatedly asked me to stay with you. Y–you, uh– you said you didn’t think you could li–”

“Stop. Stop. Stop talking.” Your voice quavers and you hold your hand up, ears burning up. “I don’t wanna know.”

You don’t know why it makes your heart race the way it does, you don’t even remember it. He waits a while before speaking up again, wanting to be careful about how he goes about the topic without you shutting down.

“May I ask you a question?” He voices professionally, trying to make the conversation less personal so you don’t feel cornered. 

You nod, moving your king out of check.

“Is there anybody you will talk to about Anchorage? Without pushing them away?” He keeps the game going as he speaks to provide you with a distraction. 

“Woah– Anchorage? Where is that coming from?” You titter.

“I want you to remember that we promised to be honest and I won’t push if you ask me to stop, but I know for a fact that you aren’t okay.” He waits for you to stop him but you don’t, even though you know roughly what he’s going to say. “Panic attacks aside, your avoidant behaviour around the topic, inability to focus, being easily startled, you’re showing signs of PTSD.” 

“Spence, c’mon. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I already passed the psych evals.” You attempt to make light of the situation with carefully chosen words so you’re not lying. It was a futile attempt, you know he’s not willing to budge when he doesn’t give you anything more than a blank stare. 

“Why does this matter so much to you?” You sigh in defeat. “Whatever happened…that’s a part of the job, you know that.”

“I also know, first hand, that it takes over your life. You can’t run from it, no matter how much you try to.” His tone is soft as he speaks, yet you feel like he’s accusing you. 

“I am not running! Why would you say I’m running?” You object with a high voice, shrugging your shoulders. “And it’s not taking over my life. Also, check.”

“Because that’s what you do when you don’t want to deal with something.” He states point blank.

“Woah– so– that was entirely unnecessary.” You stammer, unable to deny it. 

“I’m not criticising you. I just happen to know you and I know that you have a tendency to run from your problems. And it is taking over your life.” 

“You’re profiling!” You gasp.

“You know that it’s not something we can just turn off! No matter how much we pretend like we can.” He waves his hands defensively. 

You can’t argue with that, your lips twisting to the side. 

“You want me to be honest?” You murmur sheepishly. 

“Always. Please.” He responds gently, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I spend a good chunk of my day actively avoiding thinking about it, but somehow I always end up thinking about it anyway. At times it’s like I can almost feel…” You breathe in instinctively. “This is the first time in months I’ve been able to do anything without it lingering in the back of my mind. Can we please talk about it another time? I would rather talk about other things…”

Another time. 

“...right now.” 

You’ve implied that there will be another time to talk and he definitely caught it, even if he pretends that he hasn’t. You don’t even know if what you said is true, you got too comfortable with the familiarity of his friendship. It was something you said out of habit from back when you two actually were friends. Not even a full hour's worth of conversation with him and he’s already worming his way back in.

“Um–” You drag yourself further back on the couch, creating more physical distance. 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it at all.” Spencer senses your urgency to leave the situation and jumps into damage control. “It’s your turn.”

“No, um, I should– I should go. Thanks for doing thi– helping me.” You turn away from him, aiming for your shoes and ready to bolt.

“The game’s not over.” He points out.

“Yes it is.” You declare, still in the process of putting on your shoes.

“You said til checkmate.” He huffs, shifting out of his seated position. 

“I forfeit!” You throw your arms out in a shrugging manner, standing up after him.

“I can’t believe this. You’re going back on your word!” He doesn’t even raise his voice. He’s just hurt. 

“What’s the point, Spencer? Closure doesn’t mean anything, I’m still leaving! You can’t magically change my mind!” You yell, getting louder with each sentence. 

“I disagree. I think that you’re running again!” He blocks your way and yells back, maintaining his volume throughout. 

“Maybe you should think less!” You suggest, still yelling. Sarcasm is your defence mechanism when you have no actual defence. 

“You know what else I think?” He continues, emphasising the word ‘think’ every time he says it out of spite. “I think that you agreed to this thinking I won’t be able to convince you, but I am!”

“I don’t care what you–”

“I think you don’t want to finish the game that you started, because you’re afraid to ask the harder questions!”

“Stop.” You command, but it doesn’t deter him.

“I think that you’re scared to hear my answers because then it all becomes too real for you–” 

“Stop!” The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you choke them out. “You’re wrong.” 

“If I’m wrong then prove it. To both of us.” He sits back down and motions to the board. “Ask the real questions.” 

“I don’t need to prove anything, you’re wrong.” You uphold.

“So leave.” He challenges, knowing that you won’t be able to. 

If you truly believed that he’s wrong you wouldn’t feel the need to prove it, but you do and he knows that. You walk back over to the couch, head nodding from irritation, tongue poking your cheek. You kick your shoes off with a bit of force and return to your earlier position across from him. 

“Your move.” He reminds you as you settle in.

You don’t reply yet, but move your rook to set him up for the next move.  

“Check.” He smugly states.

“Who was she?” 

You don’t move, examining him close for any change in his behaviour. He obviously didn't anticipate that question first, snapping his sights back on you. 

“Sorry?” 

“The woman who greeted me at your door. That night at your apartment.” 

“Charlotte.” He replies, holding your gaze to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “We met at the library a week before.”

“Are you guys together?” You break away first, diverting your eyes to the chess board and trying to seem unfazed when moving your knight. 

“No, God, no.” He denies immediately. 

“I don’t know, she seemed pretty cosy for someone you met a week prior.” You don’t mean to sound as snide as you come across.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all.” He shakes his head. 

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure I saw her mark you up with a kiss on your cheek before disappearing.” You don’t look at him, examining a captured pawn as you wait for him to make his move. 

“Mark me up?” He cognizes it instantly. “Are you…jealous?”

“What? No!” You vehemently deny, your voice rising in several pitches. 

“You are!” His eyes widen. 

“I am not jealous.” 

His jaw slacks and he lets out an amused scoff. He doesn’t say anything, making you feel the need to fill the silence. 

“I only bring it up because…I know you have a thing with…germs.” Your words falter because of your own uncertainty and you want to dissolve into the fucking floor. 

Spencer tries to suppress a smile by poking his tongue out slightly. If the atmosphere was lighter he’d tease you about it, but he doesn’t want to make you take off again. Still, he feels the need to clarify the events of the night. 

“I don’t know why she kissed my cheek, it was completely random.” He takes his time saying it, still fighting a smile.

You swallow nervously and purse your lips to the side in response. One question answered and you only have new ones in its place. Did she stay the night? Did she sleep on the couch or on his bed? Did he see her again? 

“I drove her home right after you left.” He can almost hear your thoughts. 

“Was it a date?” You softly gulp again, unsure if you even have a right to know.

“Yes.” He hesitates. 

“Oh.” 

“I wanted to try out casual dating for once.” He chagrins. “I honestly don’t know how you did it, it’s not even fun.” 

“No it’s not.” You chuckle dryly. “So no second date, I presume?”

“Definitely not. I was just stressed the whole time.” He chuckles with you. 

“Take a shot of tequila before you go next time, it helps settle the nerves.” You joke, jumping to give him advice you hope he doesn’t take. You can’t help it, it’s what you’ve always done. Even if it goes against what you desire. 

“While moderate consumption of tequila can help relax the nervous system, I will not be turning to alcohol for stress relief.” 

“Then blast classical music while you get ready and give yourself a pep talk out loud, it’s actually really efficient–”

“There won’t be a next time. For a really long time, if ever.” He interjects, miffed at your insistence. 

“You willingly plan on committing to lifelong celibacy?” You exclaim with a puzzled look. “Why?!”

Spencer laughs at how raw your reaction is. He didn’t plan on giving out any more details but, with that prompt he decides that it’s now or never. 

“I don’t think any future dates will appreciate me picturing someone else in their place the whole time.” 

Oh. 

Both of you lock eyes at the same time. This is not a road you’re prepared to go back down, even if that’s literally the whole point of this conversation. You’re too stunned to reply and Spencer uses this as an opportunity to be elaborate. He doesn’t want any misunderstandings this time. 

“I couldn’t stop pictur–”

“Shut up.” You blurt out the sentence in almost one word. 

Your heart’s racing like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. You’re flustered, every part of your body is heated from how terrified you are.

“Y–you don’t have t–t…you don’t owe m–me an explanation.” You try to elaborate, contradicting yourself and stumbling on your words.

“I want to.” He reads that you’re apprehensive but pushes regardless. 

“Please don’t.” The tears that you thought had dried out were building again.

“Why ask if you won’t let me answer?”

You don’t have anything to say to that. Did you want answers? Yes. Still, you didn’t expect how hard they’d be to hear. He whispers your name and you scramble to think of your next move, and not in chess. You’re unable to even think about the game right now. You want to bolt, but you can’t even get yourself to move. So you deflect. 

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree.” Although his tone is subdued, the pace of his wording is faster. “I think it does matter and that’s why you’re afraid to hear it.”

He’s right but you can’t bring yourself to agree. This is only going to over-complicate an already complicated situation.

“It’s not enough.” Your voice cracks.

“How can it be if you won’t even give it a fair shot?” 

“Fair?” 

It comes out louder than you intended. His words trigger resentment within you and you snap. 

“Nothing about any of this is fair! I mean, fucking hell, Spencer, four years. That’s how long we’ve been friends. I mean I’ve shared shit that I thought I would be taking to the fucking grave with you! You were my best friend for four fucking years and all it took was like, five seconds?”

You sob, softer than when you were first crying, but the frustration is clear. He reaches out to touch your hand, but you push his hand away. 

“No!” You choke, sobbing harder when you try to compile your thoughts. “Five seconds to destroy all of it! It makes me wonder if everything we shared, our friendship, was it ever even that strong?”

Your anger simmers to sadness, as evident with how your yelling fades into whispering in the last sentence. 

“I can’t even tell you when exactly those five seconds were. I mean, I know…but…I don’t. Where did it go wrong, Spence?” 

“I don’t know.” Is all he can say after a beat of silence.

He knows exactly where it went wrong. 

“Yeah, me neither!” You sniffle, immediately wiping a single tear that manages to escape. “So again, it doesn’t matter.” 

“When you took it back.”

“What?” 

“That’s where everything changed for me. You showed up at my apartment drunk, after your date with Nathan. Your exact words were ‘I mean as an amazing friend’.” His voice strains like he’s forcing himself to speak. 

Your gaze falls, eyes darting everywhere as you try to jog your memory beyond the one sentence you remember. 

“I don’t understand.” You croak.

“You know, if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.” He chuckles bitterly, fighting back tears of his own. “That was– that was, uh, what you said before you took it back.”

“Spence, please…” You whine without sound, tilting your head back and chewing on your lip as a final attempt to stay composed. 

“No, you wanted to know where it went wrong.” He laughs falsely to downplay his tears. “You can say it doesn’t matter all you want, but the fact is, it does matter. It matters to me and I won’t let you run from it anymore.” 

You can’t look at him. Not with tears free falling down your face. You cup your hands together in your lap, pressing your fingers and nails together. 

“You told me that I couldn’t love you.” You struggle to sound your words. 

“I’m an idiot.” Another chuckle, but he sounds defeated. “When you said that, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to say that I do love you.” 

You tearfully laugh at this admission. 

“I only took it back because of what you said. I panicked. I thought I’d ruined things…which I guess, I still did.” Another laugh from you.

Spencer responds with the same regretful sound. 

The irony spurs another fit of giggles amongst you, this one slightly longer and infinitely more rueful than the last. You look anywhere but at each other until it grows quieter. 

“If you loved me, why the fuck would you tell me that I couldn’t love you?” You sound just as, if not more, defeated than him. 

“Love.” Spencer corrects without missing a beat. 

Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps. 

“I was so hung up on every single part of your sentence that I didn’t know what to say first.” He proceeds to answer you without leaving much room to process what he said. “I wanted to tell you that I do love you. I love you as you are. Not as somebody else.”

“But you didn’t say any of that.” You ignore all his admissions, not fully comprehending. 

“Like I said, I’m an idiot. I was in so much disbelief and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.” He sullenly huffs.

You don’t reply, sniffling with your head down. 

“For like a second, I had everything I wanted. Then you took it back and it was like my whole world had been ripped out from under me. In those five seconds, you’d given me a taste of what I’d spent four years convincing myself I couldn’t have and I just– I couldn’t go back after that.” He adds after a stillness. 

After a short while, your focus shifts from your hands to the board in front of you. The game’s been long forgotten. You’re immersed in the conversation, in spite of how strenuous it is. 

“I understand why you were distant, even mean, at first.” You snivel. “But after a while you just became downright cruel.” 

Spencer doesn’t shy away from your gaze when you do look at him. His skin is as drenched from crying as yours is. 

“I mean ‘I don’t want to see your face’? I know that I don’t really have a leg to stand on anymore, but, what the fuck Spencer?” 

He doesn’t cringe any less with every reminder. He’s truly regretted the words since they left his mouth. 

“I wanted to hurt you.” He reveals. “I thought you were being deliberately cruel and I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling.”

“Deliberately?” 

He nods, hanging his head.

“I thought that you knew how I felt and were just trying to be funny or something.” 

“Well I didn’t. I wasn’t.” You cut him off with a constricted voice.

“Even if you did, it’s not an excuse.” His eyes are glistening from the outpour of tears, but he still lifts his sights back to you. “I’m sorry.” 

You don’t know how to acknowledge his apology at all. You’re not even angry anymore, all you feel is sorrow and regret for the way everything happened. An entire friendship down the drain due to an unfortunate set of circumstances. 

“This is so fucked up.” You say with another mordant laugh. “All of this could have been avoided if we just talked about it.”

It stung less when you had somebody to blame for it. Your vision blurs and you make no effort to clear it, letting yourself cry openly. 

“We’re talking about it now?” It’s almost a squeak, the way it’s spoken.

“Yeah, but,” your shoulders slump, defeatedly, and you have to pause to control your sob, “what good does it do now? I’ve already lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me in the most pathetic way possible.”

“I’m right here.” He counters in such a small voice that it gives your goosebumps. 

“Spencer, too many things have been said…”

“When you first joined the team, I instantly knew I liked you.” 

He chews on his lip and darts his eyes around while he contemplates if he wants to continue. 

“I thought it was because of your kind nature. You were so sweet to everybody.” He decides he does, but his voice shakes throughout. “You have this gift…you make people feel so good about themselves. Whenever you spoke to me, I felt like the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to like you.”

You want to pretend like you don’t know where he’s going with this. You want to stop him, but your voice is stuck in your throat.

“It wasn’t until you bought me coffee for the first time that I realised just how much I liked you.” He chuckles again, as he reminisces in the memory. “You didn’t even get my order right until the fourth time, but it was still my favourite cup of the day.”

“You make me sound like a saint.” You finally choke out, attempting to play down the confession so it doesn’t crush your heart. “The only reason I even started bringing you coffee is because you learned how I like my coffee first.” 

“Not a saint, an angel. I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you that there are times where it genuinely feels like I’m in the presence of an angel.” 

It’s stated with such sincerity that it knocks the wind out of your pipes. Your eyes are widened and you’re biting your tongue with your mouth closed, staring at him with your chin tucked. He seems so confident, even with the glistening from previous tears in his eyes.

“I wanted to be in your life in any way you would have me. Even when it meant that I had to accept you with other people. And it was bearable, until…” His reminiscence only ends at the memory of the night that changed everything. “Like I said, I couldn’t go back.”

The last part fades into another whisper, only then do you find the courage to speak up. 

“Exactly.” You stick to your denial. “It can’t go back to how it was before.”

Your heart is so sure of what it wants, but your head is blinded by fear. You’re at a crossroads, except one path, the path that leads to everything you long for, is clouded with a fog of uncertainty. The other path is so painfully clear, you can practically see what’s on the other side. A fresh start, where the risk of fucking up further doesn’t exist. What you don’t see is Spencer.

“Good. I don’t want it to go back to how it was.” 

Spencer’s waiting for you to enter the fog. He’s going to be there holding your hand every step of the way. 

“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”

“That matters less than everything you’ve claimed doesn’t matter.” He leans in, intensifying his eye contact. 

“I’m pretty sure Hotch is really close to confirming my replacement.” You comment half-heartedly. 

You’re trying anything to dissuade both him and yourself from acknowledging the obvious, but he doesn’t plan on letting you avoid it. 

“I love you.” He whispers softly.

“Spencer…” You begin when he takes hold of your hands and whatever you had to say disappears from your tongue. 

“I love you. With every atom that makes up my body.” He repeats himself with further elaboration to instil it in your mind.

“I’m scared.” You whisper back with a sob, finally accepting it. 

“Why?” His voice can’t be any softer, but it still cracks a little.

“Because, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to end well.” You allow your vulnerability to peek through. “And that’s going to hurt more. I’d rather leave now than fall deeper.”

Although you didn’t say it back, it’s an indirect admission that you love him too. And it’s enough for him to fight harder.

“I know that my credibility isn’t the greatest,” he coaxes a small, sad scoff out of you, “but I truly believe that this, us, we’ll work. Because I know that I’m going to do everything I can to make this work.”

He feels bolder when you don’t pull away from his touch, folding your fingers into your palms and cupping over them. You observe the sight as it unfolds in lieu of a verbal response. 

“I’ve spent four years judging any man that comes into your life, wishing I was in their place, swearing I would treat you better than all of them.” 

Spencer feels the need to fill in the silence and he lets honesty guide his confession. He leans in further as if he’s indulging his deepest secret. 

“Four years wasted wondering what could be, cursing out those idiots, but taking no action to make it happen. And that makes me the biggest idiot out of all of them.”

When he speaks like this, with his big, imploring eyes and prayerful tone, it melts your heart to a point where it almost hurts. The more he talks, the more you begin to lean in, opening yourself up to him.

“It took losing you to realise how badly I fucked up and for that I will never forgive myself. I know that I have no right to ask you to waste any more time on me…”

There’s no more resistance against the pull you both physically feel to each other. 

“...but I’m begging you for a chance to do today what I should have done way before yesterday.” 

Your faces grow closer by the second, you can feel each other's breaths against skin.

“And I’m going to spend every tomorrow proving what I said today.” 

The likelihood of him changing your mind with one conversation wasn’t very high, both you and Spencer knew this when you got into it. You’re not entirely surprised when he somehow manages to overcome those odds too. You take the step to close the gap and lightly press your lips to his. 

It starts off soft, there’s no lust, no ulterior motive behind it. It’s a simple confirmation that you’re both present and this is real. Spencer doesn’t shy away from the kiss, not that you’d call this a kiss. It feels more intimate, more unguarded.

Spencer pulls you onto his lap as he shifts and leans back against the backrest to allow more room for you. You wrap your arms around him and the kiss deepens. In the midst of you straddling him, he slides the entire chess board off the couch and the pieces scatter on the floor. It’s only when you feel that the kiss can’t bring you any closer to him does the lust emerge. It fuels a desire to prove that you both whole-heartedly belong to each other. 

There’s no pinpointing when the switch happens. All you know is that the feeling of his lips against yours is no longer enough. You cup his jaw in your hands, swiping your tongue on his lower lip and it causes his grip on your waist to tighten. He parts his lips for you and it starts what you can only call a dance with your tongues. 

Your breathing grows hotter, your hips subconsciously grind against him. There’s a prominent bulge that brushes against your heat and you whine into his mouth. Spencer grunts your name in response and then abruptly pulls away.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down.” He breathlessly whispers against your lips. 

“What?” You whisper back with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He gazes into your eyes, afraid that you might regret this later.

“I’ve never been more sure, actually.” You’re confident at first but the look in his eyes makes you pull back further. “Unless…you’re not sure?”

“No, don’t misunderstand me. I want you.” His tone rises just above the previous whisper with his clarification. “It’s just that the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when our emotions are running high.”

“Four years, Spencer.” You lean in again, just brushing your lips against his. “The only reason you should be making me wait is if you’re not sure.”

He shuts that idea down by crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is so hungry, so desperate, it’s everything both of you have longed for and denied yourselves everytime you’ve been in each other's presence. It doesn’t take long for hands to start to roam. He traces the curve from your waist to your hips, stopping just at the hem of your shirt, tugging it like he’s asking for permission. 

You rush to undo your buttons and he meets you halfway, starting at the bottom. His fingers brush against yours as you two reach the final button and you pull the fabric off yourself. You do the same with his shirt, lips remaining locked, except for the small gasps of air you take in between. It requires a bit more manoeuvring with him, but you’re both soon shirtless. 

His mouth travels to your jaw and you shut your eyes from pleasure as he continues down to your neck. The stubble on his chin tickles your skin. You cup it, gently pushing him away with a giggle. 

“Forget to pack a razor in your bag, Dr. Reid?” Your voice is teasing, more playful than seductive.

He chuckles, airily, hiding his groan. He knows you’re being sarcastic, but the use of his title, with your voice in this context, catches him off guard. You moan as you feel his growing bulge against your heat when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you into his kiss. You swiftly undo the clasp of your bra, but before you can take it off, Spencer grabs you from just below the hips and lifts you up off him, gently laying you down on the seat of the couch. 

There’s no room for hesitation as his lips find your neck again and he nips at the skin. Every suckle earns him short gasps and the grip in his hair tightens as he travels lower. He stops just above your breast, pulling himself up to sit on his knees. You stare up at him with a heated gaze, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth with your lips parted to make up for the loss of his lips. 

He reaches for your bra strap and begins pulling slowly, searching your eyes for any signs of you withdrawing consent. All he sees is how beautifully they sparkle when you give him a light nod. It’s been too long since he’s seen the stars that you hold in your eyes, stars he accustomed himself to before he even got to properly know you. 

Gazing into his eyes, you’ve never felt more sure, more safe. You trust him implicitly and you’ve never wanted anything more. His constant need to make sure you're comfortable sends shivers down to your core. He slides the garment off you and Spencer’s beyond grateful that he’s already on his knees, knowing that if he was standing he’d fall to them because of the sight below him. 

His eyes don’t falter once, he’s trying to permanently etch this moment into his brain. He hovers his fingers above your body, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple and you softly whine. He looks awestruck, almost like he doesn’t believe what’s happening. You can’t help but wonder if he thinks your boobs look weird. 

“Beautiful.” The words fall out of his mouth in a whisper, as if on cue. He’s really just thinking out loud.

Before you can respond he lowers down and plants a small peck to your sensitive nub before taking it into his mouth. You gasp again, head lolling back in pleasure. One of your hands goes for his hair, while the other clings to his hand that’s already holding yours. He switches between sucking, pulling and squeezing; rolling it between his tongue and uses his teeth to squeeze ever so slightly.

“S–spencer.” A strangled moan falls from your lips. 

You tug his hair, whining and moaning as your hips roll against the strain in his pants. When your motions become continuous, he lets out his own strained groan and is forced to release your nipple with a small ‘pop’. 

“Angel, I really need you to stop doing that.” He murmurs in your ear with a gentle, gravelly tone.

As soon as the nickname reaches your ears your hips involuntarily buck up again, making his hips automatically push down against yours. His cock presses against your core and you both moan, his head falling against your shoulder.

“Spence, more.” You quietly whine in against his ear. “I need more.” 

“More?” He echoes back, turning his head so that your lips brush past each other when speaking. 

“Mhm.” You nod weakly as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and weakly connects his lips with yours.

Even when he’s got you vulnerable and at your most compromised, he’s still as gentle as ever. You don’t feel him undo your pants or sneak his hand in them, but you definitely feel him press the pads of his fingers against your clothed clit. Air escapes through your nose in a huff of surprise and you hum in his mouth, hips jolting at his touch. He can feel your slickness through your underwear. 

“Oh, my pretty girl.” He sighs, breaking the kiss and directing his whispers in your ear again. “All wet for me?”

“Please..” Even with your broken whimper you beg him for more. 

“Like this?” His deft fingers swipe your panties to the side, fingers landing directly on the clit this time. 

They feel cold at first. The contrast against your heated body makes you squirm and you groan in a soft, high pitch. 

“What are you feeling right now?” He pries a verbal response from you, circling your bud lightly. “Tell me.”

“Good.” You sigh, eyes shut as you try to savour the pleasure. 

“Good?” His voice is still soft against your ear.

“Mhm.” You nod, one arm draping against his shoulder and the other hand running along his scruffy jaw. “So good.” 

“And this?” He adds pressure to his movements. “Does this feel good?”

Your hips buck again and he feels rewarded when you moan. There’s no doubt that the sound of your voice is his favourite. He especially loves it when it’s directed at him. Whether that be in the form of a laugh or your sweet moans. It makes him somewhat dizzy. His lips attach to the skin just under your jaw in an attempt to coax more. 

It’s very effective. Fingers working your bundle of nerves, circling and flicking while changing the pressure, and mouth kissing and sucking near your pulse. It makes your back arch, hand gripping his shoulder so you don’t float away. He’s careful not to leave any purple traces of him on your neck, mindful of you being bombarded with questions from your colleagues.  

“I love how reactive you are, Angel. You sound divine– fuck.” He can’t help the grunt that escapes him. “You are divine.”

His touch alone is enough to make you feel electric, but the sweet nothings he’s whispering in your ear will be what send you over the edge. It’s a foreign feeling, being reminded that he values you for more than just your body. Just under an hour ago you had incredibly high walls built around you and none of them are left standing as you exposed under him.

Spencer’s not the first man to touch you, but he is the first that loves you. It’s something you’re not at all used to and it feels as overwhelming as it does good. It transcends the want, no, the need for the man on top of you beyond lust or love. You plan to show him just how strong that need is tonight. 

The carpeted floor is littered with your clothes, carelessly thrown around and tiny chess pieces scattered around the abandoned chess board. Spencer’s comfortably lying on the couch, facing the ceiling and you’re lying directly on top of him with your face buried in his neck. 

You run your fingers back and forth along his jaw, scratching his beard in slow streaks. He’s enveloped you in his arms, one around your lower back and the other playing with your hair. It doesn’t feel as peaceful as it seems, both of you are afraid of being the first to speak. You know you can’t stay like this forever and you decide to bite the bullet. 

“Spencer?” 

You only get silence from his end. You know he’s awake because his motions in your hair don’t stop. You push yourself up to face him, trying to study his face. The sudden movement brings him back from wherever he was zoned out to. 

“Hm?” His features jump.

Does he regret it?

“What’s wrong?” Your voice shakes from worry. “You have this look on your face.” 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.” 

“About…?” 

“How bad we are at communicating.” He chuckles. “It’s concerning when you think about how all we ever do is talk.” 

Hearing this makes you snort and you fall into him again. It sends both of you into a short fit of laughter. 

“Oh that’s promising for the success of this relationship.” You giggle, sarcasm evident. 

Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply. 

“So you’re staying?” 

“Well obviously, Dingbat.” You scoff playfully at the question and shift upright, straddling him. “But we really do need to get better at the communication thing for this to work.”

Spencer mounts his weight on his hands by either side of him and pushes himself up to you, stealing a deep kiss. 

“Yes, we absolutely do.” He whispers, breaking away for only a second. 

The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses. 

“Spencer, I’m– serious.” You voice in between, loosely draping your arms on his shoulders. 

“I am too.” He says in a hushed tone as he pulls away. 

“I want to take it– this,” you motion between the two of you with your finger, “us, slow. Not four years slow, but, like, by a couple of months at the very least.”

“Okay.” He agrees, his eyes scouring your face with complete adoration. It’s not ideal, but he understands where you’re coming from. 

“That means that we start again. Romantically. We have to talk about a lot of things first.” 

He shifts his body out from under you, resting his back properly against the couch and pulls you back into his lap in one swift motion. Both of his hands graze from your shoulder to your wrist.

“How about…you come over this weekend,” He suggests, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug, “we’ll do snacks, a movie, maybe an actual game of chess.” 

“That sounds like a date.” You wrap your arms around his neck to return the gesture and lean your forehead against his. 

“It’s not a date. Not yet, anyways.” He whispers. “I’m asking you to come over this weekend so we can talk about things properly, because frankly, I don’t think either of us is in the right headspace for it right now.” 

“Should I be offended at that?” You giggle, not entirely sure what he’s alluding to. 

“No!” He snorts with a high tone. “Dopamine aside, our Norepinephrine and Serotonin levels are too high right now for us to have a proper conversation about this.” 

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong, because you’re not, but I also think you’re just using science to try and confuse me, so that I agree to wherever this speech is heading.” 

“It’s times like this where your attentiveness puts me at a disadvantage, because this tactic has a hundred percent success rate on everybody else.” He grins and you chuckle, both leaning in for another kiss. 

“Can we hold off on starting over? Just for tonight.” He reluctantly voices, not wanting to push any boundaries. 

You draw back and raise your eyebrows with your eyes widened. 

“Spence, I have waited for years for this. You’re insane if you think I’m giving that up without relishing in it for at least a night. We’re not starting over until we’re both officially back on the clock.” 

“Okay.” He heaves from relief, leaning in for another kiss, but quickly withdraws with a new question. “Don’t you think the team’s going to be suspicious when we’re not fighting tomorrow?”

“Forget them, what am I gonna say to Hotch when I ask to withdraw my resignation?” You huff out a tiny groan. “He’s gonna hate me for all this paperwork.”

Paperwork reminds you why you’re here to begin with. You audibly gasp, jumping off Spencer and scrambling to put your clothes back on. 

“Fuck! Spencer, get dressed!” 

Spencer doesn’t share your panic, but adheres to your demand. You mutter a continuous line of obscenities as you throw on your clothes and when you don’t seem to be getting calmer, he intervenes. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” He coos as he steps towards you, still undressed on the upper-half. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’ve been here for hours!” You shriek, now fully dressed. 

You push past Spencer and grab his shirt, deciding that he was too slow on his own. He lets you dress him as he probes further. 

“That’s okay. No one’s going to notice this late.” 

“No– Spence–” You sigh, throwing your head back. “In less than four hours, Hotch is going to walk into his office expecting the Anchorage report on his desk. I’ve barely been able to get half of it done in weeks, how am I going to finish it in four hours?”

You shake your head and begin working on his buttons. He grabs your wrists, urging you to look at him. 

“You’ll have it done in less than one. I’ll help you!” His voice is light, airy, soft and accompanied with a chuckle.

“Spencer, you’ve already been here later than you need to be. It’s okay–”

“Let me help you.” He resorts to pleading, releasing your wrists and cupping your face.

You don’t have it in you to argue, his eyes staring back at you with sincerity. He wants to help. There’s no point in pushing him away, because as scared as you are about being too vulnerable with your trauma from that case, you trust him wholeheartedly. You know he won’t push for more than what you choose to share right now.

“Okay.” You nod and smile into the kiss he leans in for after the confirmation. 

“Okay. Now, you go and start some coffee.” he instructs softly with a wide grin, waving to the scattered chess ensemble. “ I’m going to clean up here and join you.”

“I love you!” You lean for another kiss and hushedly exclaim as you break away, receding towards the door. 

It’s Spencer’s turn to lose his breath. He’s affirmed his love for you countless times tonight and this is the first time you’ve verbally reciprocated it. He knows that it won’t be the last time either. That, to him, makes him the luckiest man in the world. He stops you from going any further by your arm and gently yanks you in his direction, crashing his lips with yours. 

“I love you too.” He whispers after the kiss, letting you go. 

Heat rises in your face again and you struggle to hide a huge dopey smile, one that Spencer has too. You’re floating on cloud nine, finally out of the blurry hurricane you’ve endured for months. There’s still a lot of things that you need to work out, but the thought of them doesn’t make you feel dread like it once did. 

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love." - Socrates

Spoilers: Yapperoni (so much dialog in this chapter), BAU! Reader, enemies (kinda) to lovers, hurt, comfort, love confessions (they might be a little too sappy, idk, I was sleep deprived), the praise made me giddy at some point, smut but I edge you by not writing out everything, happy ending.

AN - I have a little tiny fear that people (me) will nawt (I don’t) fuck with this monstrosity, but out of all my drafts, this felt like the most natural course of action. I thought it would be really fun to go from friends to enemies to lovers. Now, literally nobody talk to me about writing fics after this. Uni’s started, so I’ll be very inconsistent for a bit. Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.

A comment today keeps semicolon away (from showing up to your house and eating all your snacks).

Thank you for reading!

[alicelufenia]

Had a couple weeks off due to life, but back with more Tavierra

I go back to the grove and release Sazza, since this will be my last chance.

Due to a bug with the Sit Out mod the game wasn't letting more than Tav and Karlach fight in the Worg Pens. I sorted it out later, it's a common hiccup.

Of course I knock out the goblin children, I'm not a monster.

Halsin flashbangs my drow ass right in the face, then we break the news to him about Kagha.

Does he?

We deal with Halsin's (somewhat) understandable but embarrassing prejudice.

Oh boy and this is the playthrough where I may even be romancing him! Fun first impression :D

At least he admits it may be unfair of him, and that we may "enlighten" him. Well y'see you're gonna love literally the next thing I do then cause-

But first we talk to Ragzlin, and as this is my first time playing a cleric, this scene can play out different by doing the Speak With Dead spell yourself! Not that Tav would need the scroll as she has the forbidden knowledge of Thay (what can I say she got curious)

I go deal with Gut first. I just have the other 3 active party members sneak in through the back entrance to her room, and with a Silence spell up and surrounded by all of us, she doesn't stand a chance.

We split the party into 2 groups. Tav, Astarion, Karlach and Lae'zel head to Minthara's office (and stealthily clear the hallway outside the Worg Pens) while Shadowheart, Gale and Wyll return for Halsin to go kill Ragzlin and the goblins gathered with him.

Bear time. Hopefully not the last time either.

We meet up with Sazza next to Minthara. I had already spoken to her without Sazza, so I was hoping there'd be a change with this scene, but it's the same as if you met her for the first time with Sazza. In my oc lore, Tav uses Sazza as cover for her "scouting" delay to find the grove.

I get Minthara to spare Sazza. I'm hoping to get her achievement this playthrough, otherwise I'll have to wait til the next one.

Haha what, slaughter the grove that's CRAZY, who would do that their first playthrough? Anyway

What follows was an hour and a half of misadventures as I tried to be cute by agreeing to raid the grove, and then as she's walking out, smacking her with a Tasha's Hideous Laughter, hoping to initiate combat with her rolling on the ground with Emma's insane laughter.

The game claimed Tasha's had a 30% chance to work. In reality it felt like 0.01%, as she kept passing the damn save each reload! (it's almost like Paladins are really good with saving throws, no idea how I'd know that) but are you ready for some quality bullshit?

At one point the combat log said she failed the roll, but she didn't actually get affected! It still treated her as if she'd saved successfully! What the hell game!

So in the end I just start the fight without the Tasha's opener, and beat her unconscious with Karlach's massive unarmed attack swings.

The way this works in the lore is that she merely gets dazed, and Tav's confliction over what to do leads to her sparing her, stripping Minthara of her weapons and leading the others to go join Shadowheart and the rest as they're finishing off Ragzlin.

By the time they're done with Ragzlin, they return to see if Minthara is still there, Tav entertaining thoughts of interrogating her, or trying to contact the dream visitor to see if there's anything they can do. But they're too late: Minthara's already snuck away. Karlach is uneasy about this, but Tav, having to improvise now, reassures her the grove won't come to harm.

By the way, look at the changes to the journal! Back in patch 5, this didn't say "defeated", it said "killed", even if you knocked them out.

THIS screenshot is from December! Notice the wording change. I wonder when this happened, I didn't do as extensive testing at patch 6, so I didn't notice.

After reporting to Halsin, Tav makes good on her promise that the grove will be safe. By leading the party through a secret passage in the ceiling back out to the camp where they proceed to KILL EVERY GOBLIN. Can't raid the grove without an army, yeah?

We use every drow's favorite trick, Darkness, to keep ourselves safe from all the ranged attacks and pick them off as they come to us. It's a total slaughter for the goblins.

And now the fate of Crusher in 3 screenshots

Tragic.

By the way, if you ever want to turn Zevlor's gift down cause you're a good person or whatever, you can still trade with him in the same dialogue and just buy the reward off him. Handy tip so you don't miss this unique helmet!

Everyone back at the grove is in a celebratory mood, except Tav doesn't feel at all like celebrating.

I'm gonna say "It was a hell full of blood and ash" was her exact in-character description of the experience.

At the party she's in such a dour mood despite the energy of the participants that she finds herself even chatting up Astarion.

Oh but that's where you're wrong Astarion! We killed a whole LOT more goblins than there were tieflings! Like 5 times as many! *sigh* and now we get to the heart of the matter and why she feels bad.

Must resist. Urge to. Reload. Not this. Run.

So yeah, Tav's drinking, and seeking distraction. And so is Astarion. Hmm. Yeah sure, fuck it.

And she did.

All sarcasm aside, I am able to appreciate the subtleties of Astarion's romance scene. He can't hide his uncomfortable expression when we say we want to lose ourselves in him. "I thought so." HNGGGG but I have a good reason for this, eventually.

The next morning I have a talk with Halsin, deciding we'll head through the mountain pass (I'm not done with Act 1 yet, but I do want to take care of that area first now that the time-sensitive quests are done)

But first, I make a new main save and then proceed to speedrun to Moonrise Towers. I drink a potion of invisibility to sneak Tav past the Death Shepherds and into act 2, then follow Kar'niss all the way to Moonrise, where we find

She's alright folks! :D And yes, I didn't loot her gear, just her weapons like I said. Y'all should know by now I would NEVER put Astarion in her armor, she's keeping all that!

Back to our main save, we continue to the encounter with the Gith at the mountain pass road, and continue onwards to Rosymorn Monastery.

Damn I just think Tavierra looks good in this shot, lookit my baby stare down a dragon!

Next is, *sigh* Lady Esther. I convince her to take the Owlbear egg, and then have Astarion pickpocket her inventory while Tav distracts with her bard playing. The classic pair! She's not usually one for robbing people, but she'll make an exception for racism.

Speaking of racism:

We explore the monastery, and I manage to find enough of the weapons to solve the Dawnmaster puzzle with just a bit of brute forcing it.

We arrive in the Creche, and I beeline it for why we're here so early:

The two pieces of gear Tav needed.

The lore here is that Tav and Astarion find the githyanki stash of plundered treasures from across Faerûn. Tav has little qualms with "liberating" the stolen goods, and once again distracts them while Astarion cleans out their inventory. He does nearly get caught, but he deceives his way out of it and gets away scot-free.

Now in possession of a stolen artifact dedicated to Corellon, Tav's personal quest hits the next step, as she wishes to seek the favor of the father of elves on this journey, a long shot considering he's basically responsible for the ancient dark elves being cursed to become drow. At least she's got several elven companions to consult, and thus while it's not his main deity, she begins discussing religion with Halsin.

One respec later and her build is now online.

Now that the goblin camp is done, my main stressor for this run is past. What was initially a struggle for survival is turning into a pilgrimage for our Chosen of Eilistraee. And soon-to-be Seeker of Corellon. This is definitely going to be a more religious and gods-focused playthrough than my first one. Next time I'll show off the builds for the rest of the companions, as I've done unique things with at least a few of them, and as the party hit level 6 on the way to the Creche, they're now established enough to show off.

[indigosabyss]

Writeathon Week 1: Roundup

Since I didn't want to clog up the feed too much, I'll be keeping talk of the streams to these weekly roundups. But follow my Twitch if you're interested!!

This week's target: 21,000 words Actual wordcount: 37,360 words Amount Left 'til One Million: 139,151 words

I have written. So many commissions. Updated so many WIPs. It's going great!! The full list of fics I worked on in these seven days is under the cut, but you can just read through my ao3 if you want an idea.

Start time for next week (17-23 Jun) will be 6 PM GMT+5

comm info | patreon | ko-fi

COMMISSIONS

(Patrons get monthly custom fics and are included in the comms. Total word count is included in the brackets here, but I've written the most recent chapters this week only.)

Where Do We Stand, On The Matter of Us? [N/A, 10k]

(DCST TsukaGen + QPR!SenGen)

At first, Tsukasa had thought that reviving Gen was a good idea. Then, he realized it was a fatal mistake. Even later, he realized that it was the greatest thing he could have done for the softly budding civilization that had sprung up in Japan. It was strange, having to stand by and know that all this was possible, simply because Gen hadn't stood by Tsukasa, all those months ago. To know that when he had been overlooked in favor of Senku, that choice had been right. Gen had already made his choice. So why did it feel like his hidden affections were being returned, as they crossed the ocean to America, and the enemies that lay there?

Me And My Friends Going to Pride As Allies [G, 2.6k]

(Ms. Marvel taken from my Pride Sponsorship List)

…They're all queer and think each of them is the only one.

It's Not An Odyssey If You Don't Know Where You're Going [T, 4k+]

(OMFD PJO!AU)

From a very young age, Stede Bonnet had displayed rather uncanny abilities. It started with the relentless harassment he had faced from his peers, whose rough shoves resulted in many skinned knees and purpling bruises. All of which disappeared in less than minutes. Of course, as a child, it never occurred to him that this was unusual. The glowing was more of a concern. On the oceans, he was free of judgement for his proclivities. But there was still plenty to be feared about the ichor that ran through his veins. So he kept quiet. Until he met another like him. Blackbeard, Edward Teach, and - few people knew this - son of Charybdis. Yes, like the sea monster.

Funny I Should Meet You Here [N/A, 5k]

(RyuuSen Childhood Friends to Strangers to Lovers)

Ryuusui met Senku when they were kids in elementary school. But after Ryuusui changed schools, they grew apart, their paths never to cross again. Until the Petrification Wave came, and thirty seven hundred years passed. Leading to Senku arriving at the land where the Nanami Academy used to stand. Two friends reunite. And buried feelings bloom into something new.

Playing A Mean Game [T, 8.5k]

(Post-The Marvels Kamala Khan transported to X-Men First Class) This one's on shaky ground bc a patron asked for this, but it was one of my own ideas. That's why I put it last.

Three months ago, Monica Rambeau sealed up the Incursion, with her on the other side. Tired of waiting, Kamala gathered up the Quantum Bands and brute forced her way through the Noor to get to her side. Except she gets deposited in a world that's almost exactly like the sixties of her own world. With the addition of a group of people she definitely would have remembered. Erik was just trying to stop Schmidt from getting his hands on another kid like him. He didn't take into account that he would have to keep an eye on her after that.

Personal Projects

(Recent Chapters restricted to One-Week Early Access)

You're Ten Billion Percent Not Alone [G, 7.5k]

(QPR!SenGen in High School AU based off Bloom Into You)

In a bid to secure the firstyear vote, student body president candidate Gen asks for Senku's help in the campaign, in exchange for a space to do experiments. What started as a flimsy alliance turned into a tangled mess, as Senku realized one very important similarity they both shared. ... They were same, until Gen ruined it.

An Overlord of Earth [N/A, 5k]

(Gwenpool x Hazbin Hotel Crossover)

When you die, the afterlife grants you unlimited power, as long as you have the ambition and the bloodthirst. Just stick it out in the boring, bland real world for your entire life, until you get to go wild in your second. Gwen had the power to manipulate reality to her whims, and she wasn't even dead yet! But her brother was. And she wasn't going to rest until she brought him back to life. So she was going to look through Hell, find Teddy, and everything would be great! Sure, the second she got there, she did a little murder. And then continued doing more murder. But she was allowed to have a little fun while looking for her brother. But why was this deer demon so interested in having her soul?

"I Will Always..." [G, 4.5k]

(dr stone canon compliant Byakuya fic)

Byakuya hadn't exactly planned on becoming a father. He felt more like he owed it to the memory of his friend to take Senku in. But Senku was an incredible kid. Clever and enthusiastic and resourceful and yet still needing a guiding hand to stop him from doing things that would probably end with him getting killed. And between stargazing and bleach, microscopes and marker ink, model rocket launches and actual astronaut training, Byakuya really started to believe that he could do this. Then the green light. Of course he was out of harm's way, safe in the ISS. But Senku- Well, there was always hope. He would always hope.

Starting With Saplings [N/A, 5k]

(Naruto 'Team Ro in Warring States Era' time travel au)

If you must fix something, you must start at the root of the problem. Except they already tried that and the Root was not very receptive to the idea. So... start before the problem even existed?? Except Team Ro didn't plan to come back to the past. They didn't have any concrete idea of what to fix. Most of them don't even think they have the jurisdiction to make such changes. But now, in the Warring States Period, they must do something. Because if everything they do has an effect anyway, might as well go down swinging.

The Last Surviving Member of the Archives (All Four of Them) [N/A, 29k]

(Magnus Archives; S5-spoilers)

Four separate timelines. In each one, only one person from the Archives team walks out alive. Scarred, changed, traumatized, but alive. Jon's alone in the Eyepocalypse. Martin lost his Jon into the Lonely. Tim has made it his mission to destroy any devotees of the Fears. And Sasha... Sasha has completed the Corruption portal started by Jane Prentiss. When she steps through it, she finds herself in a world where the Fears have won. And her three, long-dead coworkers are there too. Each without any explanation as to how this happened.

Vengeance and Sunshine [G, 71k]

(PJO x DCST crossover)

Ethan Nakamura survived everything the Greek pantheon had thrown at him, and now he could finally leave. Just him, now-mortal Apollo, the sun chariot, and the open skies. And then that day came. That day, when green light covered the world and turned the entire human population into stone. The gods were left abandoned, and thus faded. But the demigods remained. And they rose again. Against all the odds, Ethan Nakamura broke out of the stone by himself, and finds himself 3,700 years later in the Stone World, suffering from a re-opened stab wound and no idea what was happening. A lot had changed over the millennia. There were new (yet familiar?) gods, a continuous race of progress, and a leek-haired cannonball that broke every obstacle down with sheer determination. This was fine. He could work with this. The modern world will rise again. And so will the pantheons. ...Right?

[stellamancer]

OOOOH BACK AGAIN 😌 niku x gojo 😌 poorly timed confession + dystopian au !! 👀✨️

OKAY TIME FOR YOUR SECOND SERVING.

i am taking myself out of this for the sake of my own sanity (read so i can tell the difference between me (the writer) and me (the character)

also it looks like you are trying to serve me a very specific scenario. are you looking for angst willow??? i am so bad at angst!!!

reader x gojo (but it's actually just niku x gojo with reader placeholder oops) -> poorly timed confession + dystopian au

okay. first the au. i can't say i'm super familiar with it? i mean i read thg and then as a child i read the giver and gathering blue and there's third book isn't there? i read those. since it's you asking tlou also came to mind but man fuck zombies. or i suppose they're infected aren't they? with the.... cordyceps? (this is an aside, but beef thought i was really into tlou but i've only ever watched a playthrough of tlou2)

anyway what you gave me is a really good set up for confessing in someone's arms as they are about to perish or lose their humanity or what have you in a dystopian world but i don't wanna play that game.

ugh i need to choose an au. ugh let's just go with some zombies or something like that.

for the confession, let's say our friend or someone is on the verge of turning into a monster and we've got our gun loaded and aimed at them. this friend isn't gojo, by the way, but some other friend, who we love a lot. maybe more than a friend and we're struggling with pulling the trigger because we love them and we don't want to kill them but it is at this point a mercy kill. to kill them before they lose themselves. rather than calling them zombies, i think we can stay a little in theme and call them curses. anyway we struggle, but ultimately we exchange i love yous.

and then we kill them.

and with them we die along with them inside.

it's some time later when gojo finds us like that. the living dead if you will, fairly human all things considered. recruits us and it's like... hard because we're still numb to everything and even gojo's weirdness doesn't affect us. at first anyway.

man i had a thinkle that was interesting but i forgot. oh wait no i remember. after the loss of our friend we are just so distraught and don't want to have to go through that again, so we refuse to get close to anyone. this includes gojo who is very, very weird, he's very friendly but also keeps people at arm's length. in our pain we can see past the smile he puts on.

i think it would be actually... nice for gojo to get attached to us first. maybe it's because he knows what we are going through so he feels for us. but we are stubborn and don't want to get attached. we don't say it explicitly, but he assures us that he will never become a curse because he is so strong. it's hard to believe him but as time goes on we want to believe him because we get attached. we hear about how he went through the exact same thing as we did and that changes things and we become more open.

i could end it in a sad way lmao. but i hate sad endings so uh. maybe we learn to live in a world with curses and continue exorcising them til we figure out a way to stop people from turning into them? there's probably a cure... LMAO.

[send me a ship and two fic tropes and i'll tell you how i'll mash 'em up]

[brotherwrites]

The Aspect of a Pleasant Day

"I used to think maybe you loved me now, baby, I'm sure! And I just can't wait 'til the day when you knock on my door! Now every time I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down! 'Cause I just can't wait 'til you write me you're coming around!"

You've just gotta love these bright, sunny days we have nowadays! Clear skies, cool wind, the warmth on your face as the sun beams down from on high! Not like the horrid weather we had before, let me tell you. You couldn't walk down the street without getting yourself swept up in some wild tornado, or accidentally stepping into a chasm that you swore wasn't there before. For example; last month, a good friend of mine, a very good friend, informed me over the phone that there wouldn't be any crazy weather planned for that month. He works with weather you see, very good at what he does, quite famous worldwide, so I, as a trustful pal, took his word for gold and went out for some tea.

Now, when you decide to go for an outing, you ought ta' make it a special occasion for yourself, especially if you've made so little time for personal leisure- and you can't ask a person with a bit of self-respect to spend that free time at a local Starbucks for a spot of tea. So I thought I'd take a trip to the United Kingdom to visit one of my favorite places in this world, and I know what you're thinking, aren't plane tickets in America expensive? You'd be absolutely right, not to mention how slow and unreliable they are. The last time I've taken one for the novelty of it, I fell asleep and woke up chest-deep in water! Sooo unreliable in my experience. But not to worry, for I had another friend who helped me in my little venture! You see! When I first met my friend, they invited me into their home, telling me their life story. They were a spiritualist and an aspiring gipsy, who wished to gleam into the secrets of the universe. So I, the generous guest I am, had helped them gather an impressive library of ancient lore, scrolls filled with "lost" languages, and tomes of forbidden secrets. Now they are one of the great names people whisper about! Quirky as they may be nowadays. But they have gained an impressive title!

The Seer of Void, Speaker of Stars.

Ah! I seem to have been caught rambling! Hahaha! My apologies, I'll try to keep it to a minimum.

As I was saying, The Seer owes me a number of favors after I helped them. I used a few, but I still have plenty more, so why not splurge a bit for a nice day! So! After a pleasant chat, my dear speaker sets me up with a small ritual. Ten minutes later, a bit of warping of time and space, and Bob's your uncle, I'm in the Helmsley Walled Garden!

Have you ever been there? It's quite a beautiful place! Fresh spring air, lovely scenery, a welcoming staff, and the part that made it one of my favorites, their Vinehouse Café just a short walk away! Honestly, if one did not have the other, I wouldn't paid this place any mind. So! After giving some of the gobsmacked people around my arrival a cheeky little wave, I made my way down to the little Café where I ordered a cuppa Yorkshire Tea and a bit of nosh to go with it. All in all, I was having a lovely evening when a snowball smashed my cuppa while I was taking a sip, scattering it onto the pavement below, and I was suddenly in the midst of a snowstorm.

As you may imagine, I was not chuffed. In fact, I was bloody mad that my weather-controlling friend told me such rubbish that there was "nothing planned that month."

I, of course, wanted to pay them a surprise visit since they obviously didn't know I was around, considering they were faffing around with the local hero, Earl Gray, when I arrived in their laboratory.

Now my friend, who looked Dodgy, noticed that I was cheesed off, so they tried to give me an earful, but I could tell that they were, if you'd excuse my language, speaking out of their arse, and I was having none of it.

Quieting my gobby bloke, I released Earl Gray, sent them on their way, and had a nice chinwag with the weather for a few days about word choice and how the wrong words can get people you liked hurt.

Truly, we had such terrible weather.

But it's all better now! It has been perfect weather worldwide for weeks, and I don't see that going away anytime soon! Summer just started, it was pleasantly warm instead of the usual blistering heat, the birds were singing a wondrous song and children were laughing in the distance. This could honestly not be a more perfect day! It was so perfect that you can't help but sing!

"Now I'm walking on sunshine, whoa-oh! I'm walking on sunshine, whoa-oh! I'm walking on sunshine, whoa-oh! And don't it feel good! Hey, all right now! And don't it feel good! Hey, yeah!"

Ah, but what I could use is a bit of company, it would be a shame to spend a day like this without a chum around. But I wonder who I should be with. Should it be The Seer? No, no, I've already troubled them enough, besides, they're swamped with work from the beyond. How about The Knight, they are usually free for me. Oh, wait, they are getting married soon with The Sylph this month, making The Sylph equally occupied. Hm! Now this is a conundrum! Perhaps... Oh! Who's that I see? It couldn't be!

"Why, isn't it the Kingdom's favored hero, Earl Gray! What brings you to the States?" I jubilantly asked as I crossed the street to meet them. Earl Gray seems to be dressed down for the occasion, dressed as they were. A finely pressed outfit free of wrinkles, a fine brooch above their left breast, and even a splash of white over their usual shades of gray. The fact that they are not in their working uniform tells me everything I need to know. They are on vacation and decided to go across the pond, as it were, to have a little visit, like I did not so long ago!

"I came to speak to you. I'm doing a casual bit of investigation with my sightseeing, and I noted that you could be helpful." Me? Well then, I was looking for a friend to spend time with, and got an acquaintance, I may as well make the most of it! We found a little café that was owned by a friend of mine, The Maid, so we got cheaper prices, since The Maid and I are such good friends! And, for a few hours, me and my acquaintance spoke on various topics, all skirting around the main topic they truly wanted to talk about, till they finally caved and asked directly "What exactly happened to The Mage of Breath, Boffin of Weather? You were the last person seen with them, were you not?"

"Hm? Oh them! Ah, yes, I've completely forgotten! It seems our little chat had... inspired them to retire, surrendering that title in the process. All their assets were dispersed along with them, so you have no need to worry about where they are." I say as a chuckle slips out. "Ahem. However, I suppose what does concern you is the knowledge that the title of Mage is now open again. Who knows what damage will occur if a completely unknown person gets their hands on it. But don't you worry! I'll do a bit of investigation of my own to make sure this person doesn't make the same mistakes as their predecessor."

"After all," I utter, looking Earl Gray in the eyes, witnessing trepidation under the steel. "I am The Lord of Aspects, Maker of Contracts. It's my job, I can't have people with that kind of power changing the world too much."

You’re a supervillain, but something about your choice of victims puts you low on heroes’ priority lists.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

ON THE EDGE ~ Pt. 4

Characters: Gavin Reed x fem!Reader; Connor; Hank Anderson;

Warnings: cursing

Words: 2668

Gavin was far away from being 'happy'. But he listened interested in what yn had to say in the briefing. He was impressed how much she had found out within … one day. She had a bunch of files, several papers and she also had prepared a report for each one of them with the important details. If Gavin had a good day, he could do just the half of it. If any.

"So, our guy is Joseph 'The Joker'.", she stopped as she saw Gavin trying to suppress the laughter behind his hand, "Come on, Gavin. Laugh. Or otherwise you will explode.", she said amused.

"That is the stupidest name on earth.", Gavin said chuckling.

Yn watched her partner who was looking so much better when he was grinning, "Yes, that's why I suggest we should call the whole case 'JoJo'.", just as she had said it, Gavin laughed out loud, crying with tears.

Gavin’s amusement was contagious and yn joined him while she pinched the bridge of his nose.

Even Hank started to rumble with laughter, "Yeah, we should take this name. It won't get any better, I guess. Where can we find this guy?"

"Maybe in a circus with clowns?", Gavin suggested still grinning.

Yn chuckled but shook her head to get back on track, "Actually, he deals in Liberty park.

*

Twenty minutes later, all four were sitting in the 'Liberty Park Café' for 'observation'. For normal people, it wasn't that easy to detect a dealer. But for three cops and an android, it shouldn't be that hard. At least, they could disguise their work with some coffee and snacks. Mostly, coffee.

The group took a table near a window to have the park in sight. It was snowing again and therefore, too cold to be outside for too long. Because they had no picture of Joseph, they had to rely on their observation skills.

"Could this be our guy?", Connor asked and pointed at a guy with long hair and a beard. He stood underneath a tree with his hands buried in the pockets of his long coat.

Yn took a grape of the fruit salad and threw it into her mouth before she looked at the guy. It was the third guy Connor had found suspicious, "Well…", yn started, considering the possibility but then, a woman appeared and walked straight to the guy. She hugged and kissed him before they wandered off with linked arms.

Gavin looked annoyed at Connor with crossed arms, "Wow, tin can, you're the best Investigator ever."

“It’s not that I could detect drugs from this distance.”, Connor defended himself.

“Then, I don’t see why you’re even here.”

“Because yn asked me-”

“You asked him?”, Gavin asked exasperatedly and looked at her with a dark expression.

She raised her hands in surrender, “He’s Hank’s partner so, of course, he’s on board. I’m sure he will play a good role in this case.”, she said and once again, she noticed Gavin’s mood. He was on the edge of the next outburst.

Luckily, Hank was this time the one who spotted the next suitable candidate for their suspect and stopped Gavin to say whatever he wanted next, “I guess, this could be our guy.”

The other three of the group looked at a guy in his twenties. He wore some pair of jeans with holes, a t-shirt of an old grunge rock band and a black, well-worn, leather jacket. His long, blonde, greasy looking hair was tied to a ponytail. He leant casually against a street lamp as if he was waiting for someone and at the same time as if he would have all the time in the world.

“It could be JoJo.”, yn said with a slow nod. His appearance coincided with the few details she had found in the statements. The hair, height and surprisingly, the t-shirt were the same.

“It could be just another guy waiting for a hooker.”, Gavin grunted. In his eyes, nothing of this was worth his time.

“Hey, JoJo!”, a guy on a bicycle called out and waved as he passed the grunge guy.

All three pairs of eyes were landing on Gavin who rolled with his eyes, “Oh, please! That can’t be true.”, he said and wiped over his face with his hand.

"So, that's our guy, then.", Connor said with a pleased smile. He was a big fan of having a clear suspect.

The group observed JoJo for a while. Hank ordered new coffee and as their cups were refilled, several people had passed JoJo. Some were just greeting him. Some had talked with him, maybe buying drugs, “Couldn’t we just arrest him?”, Connor asked.

“We could but if yn’s theory is right, he could lead us to his boss.”, Hank explained.

"He has a type.", yn said suddenly.

"A type? A type of what?", Connor asked confused. Somehow, he had the feeling that whenever he was learning one new thing there were two other things coming his way, like these human comments.

Yn looked at Connor with a grin, "A type of woman. He ignores the blondes. But he looks after the brunette."

"No!", Gavin called out and looked serious at yn. His brows were knitted together and yn saw his eyes sparkling darkly. There he was again: her all too protective partner… or at least, he tried to be that.

Her smirk grew bigger, "It's a good idea, I think."

Gavin gritted his teeth, "And I say, no!"

"What is going on?", Connor asked Hank low while he watched the exchange between yn and Gavin.

"I'm not really sure…", Hank answered.

Before Hank could speak out his assumption, Gavin was faster to explain, "She wants to meet him.", he said coldly.

"What?", Connor asked surprised and looked at yn.

"It's the best chance we have. I'll go over to him, flirt a bit and bug him. Then, we will get him and his boss. We will have a chance to get the whole circus. It won't take me more than ten minutes.", yn said smirking, leant back in her seat with crossed arms and watched Gavin almost exploding in front of her eyes.

"And my answer is no!", he called out, which caused the other guests to look at the small group.

Yn looked challenging at Gavin, "Good that I haven't asked you for permission."

"Then, I will go with you.", Gavin demanded, thinking of himself as smart.

Yn’s eyes grew big. She looked at her partner with a confused expression, "Are you nuts? How shall I flirt with him when you're around?", she said and gestured to him and his appearance.

Gavin saw something in her eyes, in the way she was looking at him. Not sure if he was right, if she was giving him a compliment in some way or not. Was it possible that she could see him in a certain way?

"I can go with her.", Connor offered and broke Gavin’s train of thought and the connection he had with yn.

"You?", Gavin asked spitefully and sizesing up the android.

"Yes... I could act as her servant android. Even now, there are still androids out there who are serving humans. It would be no big deal.", Connor explained.

Yn was already hooked, "Best idea!I told you he will play a role in this case. So, we have a plan. Tomorrow, we will bug this fucker."

*

“Gavin, no!”, yn called out. Again and again, Gavin wished he had listened to her instead of being hard headed to stop the crazy guy on his own. Once again, Gavin suffered through the events of the last case in his dream. And once again, he heard the shots from the guy. Then, he shot the guy on his own just to find yn lying on the ground bleeding. Gavin ran over to her, turned her around and tried to wake her up but she was already unconscious. He knelt next to her, pressing his hand on her bleeding wounds to stop the blood until the ambulance was coming. He even drove to the hospital to stay by her side.

Two long hours, he was waiting til the doctor came to him, telling Gavin that she was alright and would be okay. Gavin even waited til he could visit her in the room a few hours later. Slowly, and with shaking knees, Gavin went to her room, opened the door and slipped carefully in.

Gavin’s blood was running cold because of the scene in front of him. Next to yn’s bed sat Connor, holding her hand in his with intertwined fingers. Yn was already awake, looking at the android with a love filled glance. Connor looked from yn at Gavin and back at yn, “Look who’s there. Gavin came to see you.”, Connor said softly.

“Gavin? Who’s Gavin?”, she said without even looking up…

It was three o’clock in the morning and Gavin started up from the dream, from the nightmare, with a racing heart. Once again, he was soaked with sweat. He raked his fingers through his wet hair and without a second thought, he stood up to go into his bathroom. He splashed cold water into his face several times. As he looked up into the mirror, he saw a pale guy with dark shadows under his eyes. Gavin grabbed a bottle of shampoo and threw it violently into the shower, “This god damn, fucking android!”, he yelled out. Within a few days, Connor had been able to get closer to yn. Gavin feared this android would be even able to win her over. Maybe Gavin should gather all his courage to speak with her as long as there was time or otherwise, the android could snatch her from under his nose. But how should he do that without risking their friendship?

*

Yn rummaged through her bag with clothes. She already wore some leather boots, a tight fitting and low cut, black jeans and searched for the blood red tank top. She had made her hair and she even had put makeup on with too much mascara and eyeliner for the most dramatic look. Yn found the tank top and donned it over her head. As she pulled it down, a movement in the mirror caught her attention, "Voyeurism, huh? That's a crime.", she said, smirking.

Gavin closed slowly up to her with his hands stuffed into his front pockets of his jacket, "I know. We worked on some of these cases. Listen-", he said softly, collecting all his courage and searching for the right words.

"I know what you want to say and yes, I will be careful. Connor is by my side. You and Hank on the other side of the street by the café. Nothing will happen. This is easy. You don't have to worry this much.", yn said reassuringly while she donned her leather jacket over the top. The outfit would be a bit too cold for the weather but she wanted to flirt with the suspect and so, she had to show off some skin. She even pulled down the top some more so that her décolleté got more visible.

Gavin’s eyes fell on that view which caused his mind to go blank for a moment. All in all, she was very distracting, dressed up like this and he had difficulties to focus back on what he actually wanted, "Uhm… I… It's just... There's something I have to tell-", he tried insecurely, not sure if this was a good idea at all. If Gavin would go this way there was no going back and he knew that.

The door of the locker room opened once again and Hank took the decision away from Gavin, "Yn, Fowler wants to see you.", the Lieutenant said and left again.

"Coming!”, yn called out as a response and stowed away her bag and stuff before she turned back to Gavin, “Get ready. We will leave soon.", she said with a soft pat on his chest and a smile on her lips.

Gavin looked after her. He huffed out, annoyed about himself as the door opened once again. Yn’s head appeared in the door, "Oh, and, by the way, this shirt you wear? It looks very good. The color suits your eyes.", she said, winked at him and left again. Gavin smiled softly and felt his cheeks getting warmer. He was sure that she had no idea what she was doing to him but he enjoyed these small moments. They were all he got.

*

Then, it was showtime. Hank and Gavin stood across the walkway at a bar table with two cups of coffee to go as a disguise to be able to watch the scene. JoJo was already there, leaning at the same street lamp like the day before. Now and then, he greeted someone. Then, Gavin watched yn coming down the way, still in some distance. She said something to Connor that let the android chuckle. Connor looked down at yn with a huge smile and as she looked up at him, her smile was matching the android’s one. Pain shot through Gavin as he got reminded of his dream from the night before. It was a horrible nightmare with an end that never happened like this but his mind was determined to let him suffer even more. As if it wouldn’t be enough to get reminded of yn being shot all the time. No, now the android had to be in his dreams, as well.

“It’s good that Connor kept his LED ring.”

“W-what?”, Gavin asked. Hank had pulled him out of his thoughts and this time, Gavin was thankful for the old man to be there, even if he would never admit that loudly.

Hank nodded into the direction of Connor and yn, they almost had reached JoJo, “I mean without the LED ring, Connor would look more like her handsome boyfriend than her servant.”, Hank said amused.

Gavin observed the two and wasn’t happy what he saw. Connor was dressed completely in black and with his height he looked like a bodyguard. The way they interacted told that they seemed to be very close to each other. Gavin was looking forward to the end of this bullshit, his nerves were already blank but the case just had started. It would last a bit longer til everything would fall back to normal again without Connor and Hank being around them all the time.

Then, yn passed JoJo and as she had expected, the dealer was looking after her. Much to her delight, he even whistled after her as she swayed her hips a bit more provokingly. Yn stopped and turned around. JoJo was confident, very confident, he smirked at her and wasn’t impressed by Connor as he stepped a bit forward. Yn gave him a sign to stay where he was before she walked over to JoJo with a flirty smirk on her lips.

The longer she was talking to the dealer, the more Gavin became nervous. It got on his nerves to see JoJo coming closer to yn step by step. She was laughing about whatever he said. She leant forward to be closer to him whenever she could. And Connor just stood there, observing the scene, looking out for her - as planned.

Hank noticed that Gavin was annoyed by the scene. Since yn had began to talk with JoJo, Gavin had started to torture his empty cardboard cup. He was drumming on the lid and scratching on the material the longer the whole scene lasted.

As JoJo touched yn on her hip while he leant forward to whisper something into her ear, Gavin squashed the cardboard cup completely with his knuckles turning white.

"You know, Reed, that's the reason why you couldn't do Connor's job.", Hank said and pointed at Gavin's hand.

"Shut the fuck up.", Gavin muttered angrily and just relaxed as yn and Connor left the scene finally.

[chocolatemin]

TIME (ONEUS FANTASY AU)

AMBER'S POV

Once I got inside, the passage immediately shut. Sigh. Why does that always happen? Am I in a sort of horror movie? Cold wind brushed against my cheek caused me to shiver and snap back to reality.

I looked to my surroundings and everything is covered with thick snow while the sky is pale. "Winter?" It's very cold that I can barely move from my position. I hugged myself due to intense coldness. "Why didn't Xion tell me about this?" I started walking trying my best to ignore the freezing wind. "Thank goodness, I am wearing this black leather boots, my feet could've been stuck as soon as I stepped here!" I whispered triumphantly to myself. I can't find any other way except heading straight so I didn't bother to trouble myself.

I was walking and walking until it started to snow, I pulled my hoodie up to lessen the chance of me getting sick due to excessive coldness. I just keep walking as I lost track of time, maybe an hour or two had passed already... I wasn't able to notice that the road is quite bumpy. I slipped and fell down to the pile of snow and landed on my butt. "Ow, ow, not too cold! Ouch, it burns!" I looked up and saw a large, human-sized raven looking down at me with its clawed hand offered to me. I got startled and moved back from it. "Do you want my help or not?" I got more shocked when I heard him speak but regained my composure and took his hand, the feeling of his scaled skin and claw fingers are foreign which sent chills to my body. I thanked him for helping me and apologized for my behavior. "Have you broken some bones?" "Fortunately, I haven't, thank you for your concern." I hesitantly smiled to the large black bird from the crow family.

"By the way, my name is Ravn and don't be afraid, I don't bite." He suddenly turned into a human-like appearance. He has pretty eyes that compliments his other features well. "I'm Amber, I'm looking for the way out of here and was kinda lost, perhaps do you know any exits?" "I do, there's a town plaza nearby the castle, at the back of the castle is the Forest of the Lost which I had heard rumors of having an exit somewhere." "Can you help me go to that place?" "Sure. I'm heading there too. Just follow me." He smiled at me and pulled me beside him before we started walking.

"Do you live here?" I curiously asked him. "Yes." He replied briefly. "Uh, about earlier, why were you in that appearance?" "Oh, I'm sorry about that, it was too cold at that part of the land and was snowing heavily at the woods so I used my hybrid form to keep me warm." "Ah, I see. So I'm guessing you are not a human?" "Not really. I'm from the Human-Crow family, to be specific, the Ravens." "Woah, I think that's cool." "Well, I ain't gonna deny it." I looked up to him and he smiled cheekily. "Why did you choose to walk instead of flying?" "I'm still weak as of now and I cannot fly yet. I had just recovered from cold and fever." "What? Then you shouldn't be here, you could have just stayed home!" I got worried but he reassured me, "I was looking for a certain fruit to cure me, and fortunately I found it and ate it right away. I'm all good now." "You sure?" "Yeah. Don't worry."

We walked in comfortable silence and talked occasionally, it's very easy to make a conversation with him and it wasn't awkward, as if we had known each other for some time. We reached the seventeen o'clock as said on the huge clock in the middle of the plaza. It is not like any other clocks that are up to twelve only, instead, it is up to eighteen. It was really weird. "I'm going to buy dry ingredients at the market. Is it okay for you to wait a bit?" "No problem, I am looking for a botique, is it possible to find it here?" "Yup, are you going to buy clothes for you? Do you have money, I can lend you some if you want." "Don't worry, I have some with me besides I can't stand the coldness wearing these clothes." I sighed and shook my head earning a chuckle from him. "Yeah, yeah, I'll take you there after I buy the ingredients, is it okay?" "It's okay, I don't mind waiting." I smiled at him.

—

Ravn told me to change my clothes in the bathroom. I thought there isn't enough water for them since it's currently winter but I was wrong. The pump has lots of water. Ravn even heated water for me incase I wanted to take a quick bath. As I am taking a quick bath I suddenly remembered the clock on the town plaza, why is it up to eighteen? I'll ask Ravn after. I changed into a white long sleeve ruffle blouse and fitted dress pants that I bought from the botique. It is old fashioned but simple. Ravn told me to just leave my clothes on the small table inside the bathroom. Before I leave, I made sure that the place is clean. I left bathroom feeling warm and refreshed.

I headed to the kitchen where Ravn is preparing the plates. "I'm done, thank you for letting me use the bathroom." "No problem, come here, sit down." He motioned me to sit on the chair opposite to him, "I prepared dinner." I sat down and thanked him. After we ate, I volunteered to clean the dishes while he get changed which he agreed hesistantly not wanting to bother me but I insisted.

"Are you done yet, Amber?" Ravn asked me when he got out of the bathroom. "Yes." I replied as I am drying my hands using the hand towel on the cupboard. He sat down on one of the chairs at the dining table. "Amber, please sit down, I have some questions to ask you." He said sternly which made me quite nervous, so I sat down quickly, "What is it?" "Helping you and letting you stay here doesn't mean I trust you fully and I'm not suspicious, right?" "Well, yeah. I'm still a stranger to you." "I don't want to hurt your feelings." "No, no, not at all. Go ahead."

"What are you?" Ravn realized his question, "I'm sorry it came off like that." "It's okay. I am just a mere human. Next question please." "You said you were kinda lost. How did you end up here?" "Well, I... uh, I entered a gate and was transported here. I don't know if you'll believe that but it's true." "Oh, I see. Are you aware of this place? I bet you don't know anything about the Winter Realm." "It is true that I don't." He sighed at my answer. "Be thankful that I'm the one who found you, if it was the werewolves hybrid, they could have killed you." My body shivered thinking of it. "But why would they kill me?" "They aren't very welcoming to strangers. Plus, you also look suspicious so they'll probably put you to painful death." I cringed at the thought of them tearing my body apart.

"I'm done asking questions, if you want, you can ask me too." My insides calmed down after he said that. "Then, where am I really? What kind of place is this?" My eyebrows furrowed unintentionally. "You're in Winter Realm, and obviously it's winter here. Wherein the season through out the whole year is winter." "What?!" "Yes." "How do you survive in this place? If the snowing is all-year round?" "Most of the citizens here are hybrids, humans are very rare here. And I'm not the only one from the Human-Crow family living here, we're a lot. Also, the werewolves hybrid are living here too. They are the knights of the castle while some of the human-crows are messengers and servants. Some of the hybrids us are just like me, a commoner." Woah, his house is quite big for a commoner's, that's what I thought. "Does that mean that the workers on the botique I bought these clothes, are not human? How about you?" He nodded and I gasped, if Ravn wasn't with me, maybe they won't sell clothes to me. "I sometimes have a duty in the castle as a cook or whatever they need for a special occasion like grand balls, meeting other diplomats but I work part-time on a small restaurant at the town plaza every 27 o'clock until 32."

"Oh, speaking of time, why is the clock up to eighteen?" "Are you referring to the clock on the plaza?" I nod. "It is because a day is equivalent to thirty-six hours, but! The daytime is 'til 12 o'clock only, then the rest is nighttime. That's total of 24 hours of night." "Then, what time is it now?" He looked to the window at the living room and squinted his eyes. "Hmm, according to the clock outside, it's currently passed twenty one o'clock ." "Isn't it late already?" "Not really. Why do you ask?" "In the place where I originally live, it's actually time to sleep by twenty one o'clock." "Really? You may sleep at my bed upstairs." "It's okay. I will just sleep at the couch. Can you take me to the forest later instead?" "That won't be a problem. It's actually my nap time, and I take my naps on the couch." "Oh, then I guess I'll be sleeping on the bed, you may have the couch." We both sat up and I reluctantly went to the three-stepped stairs while he's heading to the living room. "I told you, just sleep on the bed." He laughed while I climb the stairs, I just smiled at him and head to his room. I left the door half-closed since I'm not used to sleeping not in my room and for him to be able to enter without the need to knock.

I can't fall asleep yet so I stood up and went over to the window. The neighbourhood looks peaceful at night, I wonder, what are they doing too? Some are in their houses, while the others have their lights turned off. After admiring the view for some time, sleepiness finally kicked in and I immediately dozed off as I laid down myself.

—

"Amber, you ready?" Ravn asked me after I finished gathering the things I needed. "Well, the keys are here, the coins too, the fruits I bought earlier and the water bladder you gave me. I'm ready to go!" I replied to him happily and put on my sling bag. "Wait!" "Why?" I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "Take this lamp and this dagger, you can't just go to a forest without anything to protect you, especially at night!" He handed me the lamp and the dagger with a smile. I tied the dagger to my waist and hid it under my cloak. "What time is it?" "It's 26:13. I think we need to go now." "I believe so. Let's go?" Ravn opened the door to his house and let me step outside first.

—

Ravn flew me to the back of the castle and we landed safely. I climbed down from him before he transformed back to his human form, "Thank you for this, I cannot give anything back except these coins." I took the purse from my bag and handed it to him, he pushes it back to me saying he's fine but I grabbed his hand, placed the purse on it and shoved it to him and smiled, "No, I insist, take those. I have the half of it in my bag." Lie, I only left a quarter on my bag. "Well, I don't have a choice, you're too persistent." We both laughed knowing he won't win this arguement with me.

"Thank you so much Ravn for everything you did... From helping me on my way to the town, letting me stay the night, to bringing me here. I wish I could have given you anything aside from those coins." "It's alright, Amber. I'm glad I was able to help you. It's our family's rule— to help anyone in need without seeking for something in return." He plastered a smile. "Thank you again, but I think you need to head back or you'll be late for your work and might get paid less than you should have." I replied in a concerned tone, afraid he might think I'm shooing him away. His eyes went wide, looks like he had forgotten it already, I chuckled at the sight. "Oh right, I totally forgot about it, thank you for reminding me. I need to go, bye Amber." He waved to me and quickly transformed into a black raven spreading its magnificent wings. I waved back at him and he looked at me one last time before flying away.

I marched towards the inside of the said forest with excitement and nervousness. The only things I hear are the sound of crickets, owls and my own footsteps. I countinued walking until I heard a howling sound from afar. I got startled and stopped on my tracks for a while. Sure, walking at night– in the woods, with a small light and all alone? Isn't really scary. As I walked deeper and deeper to the forest, the growling of the animal became less and less faint until I spotted a creature not far from me. Its body is covered with black smoke and its eyes are glowing yellow. I stopped on my tracks to prevent further noise and hid the lamp beside me, hoping that the creature won't notice the light and come towards me. Unfortunately, it started walking to my direction causing me to flinch and drop the lamp I was carrying. It jumped infront of me and I wasn't able to move due to fear taking over me.

"Grrr, what is a lady doing here at night? Mayhaps you don't want to be able to see the sunlight tomorrow, eh?" It growled louder and before I could talk it lunged infront of me causing me to fall to the ground. "Please, spare my life." "Ha! You wish. Now, say goodbye." The creature, which somewhat look alike to a lion and wolf at the same time, slowly brings its face closer and opened its mouth widely. Is this where I end already?

-END OF CHAPTER-

[A/N: kskshskksjj-]

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