#the songs made sense. not even sorry

[the-blind-geisha]

King Boo x Reader - You're the Inspiration Chapter 1

It was always ill advised to go anywhere near the woodlands at night. The twisted, bare trees resembled a naked gallow support, ready to hang any and all who dared to walk so freely beneath them. 

Children were notorious for never taking warnings seriously, causing so many to become lost in the haunted forest just outside of town. There was a marketing billboard within Darkshire that now was full of nothing but lost children's descriptions.

For many, it was too depressing to dare to be near while others took it upon themselves to try and hunt for them—only to never be heard from again.

Even if it was hard for her to ever consider doing so, she did take quick glances at the listings pinned there upon the wooden board. Never did she want to see anybody she knew hanging there staring her in the face, as it felt like the woods did nothing but swallow the souls of the innocent.

Nobody new today , she thought to herself, tightening her grip upon the umbrella’s handle. Breathing in steadily and then out, she headed for her house only to be stopped by the sound of someone hammering away at something.

Her eyes caught sight of some Toads working with a few of the human villagers just outside of town. They were trying to repair part of the outer town’s wooden fence. It had collapsed from a dry bone’s attack a few months back.

She shivered a bit just recalling that moment.

“Careful, now,” a familiar old voice insisted. “We don't need any accidents to occur.”

Chapter 1

[mellotronmkll]

I'm gonna stop you right there. I'm gonna be honest. you're messing around right now

[mystical-one]

WARNING IM GOING TO BE HONEST AND EARNEST HERE. i really unironically unconditionally liked now and then

[airenyah]

TinnGun Aquarium Date: Where Did Tinn’s Sharks Suddenly Come From and How Are They Connected to Liking Gun?

So in episode 7 when TinnGun go on the aquarium date with Yo and his girl there is a bit of dialogue that really confused me back when the episode aired. And maybe it confused you too. So now I’m here to share some background information with you.

I’m talking about this specific line:

Back when the episode aired I just didn’t understand why Tinn was suddenly talking about sharks when he had just been referencing their date. Where did that thought suddenly come from? What’s the connection between those topics, how did Tinn get from their date to sharks and biting to liking Gun?

Well, you see, I wasn’t able to follow because I had completely forgotten about one key element here: ฉลามชอบงั���คุณ (= “sharks like biting you”) is a song by Bonnadol ft. IIVY B and Tinn is directly quoting the first line of the chorus to Gun. Cue the ensuing jokes about sharks and liking and biting.

Now you might see this and think “Ohhh so it’s a song reference and that song suddenly popped into Tinn’s mind so that’s why he’s randomly changing the topic. Plus, the song talks about sharks and liking so that’s how Tinn made the mental jump from ‘sharks may bite you’ to ‘I like you’. Got it, thanks.” and, well... yes. That’s the short answer. However, there is more to discover in this scene and more word play going on in Thai.

So come with me on a deep dive into the dialogue of this scene and find out what exactly is happening here in Thai.

We’re gonna take a closer look at Ep7 [3/4] from 10:10 onwards till pretty much the end of the scene. The given English translation of the dialogue goes as follows:

Tinn: Sharks, they may bite you. But I like you, no bite. Gun: Are you flirting or what? Here. Let me tell you something. If you want to hit on someone, use your own line. (laughs) Sharks, they may bite you. (Tinn steals Gun’s snack) Tinn: Sharks, they like to bite. I do too, but only the one I like. Gun: Bite, my ass! (laughs and shakes his head) Tinn: Look at you now. I bet you like the one that bites you.

Before we go and take a closer look at what is hidden in the original Thai lines, let me give you a quick vocabulary lesson, though:

ครับ [kráp] – often also transliterated as krub. If you’re an experienced thdrama watcher you are likely familiar with this word. But if you’re new here: ครับ [kráp] is a particle that is added at the end of a sentence to make that sentence formal and polite. ครับ [kráp] is typically used by men, while women typically use ค่ะ [khâ] instead. (You’ll also hear this particle as an answer to or confirmation of a statement/request/order/etc., but this isn’t relevant for the scene we’re about to discuss.)

ชอบ [chôp] – to like. If you’re an experienced thdrama watcher you’ve also heard this one a lot. However, what you might not know is that this word can also be used to talk about a habit or about what someone/something tends to do. Earlier I translated the song title ฉลามชอบงับคุณ [chà-lăam chôp ngáp kun] as “sharks like biting you” but it could also mean something like “sharks tend to bite you”. (word for word the title makes shark(s) – like/tend to – bite{cute} – you{formal})

ผม [pŏm] – formal/polite first person pronoun for males (I)

คุณ [kun] – formal/polite second person pronoun (you)

งับ [ngáp] – cutesy word for “to bite”

Part 1: The Song

Now with that out of the way I want to take a look at the first line of the chorus from the song:

ฉลามน่ะชอบงับคุณ ส่วนผมน่ะชอบคุณงับ [chà-lăam nâ chôp ngáp kun • sùuan pŏm nâ chôp kun ngáp]

So this line is made up of two sentences:

ฉลามน่ะชอบงับคุณ [chà-lăam nâ chôp ngáp kun]: This is the first sentence and translates to “sharks tend to bite you” or “sharks like biting you” which is also the song’s title.

ส่วนผมน่ะชอบคุณงับ [sùuan pŏm nâ chôp kun ngáp]: This is the second sentence and translates to “as for me, I like you”.

So here we can immediately see how talking about sharks and biting leads to talking about liking someone and it’s through the repeated use of the word ชอบ [chôp] aka “to like”. First the singer talks about what sharks like (biting), then the singer talks about what he himself likes (“you”).

But there’s more!

Maybe you’ve already noticed that there is another word from our vocabulary lesson that is repeated in both sentences:

ฉลามน่ะชอบงับคุณ ส่วนผมน่ะชอบคุณงับ [chà-lăam nâ chôp ngáp kun • sùuan pŏm nâ chôp kun ngáp]

Yes, the word งับ [ngáp] gets repeated as well. Now you might be a little confused, because I just told you that this translates to the verb “bite” and I also just said that the second sentence translates to “as for me, I like you”. How does the biting fit into this sentence?

Well, so the thing is… Remember the very first word from our list? Remember ครับ [kráp]? Maybe you’ve also noticed that I put it on the vocabulary list, but then it doesn’t even show up in the song lyrics at all...

Except, it does! It just doesn’t look or sound like ครับ [kráp]. It sounds like งับ [ngáp], aka the word that I just pointed out that also gets repeated in both lines.

So, as you might have guessed by now งับ [ngáp] can either be a cute way of saying “to bite” or it can also be used as a cutesy word for the polite particle ครับ [kráp]. Tinn has already used งับ [ngáp] in this sense on Gun back in episode 2 when he was pretending to be Lion, like we can see here for example:

ลองไปที่นี่ดู แล้วพี่จะรู้เองงับ [long bpai tîi nîi duu • láeo pîi jà rúu eng ngáp] try–go–to–this–see • then–older sibling–will–know–self–[cutesy polite particle]

Now let’s go back to the second sentence of the song and take a look at the pronouns: ส่วนผมน่ะชอบคุณงับ [sùuan pŏm nâ chôp kun ngáp] (= “as for me, I like you”).

The singer here uses the polite first person pronoun ผม [pŏm] when he refers to himself and the polite second person pronoun คุณ [kun] when he says “you”. These are pretty formal pronouns that usually also come with a polite particle. So technically the sentence “I like you” with these formal pronouns should go ผมชอบคุณครับ [pŏm chôp kun kráp] – literally “I like you krub”. However, the singer wants to be cute, so he switches the polite particle ครับ [kráp] with the cutesy form งับ [ngáp] and sings “I like you ngáp” instead.

(On this note, some interesting tidbit: according to my Thai friend who I discussed this scene and song with, in his words, it’s mainly “lesbian tomboys” who use งับ [ngáp]. He said men might use it in writing but don’t really say it.)

Anyway, now that we know that the song lyrics make “Sharks like to ngáp you. As for me, I like you ngáp”, let’s see what they do with it in MSP.

Part 2: Tinn and Biting

The dialogue starts out with Tinn saying “Sharks, they may bite you. But I like you, no bite”. At least it does according to the English subtitles. What he really says in Thai is this:

ฉลามอะ ชอบงับคุณ ส่วนผมอะ ชอบคุณงับ [chà-lăam à • chôp ngáp kun • sùuan pŏm à • chôp kun ngáp] shark(s)–[particle] • like–bite–you {formal} • as for–I {formal}–[particle] • like–you {formal}–[cutesy polite particle]

Here is the line from the song in comparison:

ฉลามน่ะชอบงับคุณ ส่วนผมน่ะชอบคุณงับ [chà-lăam nâ chôp ngáp kun • sùuan pŏm nâ chôp kun ngáp] shark(s)–[particle]–like–bite–you {formal} • as for–I {formal}–[particle]–like–you {formal}–[cutesy polite particle]

As we can see, Tinn is pretty much directly quoting that line of song to Gun. So a more literal translation of what he’s saying here would be something along the lines of “Sharks like biting you. As for me, I like you”. Or rather, if we remember the word play with the word งับ [ngáp] = to bite and งับ [ngáp] = cute form of ครับ [kráp], what he’s saying is actually “Sharks like to ngáp you. As for me, I like you ngáp”.

This makes Gun laugh and he says “Are you flirting or what? Here. Let me tell you something. If you want to hit on someone, use your own line.”

Now that we know Tinn quoted a line of a song we also understand that Gun recognizes it as such and that when he says “use your own line” it’s actually him calling Tinn out for quoting a song instead of coming up with his own original pick-up line.

Gun then turns away and repeats the first part of the song lyrics to himself, still very amused: ฉลามชอบงับคุณ [chà-lăam chôp ngáp kun] (= “sharks like biting you”).

Tinn was just scolded for not being original in his flirting and what does he do? He “bites” Gun and then, according to the subtitles, says: “Sharks, they like to bite. I do too, but only the one I like.”

Now let’s once again look at what’s happening in Thai. What Tinn is saying here is this:

ฉลามอะ ชอบงับคุณ ส่วนผมอะ งับคนที่ชอบ [chà-lăam à • chôp ngáp kun • sùuan pŏm à • ngáp kon tîi chôp]

Let’s bring up the song lyrics again:

ฉลามน่ะชอบงับคุณ ส่วนผมน่ะชอบคุณงับ [chà-lăam nâ chôp ngáp kun • sùuan pŏm nâ chôp kun ngáp]

We can immediately see that Tinn is once again directly quoting almost the entire line of the lyrics to Gun. He repeats the whole “Sharks like biting you. As for me…” part, but then he unexpectedly changes the last part. This time around he doesn’t end the sentence with “I like you ngáp” (ชอบคุณงับ [chôp kun ngáp]) like the song does, instead he ends it with:

งับคนที่ชอบ [ngáp kon tîi chôp] bite–person/people–that–like

Since Thai doesn’t have plural forms, this can be translated as “I bite the person that I like” or “I bite the people I like”. So what’s happening here is that after being scolded for being unoriginal, Tinn then quotes the song again but decides to prove that he can indeed think of a line on his own by changing the second sentence from “as for me, I like you” to “as for me, I bite the person/people I like”.

What’s kinda interesting to me here is that the second sentence from the song talks about คุณ [kun] (= “you”) and Tinn in his own continuation talks about คน [kon] (= person/people). I find it interesting, because these two words sound very similar. In fact, when I tried to transcribe the Thai lines I actually wasn’t sure whether Tinn was saying คุณ [kun] or คน [kon] here. It sounded like งับคน [ngáp kon] (= bite person) to me, but I was a little unsure since the song itself talks about งับคุณ [ngáp kun] (= bite you). I played it to my Thai friend and he too had to listen to it a couple of times before deciding that it must be คน [kon] as that would make more sense.

Alright, moving on. So Tinn has just quoted the song again but with a changed ending: “Sharks like to bite you. As for me, I bite the person/people I like.” Gun doesn’t know how to response to this, so after a moment of consideration he comes up with a witty comeback: “Bite, my ass!”

(Fun fact: the expression he uses here that was translated as “my ass” in English is พ่อมึง [pâaw mueng] which literally translates to “your father”. If you’re a German speaker: it means Gun is essentially saying „Deine Mutter!!“ in response lmao. Brilliant comeback, really. Extremely witty. Good job, kiddo.)

Unfortunately for Gun, Tinn’s whole flirting tactic, as silly as it was, has in fact worked on him and he can’t help but laugh again in an “I can’t believe this is the man I have chosen to love” kind of way.

Now it’s Tinn’s turn to call Gun out for it: “Look at you now. I bet you like the one that bites you.” That’s how the subtitles put it. But one last time I wanna take a look at the original Thai lines.

Tinn says two sentences here and the second sentence is more relevant for the whole song reference/word play thing, but since you’ve made it all the way here I assume you like languages and would be interested in knowing the literal meaning of Tinn’s words where the subtitles go “Look at you now”, so I’ll just tell you that too while I’m at it.

So all in all Tinn says:

อาการแบบนี้อะ สงสัยชอบคนที่งับ [aa-gaan bàep níi à • sŏng-săi chôp kon tîi ngáp]

That first sentence (อาการแบบนี้อะ [aa-gaan bàep níi à]) is a little difficult to translate for me because I don’t really know what to do with the first word, but the แบบนี้ [bàep níi] part means “like this”. The first word is อาการ [aa-gaan] which can mean “symptom” or “condition”. According to thai2english.com other meanings also include “expression” or “manner”. All in all, what Tinn is essentially doing here is pointing out Gun’s reaction, so I think to make it sound more natural and not too weird in English we could maybe say something along the lines of “A reaction like this...” for this line.

As for the other thing Tinn says, it’s this:

สงสัยชอบคนที่งับ [sŏng-săi chôp kon tîi ngáp] suspect–like–person(s)–that–bite

As I said earlier, Thai doesn’t do plural forms. Nor does it do articles. And yet another thing that Thai often doesn’t do is pronouns, meaning pronouns are often left out of the sentence entirely. Such is the case here, so this sentence could mean one of the following:

I suspect you like a person that bites.

I suspect you like the person that bites.

I suspect you like the person that bites you.

I suspect you like people that bite.

I suspect you like people that bite you.

Now what’s fun about this line is once again the word play and the reference to Tinn’s line from earlier when he said “I bite the person/people I like”. Let’s do some more comparison.

So this is what Tinn says to Gun right after he steals the snack by “biting” Gun:

ส่วนผมอะ งับคนที่ชอบ [sùuan pŏm à • ngáp kon tîi chôp] as for–I {formal}–[particle] • bite–person(s)–that–like

And this is what he’s saying to Gun now:

สงสัยชอบคนที่งับ [sŏng-săi chôp kon tîi ngáp] suspect–like–person(s)–that–bite

The reason why this is fun is that Tinn switches the words งับ [ngáp] and ชอบ [chôp]. Where first he said งับคนที่ชอบ [ngáp kon tîi chôp] (lit. “bite–person(s)–that–like” = “[I] bite [the] person/people that [I] like”) he now says ชอบคนที่งับ [chôp kon tîi ngáp] (lit. “like–person(s)–that–bite” = “[You] like [the] person/people that bite [you]”).

Let’s look at it again side by side to really see how delightful that is:

งับคนที่ชอบ [ngáp kon tîi chôp] bite–person(s)–that–like

ชอบคนที่งับ [chôp kon tîi ngáp] like–person(s)–that–bite

What’s more, Tinn switching around the words is reminiscent of, if not a deliberate callback to the word switch from the original song lyrics that started it all:

ชอบงับคุณ [chôp ngáp kun] like–bite–you {formal}

ชอบคุณงับ [chôp kun ngáp] like–you {formal}–[cutesy polite particle]

Part 3: Summary

Since this was an overwhelming amount of information in one go I’ve put all the dialogue into a table so you can look at it again side by side:

As you can see, I’ve also included the official English subtitles for those who are curious. However, I wanna stress that this isn’t to imply “the eng subs suck and I did it better!!!1!11”. I’ve put my own “literal” translation into the table mainly because the word-for-word translation of the Thai lines can be pretty confusing and I wanted to put it into a more natural sounding English so that it would make more sense.

You’ll also notice that I’ve put some of the pronouns into square brackets. That is to signify that the Thai sentence doesn’t include any pronouns there, which is relevant mainly for Tinn’s very last line as the English sentence could work either with or without the second “you”.

As for the curly brackets in the Thai column, those indicate the level of formality or the connotation of a word, especially of the pronouns.

The red text marks every time when the song lyrics are being quoted.

In Conclusion

All in all, what is happening in this scene is that Tinn quotes a line of a silly little song that includes a silly little pun and then when Gun scolds him for being unoriginal Tinn goes and takes that silly little word play even further, turning it into his own thing. And the most delightful part about it is that it absolutely works on Gun, as much as he may hate to admit it.

[majorshatterandhare]

Today I, an aromantic, was getting ready to attend a wedding… with Stranger on repeat.

[ghostcond]

not to be dramatic or anything, but i care so deeply about the dynamic between the gryphonbanes and duncan, regardless of the version of the triton avenue quest. i want to know what duncan did for suzie to have faith in him to help save her brother. i want to see the part of duncan that reached his hand out to help artur and the yw save suzie. i wholeheartedly believe that suzie and artur would not have let duncan go on that downward spiral without a fight if they knew what he was going through. i want to know that they tried. and i want them to try again

[butterflieswhisper]

hhelp wait this is so funny. didnt you follow me forever ago after a scott themed october song analysis . sorry if you dont remember that and this ask doesnt make sense but this is still funny to me

hi!!!! yeah. it was the cherri crane lives art i think and also where you made your flower husbands tag! I have never really interacted with fh outside of you (and like, seeing pretty fanart) but i am nonetheless deeply invested in your interpretation specifically!!! I honestly haven't watched jimmy outside of rats and the beginning of empires2 either i genuinely have no clue what they get up to you just seem to have a lot of fun with it

[livvyofthelake]

ok well that’s crazy

[lookwhatyoumademedo]

("fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here/pouring out my heart to a stranger/but i didn't pour the whiskey")

[raiiney-days]

i think earth is just one big fucked up dnd campaign. like, god is the sleep deprived dm who was trying to run a erious campaign but gave up bcs the players kept fucking around and doing stupid shit. and jesus and the archangels are the players who keep coming up with increasingly stupid ways to deal with shit.

[browngurl99]

I hate you Bollywood making the most average music known to human kind which sounds good just because of the audio fx and making a very high production music video for it so people will be fooled into watching those music videos and Labels will earn money without putting any efforts in making quality and original music and-

[sunnywalnut]

To put it simply: you're allowed to have fun in public as long as it doesn't infringe on anybody else's experience.

Going on your phone in the movie theater? Infringing on other people's experience.

Listening to music/videos loudly in public? Infringing on other people's experience.

Making a scene and insisting that it is completely fine despite people telling you politely that hey, please wear headphones if you're going to do this thing? Infringing on other people's experiences.

You know that feeling of annoyance when a baby cries very loudly in public? Yeah. That's what everyone feels when you do things like this. Except it's multiplied by 1000 because you're not an infant that is experiencing everything for the first time. You do not have to deal with the sensation of temperature change, strangers touching you and taking you away from your safe person at a whim, randomly being transported into new places with new smells and new noises every second of every day, or being unable to explain any of this to anyone.

You're just a dick.

my unpopular opinion is that i hate tiktok because now people just publicly watch loud ass videos in public spaces with no regard for anyone else. 100% it was not this bad with youtube, it’s such a different thing with tiktok. put on headphones. you are grown.

[forestlovesyou]

The primal rage that takes over me when I see a song on Spotify with awfully misheard lyrics is unbelievable.

No but for real I made an account on Musixmatch and learned everything it offered just so I can correct it but for it to be available i would've had to send in a pic of my ID so I went nah fuck that this ain't worth it.

Anyway the song that pissed me off was:

I love it very much and I have on OC I can apply this to but aughhh the lyrics annoy me. The correct lyrics are available on Genius though....

[invisible-pink-toast]

#to answer my own question: nobody talks about it because it happened in season five of angel#and nobody watched that far

why does nobody ever talk about angel and spike fighting over the shanshu prophecy?

when spike points out that angel views his soul as a curse, as punishment, as being forced to live with the guilt of everything he's done, whereas spike fought for his soul. nearly died for it. the demon with no soul still wanted to do the right thing, to be a good man, so desperately he would destroy himself for the chance.

and then angel says something VERY interesting to spike. spike says he thinks angel hates him because he's a living reminder of his evil. "cause every time you look at me, you see every dirty little thing i've done. all the lives i've taken. because of you. drusilla sired me, but you made me a monster."

and angel, the man who, without his soul, tortures and kills people sadistically for fun and feasting, the man who insists he is not angelus, says, "i didn’t make you, spike. i just opened up the door and let the real you out."

SUCH an interesting thing to say, angel! let's talk about this. no, please—go on. explain how you are better than spike in any way. i'm fascinated. i'd love to hear how you and angelus are different people but the demon who possessed william the poet is somehow the same as the man.

you can't have it both ways, you horrifically catholic man. you aren't a better person just because you've suffered more.

[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

_______________________________________________

With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 6

in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe

The car ride is the worst of your life. 

Neither of you speak. 

And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 

Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 

Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 

When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 

For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 

“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 

Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 

But you never claimed to be strong.

Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.

“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”

Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 

The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry. 

For not loving you?

If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?

But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 

As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 

“I don’t understand you.”

The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 

“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 

“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”

“Explain what?”

You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 

He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 

“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”

A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 

His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 

“Love you back?”

You blink. 

Your stomach drops. 

For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 

What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 

Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 

What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 

“I didn’t…”

“You didn’t mean it.”

The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 

“That’s not what I was—”

“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”

It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 

“Spencer…”

It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 

He swallows. 

“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”

For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.

“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”

“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”

And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 

“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”

You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 

“Wait.”

He says your name.  

And of course you pause. 

You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 

“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 

The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 

“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”

You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 

Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 

“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”

Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 

“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”

You blink. 

And for some reason, begin sobbing. 

Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 

“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

You take a shuddering breath. 

“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”

Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 

You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 

“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”

“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”

You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 

“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”

His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 

“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”

Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 

“How could I not be so in love with you?” 

Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 

“Really?”

“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”

The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 

When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 

“Too honest?”

You shake your head as if in a fog. 

“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”

He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 

“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”

“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 

“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”

There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 

“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”

He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 

“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”

You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 

Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 

“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”

As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 

“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 

“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 

“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 

“Ambience over everything, baby.”

His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 

“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”

You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 

Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.

He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 

“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 

“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”

He knows he hasn’t.

“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”

Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 

“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”

“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 

He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 

Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 

Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.

His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 

Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 

And he’s laughing. 

“What were you drinking?”

You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.

“Water.”

“Before that, baby. At the bar.”

You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 

“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”

“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”

Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 

Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 

“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 

“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 

It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 

“Love you.”

He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 

“I love you.”

It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 

A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 

Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 

“I’m sorry.”

You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 

“For what?”

The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 

“For what I said at the bar.”

Oh.

That.

It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 

You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 

At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 

“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”

Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 

“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”

“It is not. I made you cry.”

Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 

“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”

You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 

“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”

You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 

“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 

But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 

“You know what you could do right now?”

The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 

“What’s that?”

You smile slyly. 

“You could kiss me again.”

“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”

“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 

“I thought I was already forgiven.”

“Apologies can be retracted.”

“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”

Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 

As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 

Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 

Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 

But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 

“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.

He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 

“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”

Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 

“Playing nice?”

“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”

Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 

“According to who?”

His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?

“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”

You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 

“What?”

“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”

You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 

“I think I’m in a great place.”

At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 

“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”

“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 

“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”

Reluctantly you nod. 

“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”

In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 

“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”

That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 

“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”

He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”

“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”

You turn back around, brows raised. 

“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”

“Uh-huh. Come here.”

Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 

But at the same time—everything’s different. 

And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 

“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 

“Hey what?”

“I remembered what I was gonna say.”

The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“Tell me.”

“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”

“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”

It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.

“You already knew everything.”

“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”

And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 

“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 

Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 

Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.

Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 

Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 

The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 

Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 

“Jesus, you—”

But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 

“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”

-

part seven