#this has been cooking for two months. i'm happy it's finally done!

[deuynndoodles]

[ID: A colored, digital comic featuring characters from Dey's Links Meet AU with a focus on Mask. The colors are muted and warm.

The group walk through a forest marked as "Rancher's Era." Rancher leads the group, commenting that they're "Almost there". Tiny, Tracks, Mask, Vet and Sky follow behind him, in that order.

"Oh, how sad..." someone says. A skeleton rests against a tree, sword and shield in hand, wearing the Hero's Shade armor. Mask's shadow casts upon the skeleton, their head lining up right with the skull.

Mask furrows their brow, expression near indiscernible.

"Kid, hurry up!" Mask rolls their eyes and turns to follow.

Sky waves to Mask as they run ahead to catch up. Their eyes are not visible. End ID]

hero's shade

[tiredsmashbros]

and so we are gathered here today, to hear TSB's horrible 1k sobbing {LONG}

well guys, it's been officially a week later since the end of the "birthday party" event. crazy it already flew by fast but formerly something i really wanted to say from the very start: thank you.

quite frankly i know i could've just made a simple thank you text as a normal person does, but i wanted to really to show my gratitude by giving something nice. and that something nice was the discord server until... my chaotic brain decided to make a daily week event inspired by scott cawthon UIGHJDSXUKGJH but otherwise- i hope everyone enjoyed tuning in everyday and i've personally been having a blast talking and hanging out with everyone since.

now, i got my secret final card up my sleeve that i've been wanting to do. was to give back something to some specific folks. amazing folks. folks that one: were my introduction to this amazing smg4 community, and two: friends i've made that has genuinely changed my life for the better, and three: been the greatest support i could've ever asked. it's still insane to me that i knew my life would be changed the moment i clicked on a youtube video of someone yapping about a specific blue and purple character from a gmod meme show and if they would work canonical. following up with me just 3 hrs later my first fanart doodle for myself. with just recently that moment being so happy i reached 100 followers on here... if you would've told me four months later that it'll exceedingly grow 10x i would laugh at you and walked away... you guys are insane in the best way possible it has scared me to death, but never have i done better improving my skills and mental health.

and with that, i give to thy, my absolute wholeheartedly appreciation:

@theartistisme43 you were the, if not one of, my first exposure to the community on twitter when i was looking for fanart on day one. i remember vividly being so captivated by your smg4 au by implementing sign language to your smg4 rigs. especially cause despite i've been meaning to relearn sign language for years, it has a special place in my heart for personal reasons. i remember being so obsessed with your animations replaying it again and again and adoring your art style so much. i've been {and still am} really shy expressing my feelings but seriously man i genuinely love your work so, so, SO much. it's still insane to me how you get the unfortunate rope under your feet by some nasty ass fools on twitter, but ong, they're just so jealous our your gmod rigging talent and storytelling. seriously man keep going!! always excited to see what you cooking up next! 💛

@ominus-potato + @bluestrawberrybunny adding you both together because ong it will feel weird to me if i didn't. of course, i am a fanfic addict once i get into a new fixation... and you two have been feeding me graciously. ominus, i love and get inspired by your fics SO MUCH it's insane to me how i'm alive after reading a new piece you've made /pos. you were also my introduction to marware and i've stayed since even if it was started of as a joke UIGHJV. strawberry i remember discovering you on artfight but exploded when i found out you were the creator of the apprenticeship au fic. i was shy to read it but i've been wanting to give you something before artfight started i finally caved in to the lore and my only regret is not getting into it sooner. i love both of ya'lls writing styles so much it's inspired me to genuinely get back into writing fanfics. thank you both so much and please continue writting!!!! i get so excited every now and again going to bed reading them. 💛🌈

@aquaproductions and speaking about artfight... yoU! i remember discovering you actually from trap sanchez's smg4 map BECAUSE THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I WAS PAUSING TO SEE EVERY PEICE TO THEN EXPLODE WHEN YOU SHOWED THEM AT THE END HIUGJHFEDS i LOVE you style so much and god when i got the message from you on artfight i actually fucking screamed. even getting that attacked for you has never once failed to make me smile. i've overcome it by now,, but i genuinely was really shy because you are just so cool and i'm still going crazy the fact your a fan of the boys LIKE BROOOOOOOOOO IUGHJDSXYUJ. ahem- anyways... kEEP BEING SLAY AQUA!!!!! 💛💕💛

@coralalala64 + @cookiepopcat ah yes another duo bc im trying to shorten this but cause you both played a similar role for me. you two, i kid you not, are the first folks i followed while joining the smg4 community. i am in love with your traditional work sm corala i am just obsessed with comics and seeing someone was making 34 comics just made me jump in glee. additionally i love the c r e a t u r e gag sO MUCH T&*YGUIHJK. cookie in general i adore your artstyle so much and especially how you add those little sparks on the hair GUHH ITS SO CUTEEEE!!! i became more of a bigger fan from your shark au and now a fan of ur new au with 3! so excited to see what you guys got cooking up next!!! 🌿💛

@zurkton i know we don't get the opportunity to talk much more but i seriously wanted to feature you in as my appreciation from the insane support you've been giving me. seeing your comments make me smile in glee and even a bonus seeing something new you make. i adore your gmod style of these silly mario recolors BUT SRSLY MAN UR OWN STYLE IS SO GOOD AND SEEING U MADE AN OC FINALLY GUH ITS BEEN IN MY TO DO LIST FOR SOOOOOOO LONG. JUST GUH I LOVE UR WORK SO MUCH PLEASE CONTINUE BEING AWESOME AND I HOPE WE CAN GET MORE TIME TO BE ABLE TO YAP MORE!!! /GEN 💛🍳

@clownypillar oh yeah. you bet your buggy ass i added you on here. cause bRO i was surprised to find someone else who loves bugs it made my little me so happy. and i still have not gotten over that smg4 cult of the lamb au you made since, i love that game sm seeing that on my feed just made me immediately become a fan. doesn't help the fact blue/silas says really amazing and silly things about you in our talks i was so shy finding the right opportunity to try and talk to you qnq,, and when the opportunity did come up {bot issue} I GOT EVEN MORE NERVOUS IHKJFEGDSXUGJH /POS i love your humor sm man you are so fun and i apologize silas has gotten you under the theory trap sigh... but other than that i need to get back into my retired bug fixation and find more ways to make fun of you as we yap and appreciate dr pepper 💛🌈🥤🐛

@libbytwq i still remember the day i got that tsb piece from you on artfight and literally screaming and running around my room in glee seeing my silly man in a silly looney pose. seriously man, ever since i saw that i immediately became a fan of you. i just am a sucker for your style man /srs. hECK i remember struggling so hard to pICK someone to fight back bc i genuinely loved all your ocs and wanted to do everyone- i also find it sO funny and ig coincidental theres so many like coincidences with you??? ong i need to say this or im going to continue going crazy- like ong libby {oc} reminds me one of my trusted friends oc and brings me back to my 2016 nostalgia days, i actually have an oc name lore who has a similar hair style as smgl:e, AND THE FACT WITH OUR SMG4 OCS LORE SIMILARITIES LIKE BRO WE LIVE IN A MATRIX OR SOME SHIT THIS MAKES MY BRAIN EXPLODE AAAAAIOYUIGHJEFDSXZ /J but in all seriousness bro, i love talking with you and seeing your silly work so much. i know you're gonna be makin awesome things bro and you bETTER WIN THOSE MARCHING BAND COMPETITIONS IUGJHEDS 👑🍔🌈💛

@its-a-me-mango mango mango mango... YOU BRITISH FREAK- anyways. you seriously were one of my favorite artist when i joined and ngl i was absolutely terrified talking to you to the point i legit thought you hated me at some point IOKJEHFDWS heCk getting that attack from you on artfight blew my fucking mind bc i was screaming over the tari duck since af was the only place i dropped the tari love interest and i didnt realized it until i looked at your page that you were THE MANGO... bro i actually fucking exploded you have no fucking idea how happy i was 🌈. like you are one srsly one of my favorite inspirations man i love your artwork, your humor, and just everything man. i'm still going internally insane that im talking to you sm bro and the memes we mAKE BRO IM UYIGJHFDWSXZYUITJG THANK YOU FOR BEING SUCH A SILLY MANGO HORSE DOCTOR DUDE, YOU ARE SO COOL, INCREDIBLE, AND MAN WHERE IS THAT SNOWTRAPPED 1K YOU PROMISED /J i could go on a bit more but im literally exploding just writing this rn so now imma just lalalalalalalala 🍔💛🌈🥭🐴

@josiekatxd / josiekatxd jo. you are one insane creature /pos. LIKE DAMN MAN YOU DRAW SO FAST IT WAS WILD GETTING ALL THE AMAZING TSB GIFTS AND GETTING TO KNOW MORE OF UR OC 7 JUST BECAME A MORE JOYOUS RIDE!!!! i love your work so much man and the amount of support i've gotten from you makes me so so SOOSOSOSOS HAPPY ITS OVERWHELMING /POS. i enjoy talking with you man {even if i may be slow at timess..} pLEASE dont be afraid to send me smth, more yummy art or MEMEMSSSSS i appreciate anything and everything!!! this was honestly such a joy getting to draw 7 again she's been stuck in my head for so long hELPPP /SILLY 🌿⭐️💛

@rr3d2y AKO!!!!! YOU!!!!!!! YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SERIOUSLY MAN EVER SINCE THAT ATTACK YOU MADE FOR ME FROM ARTFIGHT I HAVE BEEN A DIEHARD FAN SINCE. I WENT ABSOLUTELY INSANE OVER IT SO MUCH I HAD TO SHARE IT WITH MY IRL FRIENDS IT MADE ME SO HAPPY. EVEN MORE HOW YOU ACTUALLY IMPLEMENT MY INTERESTS EVERY TIME YOU ATTACKED??? LIKE HELLOOOO??????? AND DAWKO??????? AND JUST UR OC IN GENERAL I LOVE HER SO MUCH BROOOO IUYGJHEFWDCSXZUYHKJ EDWSHJDCS LIKE DUDE I HAD NO IDEA HOW MUCH I COULD WRITE A FULLBLOWN ESSAY UNTIL YOU BARGED IN WITH YUMMY ART EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. YOU SPOIL ME SO MUCH AKO YOU ARE INSANELY INCREDIBLE AND SUCH A JOY TO TALK TO AND BE SILLY WITH. IT MADE ME SO HAPPY TO FIND SOMEONE WHO SHARES MY INTERESTS FROM THE START AND I STILL GO CRAZY EVERY TIME ANY OF IT IS MENTIONED. WHETER ITS SMG4, DAWKO, CG5, FAIRYOFFPARENTS, SONIC, WOLVERINE UYIGJHEFDSCXUIGJH IT ALL MAKES ME JUMP UP AND DOWN KICKING MY FEET MAN. I MEAN IT WHEN I SAY IM A BIG FAN AKO. I APPRECIATE EVERY SINGLE 1 MILLION PERCENT AND ADORE YOUR SUPPORT SO MUCH. THANK YOU AKO THE GREAT!!!! LIFETIME SUPPLY OF CHOCOLATE MILK FOR YOU!!!!!!! 🍫🥛💛🌈🍔💕

@radiantrevolt i know your not in the smg4 community whatsoever let alone know anything but i srsly meant it that receiving your support was such a big deal to me man. i never expected you to join the server but it genuinely made me feel more secure knowing i got you right my side just like old times. your support means the world to me man even if i suck as explaining or expressing that. you genuinely mean a lot to me man and the fact your still sticking around if still mind boggling to me evermore. thank you ander for staying by my side and willing to do so even at a space your unfamiliar with. being able to talk to you again has been such a joyride 💛💛💛💛🌈🐈‍⬛

and lastly...

these two freaks...

@strange0-0storm + @bluesbox... honestly... i owe you two a lot. genuinely. storm i remember you specifically when i first started acknowledging the smg4 community bc of how recognizable smg8 was on tumblr and immediately finding you to be so cool. so cool in fact, I WAS TOO SHY TO INTERACT TYIGHJFEDS. i LOVE smg8 so much and getting to see your other ocs such as jessee, cold cash, spamton... 8YIUGFEDSU J ITS JUST SO COOL AND HOLY FUCK MAN I LOVE YOUR ART SO FUCKING MUCH. I AM STILL FUCKING OBSESSED WITH THE TSB PIECE FROM ARTFIGHT MAN VDCXZUYJHGF ITS JUST SO PERFECT I CAN GO FUKING GO OFF AGAIN IHUGFJEDS but in all seriousness man, thank you so much for having the courage to respond to my lipbite comic, to me having the courage to follow you back and interact with you more, to giving me the courage again to join ur server, and the courage to say yes to watching popee with you and silas. finn you have no idea how much your silly words have an impact on me you make me so nervous in the most positive silliest way you have no idea how genuine happy i was being in that call for the very first time. even tho i know how quiet and anxious i was from the start, it was cause i was so shy and nervous bc man it was you! YOU!!!! you're such a fucking awesome guy finn i want you to seriously never forget that!!!! silas, thank you for even talking to me. hell, even after finn left to sleep we stayed and yapped for few more hours. i was never expecting that outcome ever in my life due to past experiences, and im so glad to the earth and back that it did come out as it did. i love talking to you man, i love seeing your work so much, and adore and appreciate to the fullest all the gifts you made me. thank you even more for getting me into the great gatsby and returning my hidden sherlock fixation back to light. i appreciate it way more that i can ever express it man. whether it may us talking about our day, silly nonsense, or me bullying you /j, it makes me so happy. and so grateful i can call you and finn my friends. you guys seriously helped me get out of my darkest angst shell i've had caged inside myself for the past, i didnt think i would ever escape from let alone actually be able to heal from. i didn't think i could ever be the happy ever again. like guys, i look forward to every week getting to get on a call with you guys so much its honestly my favorite activity/event of the week. i know im just silly guy i don't ever show my sappy self ever to ya'll but i mean it wholeheartedly ya'll helped me out so much more than you guys could ever imagine. i love you both so much i just wanna pick you two up and throw you into a canon so we could all go to disney world together and be just be silly. thank you finn, thank you silas 💛🤍💙🍔🍟🥤

i could honestly continue yapping but i was not expecting this to take longer than i was originally expecting so imma just end it here for now. i do want to thank everyone in the smg4 community for your continuous support. the amount of appreciation and love i get is still insane for me to grasp and i adore every single piece of giftart i've ever received. never did i expect to grow this big let alone meet such incredible and talented people ever in my life. i genuinely love all of you guys. thank you so much and onwards to more silliness!!! 🍔🌈 ⛅️🌿

[prettypinkporkchop]

Hiii could you please do a Paul or Embry x reader where she’s been trying to get pregnant for a long time and everyone around her is getting pregnant so she’s really upset until she finally gets what she’s always wanted😊

You stare at the negative test. You and Embry were so sure this would go around! You've followed your doctors orders and done everything you were supposed to. But, unfortunately, that's not the case.

You sniffle and wipe a tear off of your cheek.

"Baby! I'm back!" You hear Embry call out.

You quickly gather yourself and throw away the test. "Okay, hot stuff! Hang on!" You call out. You finally step out of the bathroom and see him setting the takeout on the counter.

Embry is smiling and humming while opening the food and putting it on plates. He looks up at you. "Do you want tea or Kool-Aid?" He asks.

You're about to respond, but he notices something is wrong.

"Baby? What's wrong?" He walks around the counter and walks in front of you. His hands softly hold onto your arms.

You couldn't hold it in. You start bawling. "It was negative again."

He frowns and pulls you into a hug. He strokes your hair and shushes you softly. "It's okay. We are going to have a baby. I know it." He kisses your head. "I'll make sure of it."

Later that night, after you both have taken showers, you get in the bed. You really want to try again. You want to do this every night until it happens. Plus, Embry's a god in bed.

You get on top of him and press your lips on his. He kisses you back and squeezes your ass and then slapping it.

"You want to?" He mumbles in your mouth.

"Yes." You whisper and move your lips to his hot neck.

----

You rock Kim's baby in your arms. Jared is sitting next to you, smiling down at his baby boy. You're wishing this was your baby. Kai (son's name) looks so much like Jared. You dream about your baby looking like Embry.

"He's such a handsome boy. He's gonna grow up and be strong like me." Jared gushes.

"Hm. You're right. He definitely has your face. He may have your personality, too. Another Jared is going to be a challenge." You snort and look at him.

He glares at you. "Well, another you would be a pain." He replies.

Your eyes lower, and then you turn your face back to the baby. Nobody knows that you've been trying for so long.

Rachel and Paul's toddler crawls on the floor through the living room.

"Get back here!" Paul chases him while laughing.

"Paul Lahote, stop tormenting our son!" Rachel yells from the kitchen.

----

Every night, you and Embry try and try again. It's been like this for a couple of months now. Embry has been your biggest supporter. He's there to hold you when you're crying, and he's encouraging. He goes to every doctor visit and reminds you to take your meds and vitamins.

But this day, you're late. Two days late. You're so excited! Embry is gone with the guys. You text him to bring home a test. You fill the day with cleaning and cooking. You have a good feeling. You're so happy!

Finally, he comes home. He's a smiling mess. He drops the test in your lap. "Go! Hurry!" He squeals.

You laugh and run to the bathroom. You pee on it and wait.

Negative.

You scream in aggravation and throw the test in the trash. You stomp out of the bathroom. Embry stands up quickly and grabs onto you.

"I'm sorry.." He pulls you into his chest. "I'm so sorry."

You start crying and just let go in his arms. He lifts you up bridal style and brings you to the bed. He starts tucking you in and turns on the TV and hands you the remote. You watch as he tries to get you comfortable and make you feel better. But you want to try again.

You throw the remote across the bed. "Embry. Let's do it."

----

Embry is driving the truck while you look out the window. You both are headed to Jacob and Renesmee's house for a big dinner in celebration of her being fully grown. (Weird. I know.)

You start to feel a bit nauseated. You don't think too much of it. You haven't eaten today, so you're thinking it's that.

You guys make it there. The house has lights in the trees. You can see inside a few of the Cullens and some of the pack. You walk inside, hand in hand with Embry.

"Hey guys!" Renesmee calls out. She walks up to you both and wraps her arms around yours and his necks.

"Hey, Nessie! Congrats on your growth." You giggle and rub her back.

She pulls away, giggles, and then looks down at your stomach. She puts her hand there and looks up at you.

Your breath catches in your throat.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" She smiles again.

A tear falls from your cheek, and you smile, choking out surprised and happy laughs. Embry wraps you up and spins you around.

"Oh my God. Baby, we did it!" He cries into your neck.

You hear cheering behind you guys.

He sets you down and grabs your face, kissing you. "I fucking love you." He mumbles against your mouth.

"I love you more." You reply and grip onto his shirt, still crying happy tears into the kiss.

[it-was-summer]

Come In With The Rain- Part Two (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long. I could tell everyone everything that has been going on for the past couple of weeks but I fear that no one cares. I genuinely found solace in writing this, and I really hope everyone likes it! I have not proofread this very throughly, but hey partially proofreading something is better than nothing at all guys. I thought about writing a SFW and NSFW version but I feel like if you don't want to read the smut in this... just scroll down a little more and it'll go away. With so much love and gratitude, Em.

Link to the Ao3: Come In With The Rain

Part one -> You are on Part Two!

Yee olde masterlist

WARNING: Light cursing, pining, guilt up the wazoo, Spencer Reid being pookie again, death mentioned (its literally a part of Swan Lake don't worry), ballet talk by someone who sucks at ballet (me), SMUT okay?!?!?!?, the words cunt and cock guys!!! (I'm 22 I have free will), unprotected sex (STIs are no joke, believe me), fingering, mention of oral sex, slight dirty talk, female anatomy, dark house mentioned, joke of a heart attack, and a secret final thing (not proofread well enough probably).

Plot: Coping with your break-up was no easy feat. Luckily, Spencer is there to help. Maybe that's why he can't stop thinking about you.

Word Count: 20,043

Day Two Hundred and Five

After week two of the breakup, you decided you couldn’t sit around and cry on Spencer’s couch anymore. You weren’t ready to go out every night or date again by any means; you were still working on some things in the dating area. Dating someone for two years and five months will do that to you.

But you were ready to get back to doing things you enjoyed: reading novels, watching movies, baking, cooking, knitting, and spending time with a man you were grateful to call one of your best friends.

Spencer Reid was a godsend. He wouldn’t accept any money as a thank-you for letting you crash on his couch for a month, so you moved to your next best angle– spoiling the man. If he went to the grocery store, you went with him. You’d take control of the cart and grab items needed for breakfast, lunch, and dinner– you became a hardworking FBI agent’s dream. You’d make breakfast for the two of you, occasionally making lunch with too many leftovers, forcing Spencer to take some before he left for work that day, and then topping it all off with dinners. 

He had tried to get you to stop multiple times. He felt terrible and guilty for having a guest in his kitchen more than he was. You wouldn’t hear it, and the times you did, he would find a book he had mentioned last week on his bed the next day. 

He felt like he was losing his mind over your kindness. You were overcompensating when there was no reason to overcompensate. He kept telling you how happy he was to have you in the apartment, that you were safe, but you would just say a sweet “I know” before you’d be on his couch looking up a recipe for some elaborate jello dessert. 

You sat across from him at his dining room table, humming softly as you ate. Seeing your slightly happy mood made Spencer feel better. He assumed another reason for your ‘attentive’ behavior recently was that it was a coping mechanism for you. Struggling with the loss of a two-year relationship, he knew you were struggling— struggling with quite a bit, actually: your failed relationship, your upcoming move, being cheated on, and, the cherry on top, immense guilt. 

You felt like a burden above all else. You had told Spencer as such after apologizing for nothing for what seemed to be the tenth time two weeks ago. He threatened to find whoever taught you the word and ensure they never saw the light of day again, and that got a smile out of you at the time.

Spencer was starting to wrestle with some guilt of his own. It wasn’t that you had done anything to warrant said guilt. You were the perfect guest—a saint. Even when faced with situations that would leave anyone nearly catatonic for weeks, you were spoiling him. And he was eating it up, literally and figuratively. 

A rational voice inside of his head knew that being around you was a bad idea at the current time. Josh had accused you of cheating on him with Spencer emotionally, that is. It was a terrible time, and it couldn’t be a worse time for him to realize how strong his feelings were for you. It is not necessarily love per se, but perhaps it is an intense infatuation. He kept trying to rationalize his feelings over and over and over again. He knew you were nowhere near ready for that kind of revelation. He had to intellectualize and compartmentalize his emotions into a tiny box in his brain to protect himself and you. That was the right thing to do. 

So, he relished in these little moments while you were still crashing at his apartment, happily eating across from him—all while knowing he could not have you. You’d always take a few bites and then ask him how his day was. The simple ask made a smile appear on his face nearly every time. 

He shrugged a little, a small smile on his lips as he twisted some noodles onto his fork. “It was okay, thankfully, it was slow. Paperwork is a nice break from traveling for cases. Not that I don’t like the cases, they can just get…” He trails off briefly, looking down at the chow mein on his fork. “Overwhelming.” 

When he looks up, his heart nearly melts at the sweet, empathetic look you’re giving him. With you, it was never pity. You always looked at him with soft, compassionate eyes and a look that told him you felt for him. He remembers mentioning his struggles with his mother briefly as the two of you watched a movie earlier that week, a character being paranoid schizophrenic. You briefly expressed sympathy for the character and how hard it must be to live with something like that. Spencer can’t remember what came over him when he said, “It’s hard on a family– hard to watch.” 

You stared at him for a second before you blinked a little and reached for his hand, resting your palm on the back of his hand. You said nothing after that, and Spencer was happy you didn’t pry. 

You were good at listening like that, something he adored about you. You never bombarded him with questions; sometimes, you’d offer a soft “Do you want to talk about it?” but nothing beyond that. 

You knew you could be nosy with Spencer’s job, but sometimes you could look into those hazel eyes and tell when he did or didn’t want to talk about something. It was a superpower you had picked up in the almost seven months of knowing him. 

You poked at a carrot with your chopsticks after Spencer answered your question regarding his day, “Paperwork day for the guy who reads twenty-thousands words per minute has got to go by fast,” 

“You would think so, but sometimes, when I sit down for so long, all my energy leaves me. Has to be all the sleep I’ve been losing lately due to someone’s soft snoring in the living room.” He chuckles softly, a playful look in his eyes as he bites down on his chow mein. 

You gasp and glare at him playfully, “You said it wasn’t that bad!” You’re shaking your head in seeming disbelief as he chews, taking a moment to tease him more. “I can’t believe you, Spencer Walter Reid, would lie to me like this. How am I supposed to trust you?” 

He’s rolling his eyes as he swallows, his mouth opening to reply when a knocking at his door causes the two of you to cease all sounds of laughter and look toward the door. You watch as Spencer walks to the door, looking through the peephole. He sends you a sympathetic look over his shoulder and opens the door. 

You’re standing up now, walking away from the small dining room table to peer over who is at the door. You feel your knees become weak at the sight of them together. It’s a blatant attempt to get back at you, and it isn’t exactly subtle as Estelle wraps her arms around Josh’s arm. You watch as his elbow presses into her exposed cleavage, and you feel like laughing wildly. 

Josh is slow to see you behind Spencer, but eventually, his eyes land on you. You want to look away, but his eyes on yours have you frozen. You lick your lips nervously as you wonder why he’s here. Two weeks, almost three, of not even attempting to see you. And now he’s at Spencer’s front door. He’s probably sick with satisfaction at the fact that you’re here– you can see it in the way he smiles at you. 

You used to love seeing him smile, but this one causes your stomach to turn. He’s saying something, but it all sounds like static. You shake your head a little before you hear your voice whisper, “Sorry, what?” 

“I have a box of your things.” He repeats, and you see the cardboard box now. You nod a little and walk toward the door. Your hands are shaking as you take the box away from him. You look at Estelle, who is trying to avoid your gaze, as you take the box. 

“Why didn’t you text me?” 

“I didn’t want to see it anymore,” He maneuvers Estelle’s hand into his as you take the box away from him. “That and we were on our way out tonight. What’s wrong with two lovebirds visiting two other lovebirds.” 

Your tongue feels like sandpaper as you try not to yell, cry, throw up, maybe all at once. Spencer is the one who speaks up for you, “We aren’t in a relationship,” 

“Oh, so you’re just screwing my leftovers?” 

Spencer is trying to keep calm, but his grip on the edge of his door is tightening, and he can hear the anger in his voice as he says, “Have some respect.” 

He feels Josh’s laughter at his comment coarse through his veins like a non-luminescent flame; venom rises on his tongue before he feels a soft hand touching his arm. Your eyes are wide and sorrowful as you silently shake your head at him. It’s enough to make him stand down but not enough to stop him from attempting to kill your ex-boyfriend with a glare. 

“Thank you, Josh. I hope the two of you have a lovely evening.” You say as you motion for Spencer to close the door, and you let out a shaky sigh as he does, the door closing with a light click. “Thought I packed everything,” you whisper as you walk back to the dining room table, setting the box on the floor next to you. As you sit back in your chair to eat, Spencer stands awkwardly next to you for a second, his eyes looking at the box before he tears them away and sits in his seat. 

It is quiet, so quiet and tense that Spencer can hear everything. His senses are attuned to any signs of distress from you, but none do. You look up from your Chinese food after a while and give him a little confused look. He’s sure he’s looking at you strangely, so he decides he can’t handle the silence anymore. “Why are you still nice to him?” 

You look back down at your food as you poke at pieces of broccoli and celery. You sigh gently as your shoulders slump, “What’s the point of being mean? He has Estelle. He thinks he’s won whatever our break-up was. I can’t fight that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Can’t argue with someone who doesn’t think they’re in the wrong, Spence.” 

Spencer draws his lips into a tight line and looks at his food, slowly twirling some soy-covered noodles on his fork. “I guess not, but it still isn’t fair to you.” 

“None of this is fair, but I can’t control it. I can only control myself. He didn’t listen the first time, and he won’t listen the second time. I’d be wasting my breath.” You huff out sharply as you take a bite of soy-covered broccoli. Spencer raises his gaze to meet yours and smiles apologetically, but he doesn’t have to say the words as he watches you chew. You’re already shaking your head with amusement in your eyes. 

After a few more minutes of silent eating, you glance at the box by your feet and playfully ask, “You want to see what we got?” 

Spencer wants to tell you that it’s your stuff. You probably already know what is inside, but he figures you already know that. You’re just trying to make the situation less tense. So, he nods, “Yeah,”

You clap your hands together quickly before leaning down to grab the box. You look up at him and count down slowly, “Three… Two… One!” Your fingers open the box as you laugh. 

Spencer doesn’t need to lean over the table to see what is inside the box as you slowly start pulling items from the box and holding them up proudly. A half-read book, bookmarks, pens, earrings, necklaces, and then your fingers stall. You slowly pull out a photo of Josh’s family with yours, the two of you in the middle. You frown a little as you show Spencer, and he wonders what he should say in an attempt to comfort you. 

But you’re gently turning the photo back to you and tracing the edges. Then you smile, a genuine smile. It’s the last thing Spencer expects from you as you whisper, “It was a great vacation, you know? I kept asking for those cocktails with the little umbrella, and Josh’s mom and I kept talking about–” You cut yourself off.

You look up at Spencer, “Well, it was great.” 

Spencer wanted to grab you by your shoulder and shake you out of it, and he didn’t understand how you could be so happy to remember your time with Josh when the relationship ended so badly. How could you give Josh another one of your smiles? 

“I know it seems dramatic,” you sigh as you set the picture back into the box. “But Monday, I was just at work and felt free… if that makes any sense?” 

Spencer shook his head slightly, indicating he did not understand what you were saying. You bit your lip a little as you tried to suppress a smile, “When I took a second to think about Josh and me. I realized that…he hadn’t been the person I fell in love with for a long time. He hasn’t been that person for a whole year. That’s the funny thing about love: you’re supposed to love a person as they change. I think I’m still holding onto Josh from a year ago. The Josh from right before I moved in.”

Spencer nodded along silently, trying his hardest to relate. As far as he could tell, Spencer had only been in love once. He never got to the part that you were talking about. He barely got to meet her before she died. When you were still dating Josh, you asked Spencer if there was someone, and he told you a little bit about his someone– his Maeve. His headaches, her intelligence, their romance, and how he lost her just when he was about to have her. 

He remembers how you teared up and how easy it felt to hug you. He wasn’t fond of hugging people when he was upset. He wanted to protect himself from showing too much to most people, but you weren’t most people. You were the first person he could dream about again, making him hope for the maybe. 

But that hope for something more with you didn’t matter much when you were right in front of him, telling him you were holding onto a version of Josh long gone. He didn’t know what to say if he was being honest. Matters of the heart always make him stumble around a little, and he always feels like he says the wrong things. 

You shift in your seat before you say a sweet, “I’m going to okay, really okay.” And Spencer believes you. 

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Five

Spencer helped you move into your new apartment at the beginning of the month. It was ten minutes from your old complex and, according to Spencer, ‘too far away for him to keep an eye on you.’ If you were being honest, you were happy to be alone for the first time since the break-up. 

Spencer was a great friend, the best friend, for letting you crash on his couch for an entire month. You got to see a more intimate version of him, too. You had told him that you’d felt like a burden initially, but by the end, you couldn’t end but feel ashamed of yourself. 

Spencer would come home and try to push you out of the kitchen as you made dinner. If he couldn’t, then he would insist on helping you. He would sit on the couch with you, and if you were interested in something he wasn’t a fan of, he would say, 'This could be the movie that changes my mind.’ He was so sweet, caring, and overwhelmingly supportive that you couldn’t help but develop a soft spot for him. It made you feel sick to think that maybe Josh was right– maybe you did have feelings for Spencer. So, you gave it a few weeks when you moved into your new apartment. 

There was no way Josh was right. You tried to remember all the ways that Spencer Reid was off-limits. He was your best friend. He had seen you sob over Legally Blonde and then critiqued it until you laughed, face raw from tears. He had seen you cry over a burnt roast one stormy evening last week. Even if you did have feelings for Spencer, it was unlikely he reciprocated those feelings. You were too much of a mess. 

Being away from him helped you shove any feelings for him deep into the ridges of your mind and process everything. You didn’t have time to focus on Spencer or men in general. No, you need to focus on yourself for a while. 

You decided to avoid hanging out with Spencer until the ballet in two and a half weeks, and it didn’t seem like a bad idea. You could sort through your emotions to see if they were something real or an intense version of friendship—friendly affection and nothing more. 

With no Spencer, no one to come home to at night, and no one to embarrass yourself to, one thing was evident for the weeks ahead. It was going to be an incredibly dull two and a half weeks. 

Day Two Hundred and Forty-Five

You kept glancing at the clock at work. Friday night, tonight at six. The ballet wasn’t until eight, but Spencer and you had dinner plans. You canceled the reservation that was initially intended for Josh and you and changed it to a restaurant you actually enjoyed. And if you were being honest… you were excited to see Spencer, have a nice dinner, and see Swan Lake. 

It seemed like the perfect evening. After spending the past two and a half weeks mulling over your feelings and what they were toward Spencer. You decided you couldn’t do it. Spencer Reid was untouchable. He was your friend, and pridefully, you couldn’t let Josh’s accusations become true. It felt wrong, dirty. So you decided that no matter your feelings for Spencer, they would ultimately calm down and return to the good-natured platonic feelings they once were– if they were ever platonic, you didn’t know. You were still figuring that part out. 

The second you got home, you dove into your closet. Back in college, you used to joke that every location had a theme, and a part of you still believed that. You were careful when choosing your outfit. Black was a classic, and you had debated it against a different dress in a color that looked good against your skin. Ultimately, the elegant black ruched dress you had hanging up in your closet won. You had better shoes for it anyway. 

The way you were getting ready was a little frantic, accompanied by the fact that Spencer insisted on picking you up since you now lived closer to the restaurant. You were scared you didn’t have enough time. 

Primping and preening would have to be cut in half. Ultimately, you still had ten minutes to get ready before Spencer texted you to let you know he was on his way. Your hair was done in a stylish way that framed your face just right, your skin moisturized and glittering, and your makeup done to be clean and slightly romantic. 

You were pulling on a pair of low pumps when you heard his soft knocking at your door. You glanced at your bedroom door and let out a soft groan of frustration as you struggled with a strap on one of the shoes, “It’s open!” You trip a little as you rush across the room for your bag, so the words come out slightly stumbled. 

Nonetheless, Spencer hears it, and you can hear the front door opening. “You know, even if it is for my benefit, you shouldn’t do that.” You hear him call out from your living room, along with the sound of something rustling. 

You smile and shake your head as you try to pick between a pair of earrings, “But, it was for you. You can walk back out, and I’ll lock it again, just for you.” 

“Alright, I can drive home right now.” 

“And leave me all alone tonight? You wouldn’t dare.” You laugh out as you take one last look at yourself in the mirror and slowly smooth out your dress's fabric. A small voice in your head whispers, “Dates always make me nervous.” You feel your cheeks burn at the idea that this is a date–you remind yourself it isn’t. 

This is just two friends hanging out, platonically. You look at yourself in the mirror as you silently convince yourself that friends hang out all the time. You can hear Sabrina’s voice in your head; after you told her that you were going to the ballet with Spencer, she said, “‘Me and my hot friends always go on platonic dates that definitely won’t lead to anything, ever.’” 

You cringe inwardly at the memory, shaking off your anxieties as you open your bedroom door and step out. The first thing you notice is the bouquet of flowers in his hands—your favorite flowers mixed amongst baby’s breath and eucalyptus leaves. You gasp softly and give him a broad smile, “You got me flowers?” 

Spencer's eyes haven’t met yours yet as they trail down your body. He’s trying not to stare at you like a creep, honest. But it’s near impossible to pull his eyes away from how you look in that dress, his gaze meeting yours, hoping you didn’t catch him staring at you like a hungry dog. 

“Yeah. Yes, I did. I saw them at the store and thought you’d like them.” He’s a lousy liar. 

You smile wide as you take them out of his hands and go into the kitchen to find a vase for them. “Now, why did you just lie?” You call him out with a soft laugh. 

Spencer frowns a little, knowing he can’t give you the real reason. Because I haven’t seen you in two weeks and I didn’t think it was possible to miss someone who was only ten minutes away. Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Because I feel like I can actually think clearly when you’re around. Because you make my mind slow to a steady beat that doesn’t scare me… Because… Because… “Flowers can have a long-term and immediate effect on a person’s mood. Most of the moods associated with flowers are joy, empathy, hope, pride, and love, to name a few. I just wanted to make you,” he pauses as his lips form a tight-lipped smile, “feel the associated emotions.” And it is partially truthful. 

You like that answer enough as you cut the stems shorter, fill the vase with water halfway, and carefully slip the bouquet into the vase. “Well, I do feel happy…” You trace one of the stems with a feather touch. “And, I do feel pretty,” you pause as you sing a little, slightly off-key, “and witty, and–” 

“Please, no. I just got that song out of my head!” Spencer says as his hands fly to his ear dramatically. He can recognize that laugh in a pitch-black room; his smile hurts his cheeks. 

As you rearrange the flowers, you glance at Spencer’s outfit and feel something akin to butterflies in your stomach (maybe just a little lower). His look isn’t far off from his work clothes. The same dark plum tie against his light grape button-up long sleeve. Sometimes, he wears a cardigan with it, but he’s sporting a grey blazer right now. Same slacks, different shoes. Same Spencer, neater hair. 

“Did you get a haircut? It looks…” As you slowly leave the rearranged flowers, you trail off and walk to him, staring up at his hair. “Tame." you finish with a smile. 

Spencer looks down into your eyes and shakes his head slowly, “No, haircut. Just had a stroke of luck.” But he can see your hand coming up to his hair, and he’s too slow to stop you as you ruffle his hair lightly and gasp. 

“Gel!” You squeal as he grabs your right hand by the wrist and pulls it away from his hair. You’re giggling too much to notice how intimate this could look to someone on the outside. “Good luck, my ass.” 

“Apologies for wanting to look good next to you. I’ll never try again.” 

“I like your hair as it is.” You say as he drops your wrist and takes a small step back. “And we always look good together, excuse you.” 

He wants to tell you that it sounds wrong when you say it like that, but he doesn’t want to interrupt that smile on your face, so he just wordlessly nods before checking his watch. 

Before he can get the words out, you quickly grab your bag and say, “Reservation is in twenty. We must make haste!” 

The restaurant wasn’t too far, but you had a thing with time, and you didn’t want to be late for the ballet at eight, so when the hostess said your table was already ready when you and Spencer arrived— a wave of relief washed over your anxious bones. 

It was a fine dinner, with delightful conversation– witty banter and laughs. When Spencer left for the bathroom, you watched him as you happily sipped on your water. You felt a soft tap on your shoulder that caused your head to turn, a pretty woman looking at you with stars in her eyes. 

“You and your boyfriend are so sweet,” 

You felt hot all over, “Oh,” you shake your head a little, “He’s n-” 

“You two bounce off each other so well; I’ve never heard anything like it! Honey,” she looks to her girlfriend across the table, “Have you ever heard two people so good– Don’t give me that look. She thinks I’m nosy, never mind her opinion,” A sharp laugh comes from her girlfriend, “I just hope you know that the two of you are adorable!” 

You smile politely and force yourself not to sink into your chair, “Thank you,” you squeak softly. She nods with a large grin as she turns back to her dinner, and you awkwardly do the same, poking gently at your food with your fork. 

Spencer can see how you’re slumped a little in your chair, breathing heavily, as you slowly shake your head. He can’t help but wonder what happened in the five minutes he was away from the table. He places a soft hand on your forearm as he sits down and whispers, “What’s wrong?” 

Your eyes meet his, and you let the caramel color of his eyes bring you back to reality. “Just a bad memory,” You flash him a fake smile, gently pulling your arm away from his grip. You look down at your meal, then at him, “What’s the time?” 

Spencer’s pulling back his sleeve, his eyes holding your gaze before glancing at the time. “7:18.” 

You nod, taking another sip of your water, “It’s only fifteen away,” Your voice sounds off, and Spencer can feel his brows furrowing at the sound. 

“Did I do someth–”

“No,” you say quickly. Your gaze looks uneased, but your touch on his hand is soft with concern. “No, Spence. I’m just in my head, thinking too many things at once. I’ll be okay.” 

Spencer tries to relax over your words, but he knows something is wrong—something you don’t want to discuss with him. He slowly nods and says gently, “Okay,” And lets it slide. 

For a second, there is a beat of palatable silence, and Spencer can feel his skin itch due to the lack of sound at the table. He didn’t mind comfortable silences in rooms with you, but this was hardly comfortable. So he did the best thing he knew how to do, “You know,” your eyes land on his, “Ballet originated during the Italian Renaissance, the fifteenth century actually. However, it wasn’t until the sixteenth century that it was brought to France by Catherine de Medici.” 

You mouthed a soft ‘oh,’ Spencer continued before you could say more. “She showed the first ‘meal fork’ in court too!” Spencer said with a nod, taking his fork in hand and making an excited face at you. 

You smile wide at that and laugh openly at him, “Are you trying to cheer me up by talking about a dead Queen of France right now?” 

“That depends, is it working?” 

You shrug a little, playful and dismissive, “I haven’t decided yet.” 

Spencer liked his lips, and he stared at you for a second, “Catherine De Medici was notoriously Catholic and played a center role in the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre, which was a ploy to wipe out Hugo-” 

“Are we ready for the check?” The waiter’s voice interrupted Spencer’s mini-rant. A slight frown appeared on your face as you looked at your almost-finished food and gave the waiter a slight nod.

When he walked away to grab the check, your hands reached for your purse, “Hey! Put the card down.” Spencer snipped at you as he smacked your card with his own, earning a chuckle from you. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to pay, Spencer. It’s an expensive me-” 

“View it as a thank you for all the meals you ma-” 

“I’m the one who invited you out-” 

The waiter now stood at the edge of the table as he nervously set down the check, and your hand flew to it. Spencer’s hand is faster than yours as he grabs the check, slides his card in it without glancing at the cost, and hands it back to the waiter. When his gaze met yours again, you’re frowning at him—a playful kind of frown, but a frown. “What?” His voice cracks softly. 

“Curse you and your long, attractive fingers, Dr. Reid. I could have paid. I was happy too, you know?” 

“I know, I know, but I just couldn’t help but think about how kind you’ve been to me, and I– you think my fingers are attractive?” 

Your cheeks flush a little, suck in a breath, and shake your head. “I think you’re imagining things, Spencer. I said ‘hyperactive’.” 

He raises an eyebrow as you try to gaslight someone with an eidetic memory, but when he thought about teasing you further, all he could think about was your sad, distant face just moments ago. So, he decides that maybe he should keep his mouth shut– this time. “Hyperactive it is.” 

You know he’s being nice; he definitely heard you say his hands were attractive. But he’s a saint. He let you crash on his couch for a month and never expected any money out of it. He let you cry on his shoulder and monopolize his television—not to mention his free time. He was so compassionate and kind that he made it hard for you to deny the fluttering feeling in your chest as you look at him in the restaurant's dim light. “Thank you,” 

“Happy to do it,” His voice is soft as the waiter slowly returns with his card, but his eyes are glued to your face. The look in your eyes can only be described as appetency… no, tenderness, or maybe endearment. All he knows is that you’re looking around the restaurant with eyes shining with sweet and loving emotion, barely meeting his. 

The drive to the theatre wasn’t too long, and the two of you had managed to get a nice parking spot, considering the traffic. The seats were in the lower mezzanine section, a selection that was mostly for you when you originally booked it. You could still hear Josh’s voice as he questioned why you weren’t going for the closer, more intimate orchestra section. You liked seeing the dancers, yes, but you loved the stage work too. In your opinion, the view of all the dancers on stage, with the props complimenting their movements, made the show more enjoyable. 

You glance over nervously at Spencer as he sits down next to you. You shift in your seat a little as you whisper. “I’m sorry the seats aren’t closer. I like seeing the whole stage.” You motion to the stage with your hand. 

Spencer smiles and shakes his head before tilting his head a little lower to whisper back, “The seats are perfect.” Then he’s taking your hand in his and giving it a little squeeze, and you think you might explode. 

You feel a little nauseous, a twisting feeling slowly forming into a giddy excitement in your stomach. The theater's lights start to dim, but Spencer doesn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he maneuvers your hand to the armrest between the two of you and gently lays his palm upon the back of yours. 

You struggle for a second as you move your head to look at the stage. Your eyes are glued to the stage now, watching intently as the Prologue begins. 

The tension is almost forgotten about halfway through the pas de trois, but you can feel his breath softly against your ear before he even speaks, “Most ballet companies in America follow the 1895 revival. The choreographer’s, Marius Petipa, pas de trois remains nearly unchanged in most Swan Lake productions today.” 

You glance at him to see that his face is closer to yours than you’d like it to be, but you give him a soft sound of interest as your heart thumps in your chest. He seems grateful for the sound as he leans away from you, his eyes lingering on yours, and he reluctantly turns his gaze back to the stage. 

Slowly, you follow suit, replicating his movements, but not before you find your eyes dipping down to his hand on your still. You smile softly as you watch one ballerina get lifted off the ground for a second. 

During the first intermission between Acts, you told Spencer you wanted to get some fresh air. You felt hot all over during the scene of Odette’s reveal as Spencer went from placing his palm on top of yours to gently lacing his fingers through yours. When the first intermission started, you decided you needed to get outside and breathe. 

And it hit you. 

When you were with Josh for the last few months, you would feel an itch to get away, to run a floor down. When he missed the point of a joke, you’d make a mental note to repeat it to Spencer later. All the dates should have been with Josh: the foreign movies, the painting, poetry readings, this ballet. You felt a twisting in your gut as you realized that Josh was right. You had stopped wanting him a long time ago. You stopped seeking him out in a crowd. Instead, your eyes had started looking for a tall brunette with the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. Spencer was suddenly the person you thought about when you heard a lovely song, saw something interesting at the store, or had a bad day— not Josh. 

When did that happen? You felt like crying, breathing hard against the theater's outside wall. You felt thousands of questions racing through your mind, but one reverberated loudly: Does Spencer know?

You felt your mouth turn to cotton at the idea of Spencer Reid knowing you’re helplessly in love with him. Oh my god, you’re in love with Spencer Reid. 

When did you stop loving Josh? Did you stop loving him the second you ran up to Spencer in the apartment’s parking lot? Maybe it was when he saw that your shoelace was untied one rare late-night walk in the park together, and he stooped down to tie it for you? Or when he annotated Jane Austen’s Persuasion as a random ‘just because’ gift? When did your love for Josh stop and your love for Spencer begin? The answer didn’t matter much now because now you know. 

You’re in love with Spencer Reid, but he can’t know.

It was too risky a move. He was your friend above all else. Then, there was the matter of your pride and dignity. Josh was right, and you didn’t want him to be. You had unintentionally destroyed a two-year relationship; how could you let yourself be happy after that? How could you be happy after broken promises of marriage, growing old together? 

The lights flickered to signify the end of the intermission, and you slipped back into the theatre with a calm smile. Your cheeks were red when you caught sight of him again, and there he was, reading the program. As you got closer, it was like he could feel you in the air. His head lifted toward your direction, and his eyes met yours instantaneously. But how could you not love those eyes? Honey-filled irises that crinkled around the edges when he smiled. Wild, wavy, brown hair that curled around the edges of his face. You feel like crying again. 

He could tell. His expression shifted to concern as you took your seat next to him, “Everything alright?” His voice was barely a whisper. 

Forcing a smile, you nod and gently whisper, “Allergies,” as your weak excuse. 

Nonetheless, it worked for Spencer as he gave you a nod. At least he let you think it worked. His eyes drifted over to you occasionally as the next act started. Sometimes, his eyes would meet yours, and he would give you a sweet smile before staring intensely at the stage. 

He was sure he had done something wrong. He was sure it was how he held your hand during the previous act. He knew he shouldn't have pushed that boundary, but when you didn’t move your hand away from him the whole act, he felt ecstatic— shamelessly so.

Spencer tried to keep his hand busy when you left during intermission. He wanted to trace his thumb against your knuckles, feel the size of your palm against his, and know the lines of your palm forevermore. He was being selfish. So, the paper program was the best way for him to pass the time. 

But these feelings for you that he had just kept getting in the way. When you moved to your new apartment, he knew you were avoiding him. The why was the part Spencer couldn’t figure out. He wondered what he could have done wrong so often that he was sure he would grovel at your feet the next time he saw you. Then he saw you tonight, and he couldn’t understand why he ever let you leave his apartment in the first place. 

When he saw you step out of your bedroom, his heart sank, and he knew. He knew he couldn’t intellectualize these feelings away– couldn’t deny them any longer. His hands yearned to touch you like they yearned to turn the page of a good book. His eyes searched for you in every crowd. He thought of roaming through stores near your apartment, hoping he might run into you, though he talked himself out of it multiple times. You were the only thing on his mind these days. Last week, when the team was in Detroit, he saw someone who looked like you and almost grabbed their hand in the middle of the precinct. 

Spencer's eyes drifted to you again near the end of the second to last act. Two intermissions, almost three acts and you still seemed off. You still gave him a sweet smile and let him whisper little facts to you here and there, but you didn’t seem like yourself. It seemed like you were hiding something from him. 

During the last act, he was practically lost in thought as he watched the dramatic scenes of Swan Lake play out in front of him. He was sure his eyebrows were pinched together as his fingers rubbed circles on the armrest, eyes darting around the stage with the Swan Queen’s movements. 

That was until the final scene. Every ballet company was different, but this one decided they liked a tragic ending better. As Odette begins to throw herself into the lake, he feels your hands grab his. Spencer jumps at the feeling, his eyes darting over to you with a concerned expression, but you’re staring straight at the stage. 

Your hand held onto his tight as the lovers killed themselves, and you were tearing up. He couldn’t look away; you were so enraptured. Spencer felt guilty for not being as enthralled as you had been all night. He was so busy silently panicking over what was different with you that he forgot to be in the moment with you. He squeezes your hand gently as the music hits its crescendo. He could feel the music taking hold of him, grabbing him just as tight as you had moments prior. It wasn’t just Siegfried following Odette off a ledge. Spencer felt he would, too, if you asked him. Was this the caress of love?

He had to force himself to watch the stage as the lovers reunited in the afterlife, and then you’re letting go of his hand and clapping with a brilliant smile on your face. He claps, too, but he’s only looking at you– throwing silent praises to you. 

When the rows start to clear out, you feel better. The performance successfully gets your mind off your worries concerning Spencer, and as the two of you walk to his car, you’re linking your arm with him. “Can I share a fun fact?” 

You can feel the soft shake of Spencer’s diaphragm against your forearm as he chuckles, “When have I ever turned that down?” 

You shrug a little in response to his rhetorical question, “When Soviet leaders died in the eighties, the government would play recorded performances of Swan Lake on television broadcasts, unintentionally making the public associate the ballet with the deaths of their leaders and political instability.” You give him a silly little face of mock surprise at the end of it, and he’s laughing. 

Spencer leans closer to you under the parking lot street lamps, his car coming into view. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

You frown as you pull away slightly to look up at him, your feet slowing slightly, “You already knew that?” 

Spencer lets out a faux sigh of disappointment as he gives you a solemn nod of confirmation. You shake your head in disbelief as you let go of his arm and walk toward the passenger seat. Spencer follows you, intending to open your door for you, but you don’t seem to notice how close he is as you pull on the locked car door. “Move for me,” When Spencer says it, you feel your legs unintentionally becoming jelly at the tone of his voice: soft, deep, and cracking slightly. 

You step aside for him as he unlocks his car and opens the door for you. You give him an affectionate grin as you slide into the passenger seat and watch Spencer round the front of his car to the driver’s side. You had to give him credit where credit was due; Spencer Reid could be damn charming when he wanted to be. 

On the ride home, he continues with his persistent pursuit of unconscious charm, “Maybe we should go see Sleeping Beauty, or maybe Coppéila if you want to watch something comical?” 

You giggle softly at his suggestions as you give him a skeptical glance to the side, “I didn’t know you liked ballet so much,” 

Spencer’s cheeks feel hot, “I don’t,” he admits in a raw voice. 

You turn your head to stare at him with a gentle expression as Spencer’s hands tighten around the wheel, knuckles turning white. You observe him carefully as his bottom lip is nervously drawn into his mouth for a second, his eyes flickering over to you as he flashes you a meek smile. It feels like a sick joke, Spencer being in love with you. It was exhilarating, euphoric, excruciating, and unbearable all at once. You had already made the self-declaration that you would keep your feelings to yourself and decided that you couldn’t let yourself be happy with Spencer– not after what you had done to Josh. The guilt ate away at you as you stared at him, a lame ‘oh’ falling from your lips as you swallowed hard. 

“I just,” he began, “I mean–” he sighs out with frustration, “I just like going places with you.” He settles as he glances from the road to you, his grip on the wheel relaxing. You smile and nod in agreement. 

“Me too,” you whisper, and the conversation dies off for a second. 

Spencer rectifies the situation the only way he knows how "Coppélia was actually based on a dark fantasy about a man’s disastrous infatuation with a life-like doll called Der Sandmann, quite literally translated as The Sandman, by E.T.A Hoffman.” 

“Oh, so Pygmalion and Galatea.” 

“Yes! And Pinocchio, Frankenstein, Herbert West-Reanimator, My Fair Lady-” 

You hold up a hand, “Wait, My Fair Lady?” You question with delighted interest. 

“The play it was based on is called Pygmalion. Henry Higgins shapes Eliza Doolittle into a lady, and he falls in love with her.” 

The way Spencer says it sounds so direct, never demeaning or snobbish, you nod a little at the connection. “You ever listen to My Fair Lady?” 

Spencer opens his mouth to affirm that he has, but he falters. It seems like something his mother would have liked him to listen to with her, but they never have. “No,” his voice was quiet. 

You gasp and point over to him teasingly, “Uncultured,” 

“It’s one thing! I’m plenty cultured! The play Pygmalion covers-” 

“I know, but you haven’t heard of Julie Andrews!” 

“I have! Penelope made me watch all of The Sound of Music-” He’s cut off by the sound of you giggling softly in the passenger seat. “You’re messing with me.” 

“Just a little,” You snicker beside him, relaxing as you watch Spencer take the familiar turns toward your apartment. You stare at the passing streets as you let out a content sigh, eyes closing slowly. Silently reflecting on the night, pushing mini-panic attacks aside, it’s the first time you’ve felt so serene in a long time. “Thank you for tonight, Spence.” 

He beams at your thanks and mutters a sweet, “Thank you for allowing me to take you out,” 

You roll your head against the seat as he pulls into a spot, “As if I’d ever say no to you.” You whisper back to him, catching a love-struck look from him that has you sitting up straight, grabbing your bag, and opening your car door. 

You shouldn’t be surprised when Spencer gets out of his car and locks it. “Let me walk you up,” he insists gently. 

“I’m okay-” 

“Please,” His words are accompanied by his hazel eyes, both begging you so sweetly that you find yourself nodding wordlessly. 

This time, the silence sticks as Spencer walks by your side to your apartment complex. It’s a short walk from the parking lot to the second floor, and soon, the two of you stand outside apartment 240. You fidget with your keys slowly as you turn around to face him; you watch him awkwardly shuffle on his feet– seemingly unsure of what to do with himself, you were sure. 

“Well, this is me.” You feel stupid saying it, but you can’t stop yourself. You knew this wasn’t a date, so why does it feel like the end of one? 

Spencer licks his lips nervously and softly says, “Yeah, it is.” 

You give him a faint smile but can’t find the strength to step back from him and open your door. You should get inside. A voice in you is screaming Go inside! Don’t you dare! But you don’t seem to listen as you tilt your head to the side. “I had a great time,” 

Spencer grins and nods, his eyes looking at your door for a second before gazing back into yours. “Any notable moments?” 

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. “Holding your hand through the first act was lovely,” Fuck you!

Spencer seems to perk up slightly, his heart beating faster as he takes a small step closer to you. “It was lovely?” He questions you carefully, noticing how your pupils dilate a little under his gaze. 

“I thought so. It was very” You swallow as you search for some smidgen of confidence “Charming. You’ve been charming all night, actually.” 

“I think you’re the only person in the world who thinks that,” He teases softly, a twinkle in his hazel eyes as he takes another step closer. 

You shake your head, a giddy grin spreading on your face. “No, a lady at the restaurant thought we made a pretty charming couple.” 

“Ah,” He holds up two fingers, “So two people.” 

You give him a sweet chuckle and hold two fingers with him. “And your mom, maybe, " you say as you hold up three fingers. 

“I should make a list,” 

“Your favorite hobby.” You say in a joking whisper. His body was close enough to touch now, and you were frozen– stuck between wanting to get inside and wanting to touch him in any way he’d let you. Your eyes kept trekking down to his feet, watching as they took careful steps closer before looking up at his eyes again. And for the first time all night, you let them dip down to his lips. 

Spencer feels his breath catch in his throat, his body already hyper-aware of your presence. He’s silently debating over closing the gap between the two of you, and he fears that seeing that– a physical sign that you want him the way he wants you, confirms that he should. Only, there's the matter of how. He wants to be romantic and bold. He just wants to grab your waist and pull you in, but he can’t. 

It’s you that initiates something, “The longest kiss ever recorded was fifty-eight hours,” 

Spencer feels like laughing, and he does—a small chuckle escapes his lips as he finds the courage to reach for your waist. When his fingers wrap around it, he gently pulls you toward him, his chest bumping against yours for a second. “Let’s not compete with that,” He whispers to you gently as one of his hands cups the side of your face, his nose bumping against yours slightly as you smile wide. The witty comeback that attempts to leave your lips doesn’t stand a chance as Spencer’s lips capture yours. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you lean up to get a better angle in the kiss. His lips are soft and smooth as they press against yours. He pulls away a little, but you reconnect your lips quickly. Spencer slowly presses into you, the hand on your waist pressing down in a way that sends electricity up your spine. 

Your hands reach for his tie, pulling him closer with a soft motion. The kiss deepens at that. A shaky breath can be heard from Spencer as he moves the hand that was cupping your cheek to the nape of your neck, his fingertips grazing your hair. 

You let out a soft hum as you pull at his bottom lip, pulling away momentarily just to kiss him again. Your breathing gets slightly heavier as you tentatively trace your tongue against his bottom lip. As Spencer slowly invites your tongue into his mouth, a door slams shut down the hall, and you pull away. 

Your eyes open as your hands leave Spencer’s tie and fly to your lips. You stutter gently as Spencer slowly pulls his hands away from you, his chest rising and falling heavily as he whispers, “Did I-”

You shake your head before he can finish, and you remember the keys still in your hand, holding them up, “No, I-” You stutter over your words gently as you turn to unlock the door, “I- I have to, I can’t,” you manage a shaky sigh, glancing over your shoulder at him, “Goodnight.” 

Spencer watches your eyes look away from his, slipping into your apartment before he can get a word in. He stares at the numbers on your door for a second, feeling a dreadful pit forming in his stomach. “Goodnight.” His voice is timid as he speaks to the closed door and turns, walking back to his car alone. 

Day Two Hundred and Fifty

Spencer has been out of it all week. He isn’t sleeping much or reading as much, and now, he’s lagging with this geographical profile. He excelled in this area, and he needed to focus on it. He needed to stop worrying about why you haven’t returned his calls all week—well, for the past four days, thirty-seven minutes—Focus!

He sighed as he traced a street with his fingers, a marker in the other, and focused on the previous dump sights. He mutters quietly as he outlines a district on the map, leaning back slightly as he lets himself get lost in his work. This feels good—almost calming. 

JJ touches his arm, indicating that she is talking to him, and he hasn’t heard a single word. “I’m sorry,” He sighs as he looks at her.

JJ shakes her head a little, a silent way of letting him know that she doesn’t take offense. “Rossi and Morgan just found another victim.” Her fingers point to a location inside the outlined area on the map, and Spencer makes a note. If he can focus on this case, he feels they might have a profile before the UnSub’s next kill. 

Day Two Hundred and Fifty-Nine 

It had been two weeks since Spencer last saw you. Since you last spoke to him, touched him, or kissed him. He felt like he was losing one of his best friends and someone who could be the love of his life all at once. It was devastating. He had occasionally been short with the team, always quick with his apology and briefly explaining that he was going through something personal.

He didn’t want to be this tall, awkward ball of misery. He hated this feeling. At the moment, fourteen days ago, you seemed to be happy to kiss him. It seemed like the fatal mistake that was killing his relationship with you. He had tried to keep his calls maxed out one a day, three a week. Instead, he called you seven times in two weeks. He was starting to feel desperate as he listened to your voicemail message for the seventh time. He sighed as he looked around the BAU break room. 

“Hey, uh, it’s me. I was just wondering if you wanted to talk… again.” He repeated parts of his last message as he groaned softly before whispering a gentle “I’m really sorry” into the phone. He hangs up in a hurry, seeing Derek rounding the corner. 

His phone clatters on the table as Derek gives Spencer an odd stare. It’s a stare that says, ‘To-talk-to-pretty-boy-to-not-talk-to-pretty-boy-that-is-the-question.’

Derek decides that he should talk to Pretty Boy after all. “Does the boy genius have any plans for the weekend?” He decides that casual conversation might be the best way to get Spencer to open up. 

Spencer shakes his head, dragging his gaze from Derek back to his phone on the table. Derek lets out a hum as he stares at Spencer’s phone. “Waiting on a call from someone?” 

“No, yes, I-” Spencer sighs as he slumps a little in the chair, “I don’t know.”

“Is that what’s been bugging you for the past two weeks? Expecting an important call?” Derek asks as he fills his coffee mug up. Spencer gives him a little annoyed look that slowly melts into one of uncertainty. “Reid,” Derek says his name with a grin, taking the seat across from Spencer. “JJ caught you mumbling something about some ballet two weeks ago in Seattle, and you got defensive when she asked why you were talking about the ballet. Then, when Hotch asked you what was happening in Tampa, you got defensive again.” 

He stares at Spencer with a kind smile, “If you need to get something off your chest, I’m happy to listen.” 

Spencer finds himself chewing on his bottom lip as he slowly nods, “I know. I’ve been avoiding talking about it with the team because I,” he pauses, looking at Derek. “I think I messed up.” It’s the best he can manage. He doesn’t feel like opening up when he knows he should, and he wants to be patient with his feelings. He wanted you to reach out on your own time, but he didn’t want to keep with this silent torture he kept experiencing day after day. 

Derek gave him a slightly concerned look, “Messed up how? Something with a case or worse?” Spencer stares at him for a second as he tries to read between the lines of Derek’s question. Once it comes to him, he quickly shakes his head ‘no,’ which makes Derek smile. “Is it..” He trails off for a second, his eyes trailing to Spencer’s phone on the table, and it clicks, “No…” 

Spencer feels his cheeks flush as he frowns at Derek’s Cheshire grin. He’s ready for some mandatory teasing when he hears JJ’s voice, “No, what?” She questions Derek with interest as she grabs a bottle of water. 

Spencer desperately shakes his head at Derek, but he’s already spilling what he thinks he knows, “I believe that Mr. Pretty Boy has found a Pretty Girl.” 

JJ releases an excited gasp and walks over to the table. “No way,” She mutters as she stares down at Spencer’s slightly red face, “Is this why you’ve been so weird lately? Trouble in paradise?” 

“It’s not like that,” Spencer retorts softly as he pulls at a loose thread on his button-up. 

“How’d you mess up?” Derek cuts to the chase as he takes a sip of his coffee. 

Spencer looks between JJ and Derek as he struggles to find the right words. His problems surrounding romance are sparse and, previously, tragic. He’s not sure how to go about this. “I, Uhm, might have kissed her.” 

“Kissed who?” JJ presses. 

Spencer looks at Derek, “Do you remember that friend of mine? The one Penelope and you met-” 

“In the bar, yeah. I thought she had a boyfriend?” Derek’s brows furrow. 

Spencer scrunches up his nose a little at the mention of Josh and sighs, “They broke up, and she had plans to see Swan Lake with him two weeks ago as an early anniversary date. She was going to cancel, but I offered to go with her so she didn’t miss out on it.” He continued slowly, looking at both of their faces for some show of emotion. “And at the end of the night, we kissed.” 

Derek sighs, glancing at JJ, who seems to be just as confused as he is. “Kid, that’s a great thing. How is that a mess up?” 

“I don’t know,” Spencer groans, “It all happened so fast, and she looked… perturbed. I think I messed up, and I’ve been trying to get a hold of her ever since, but..” His eyes look at his phone. 

“Maybe she wasn’t ready for it,” JJ offers with a sad smile. 

Derek nods, pointing a little at JJ, “Could be, but you should have seen her with him. All smiles and heart eyes for Reid.” 

Spencer frowns at Derek before looking at JJ pleadingly, “What do I do to fix it?” 

JJ winces a little, twisting her lips, “Spence, it's not something you can control.” 

“I know, I just can’t,” Spencer pauses for a second, looking away. “I thought she wanted to kiss me.” 

Derek laughs a little, earring a slight glare from JJ before he holds up his hands. “Okay, describe it for us.” 

Spencer snaps his head toward Derek. “What?” His voice sounds slightly higher than usual. “No.” 

Derek rolls his eyes. “Just the lead-up,” he explains further, moving his fingers in a circle through the air. 

“No,” Spencer insists again. 

JJ joins this time, “Maybe he’s onto something, come on.” 

Spencer hesitates as he considers it, ultimately deciding it’s worth a shot despite being humiliated. “I walked her up to her door,” JJ nods along, silently giving Spencer some points for being a gentleman in her books. “She said she had a great time, so I asked if any notable moments in the evening stood out to her.” 

Spencer didn’t want to say that he had held your hand through the first act of Swan Lake, but “She said that holding my hand through the first act was lovely.” Derek’s eyebrows raise at that, not expecting something like that from Spencer. 

“And she said I was charming. We briefly joked back and forth, and then it got quiet.” Spencer avoids eye contact, staring holes into the table beneath his fidgeting hands. 

After a beat of silence, JJ whispers, “And then?” 

“She said,” he smiles a little, his eyes still downcast. “That, well, the longest kiss ever recorded was fifty-eight hours long.” 

“Not what you said, what she said.” Derek jokes softly, Spencer’s eyes flicking up to him with a confused gaze. 

“That is what she said,” 

“Oh my god,” JJ covers her lips feebly to hide her smile. 

Spencer can feel the heat reaching the tips of his ears as Derek laughs. “She did!” Spencer whines. He rolls his eyes a little as the laughter continues. “I said that we shouldn’t compete with that, and we kissed. Happy?” 

JJ smiles openly now and nods, her hands moving as she talks. “I think that’s promising.” Spencer sends her a glare, thinking that she is joking at first, but after seeing the earnest look on JJ’s face, he calms down. “Maybe she’s just surprised,” JJ suggests with a convinced nod. 

“It doesn’t make sense, though. Why be so forward with wanting to kiss you just to ignore you after?” Derek's eyes narrow. 

JJ scoffs softly, “She’s scared of her own feelings, Derek.” 

Spencer repeats his question from earlier now, “So what can I do to fix it?” 

Derek and JJ are quiet for a second before JJ says, “We should talk to Penelope.” 

Spencer wasn’t exactly thrilled as two of his closest friends dragged him down the halls to Penelope’s office. Nor was he thrilled to repeat what he had said in the breakroom to JJ and Derek a second time. Now he’s stuck in an office chair with three of his closest friends throwing suggestions on what he should do on the clock when they should all be doing paperwork. 

“Send her a gift basket!” 

“I’m not trying to bribe her into being my girlfriend, Penelope.” 

Penelope coos softly, “You want her to be your girlfriend?” 

Spencer lets his head fall into his hands, leaving her question unanswered as JJ jumps onto the suggestion train. “Write her a love letter.” 

Derek lets out a breathy chuckle, “Just go to her apartment,” 

Penelope squeals in agreement, “Yes! A big declaration of love.” 

Spencer was sure that big declarations of love weren’t his thing, and he thought he fell into the range of quiet love. Whispers of adoration? Maybe. Annotated novels? Absolutely. Watching movies out of his comfort zone? Done. Acting out of his comfort zone? He could hardly imagine holding a boombox over his head and screaming your name. But he was running out of options. He had stuck in his comfort zone, and you were ignoring him. “How big of a declaration?” 

It was late. There was so much to do. You were pacing back and forth in your apartment with a book in hand, fingers thumbing at the pages occasionally. Soft music played from your laptop speakers as you ended the second week of ignoring one, Doctor Spencer Reid. 

You had listened to all of his voicemails, some multiple times, but had managed to resist the urge to call him back for two weeks. When your heart got the best of you, you did what you were doing now–listening to variations of dad rock, pop, indie, oldies, classical, anything to drown out the urge to call him back. 

The books were a new addition, as you had given up on making online private playlists last Sunday. 

After holding a conference call with Molly, Sabrina, Christina, and anyone else who would listen, you made a joint decision to keep your feelings to yourself. And by joint decision, you meant ignoring their advice. Sabrina brought up the point that if Josh could physically cheat on you and be happy, you could be happy, too. The rest of your friends agreed in one form or another with that, but you just… couldn’t. You were terrified. 

Josh had left his mark on you. He had cut deep gashes in your self-esteem. In the moments where you weren’t struggling with thinking you were too much, burdensome, or taxing to those you love, you were fretting over the idea that you were a terrible person. Sometimes, in moments of respite, you would reminisce on your time spent with Spencer. 

You wanted to know his opinion, and in another life, you would seek him out and ask for it—the phantom pains of past love gone wrong ghosted over your heart and cursed you. 

Maybe you could be happy with someone else who wasn’t Spencer. Is there anyone dead or alive as good as Spencer Reid? Your thumbs falter on the edge of the page as the thought crosses your mind, your eyes glancing over at the time. 

Setting your book face down on your coffee table, you glide across the room to the lights– you can read and ignore Spencer in bed. As you switch off the kitchen light, a soft knock on your door startles you. Tilting your head around the wall to stare at your front door skeptically, you wait for another knock. 

Two more knocks make you rush to your front door, leaning in to look into the peephole. Your breath catches your throat as you see Spencer Reid rocking back and forth on his heels on the other side. “Go away, Spencer!” You yell through the door, hand holding the locked doorknob cautiously. 

You watch as his face falls into a heartbreaking expression, “Let me just talk to you,” 

“We have nothing to talk about.” 

“Please,” His eyes travel up to the peephole, his eyes somehow managing to make you breathless through the door. “I miss my best friend.” 

You don’t say anything to that, because you miss him too. You watch him silently. His maroon tie against that white button-up reminds you of how you grabbed him two weeks ago– hungry, desperate, starved. 

His eyes cast down to his hands for a second, his mouth opening and closing multiple times until he manages to get out, “Do you remember the first day we met? I helped you carry your groceries, and you asked me if I believed in fate.” His voice sounds shaky and muffled as your fingers play with the lock silently. 

“I told you I don’t, I still don’t.” He stammers softly, a hand combing through his curls roughly. You give up on watching him through the peephole, listening with your forehead pressed against the door. 

After a few seconds of fumbling with his words, he steadies himself. “What I’m trying to say is,” he stares at the door, scared to death you aren’t listening. He gingerly continues, “I don’t care if you need me to believe in fate, love at first sight, soulmates, or predetermined endings– if you need me to, I will.” His legs feel weak at the knees, “If Zeus split my soul in two, please be the other half. If there is a god, if someone created me for anyone, let it be you. If it was fate for me to meet you two-hundred and fifty-nine days ago, let it be fate. If it means I get to love you, I’ll believe in any theology, ideology, or philosophy you need me to.” 

He couldn’t hear anything on the other side of the door. “If you don’t want me, or if you don’t feel the same, I’ll never bring it up again. I’ll go back to being nothing more than your friend, no questions asked, and I’ll be happy to do it.” His chest rises and falls heavily as he finishes, staring holes at your door. He’s sure you’ll ignore him further, make him walk back to his car alone again, or worse, open the door and laugh at his confession. He feels all of his anxieties rising in his throat as he goes to say something else when he hears the rattle of the chain on your door. 

A few more clicks, and the door is swinging open. Spencer sucks in a breath as he catches the sight of you in your pajamas, staring at him a little tongue-tied. How were you supposed to follow that? You stare up at him in silent awe as deep, honeyed eyes meet yours for the first time in weeks. As you stare into his eyes, you realize he meant every word. 

Your eyes fall from his and take the rest of him in, looking from his head to his shoes and back up again. “How many times did you practice that on the way here?” 

“Three,” 

You crack a slow smile at that and nod slowly, not knowing what to say next. You do the only thing you can think of, act. Your left hand reaches up slowly, your feet moving in tandem as you hook your fingers in Spencer’s collar carefully. Your gaze locks on his as you slowly pull him closer to your height, pulling him inches from your face. You wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to believe in anything you, he didn’t need fate or soulmates, none of it mattered anymore, not with him right here in front of you. You focus on how his nose brushes awkwardly against yours for a second and how you can hear his breathing coming out quicker. 

You close your eyes before kissing him, pressing your lips to his softly, timidly. Despite his confession– his begging– you can’t help but feel like it’s all too good to be true. But then, he’s kissing you back. His lips move against yours with the same nervousness, his hands reaching up to cup your face. 

You smile into the kiss as you feel his large palms on your face, making Spencer pull away with a slightly concerned expression for a second, wondering if he’d done something to make you laugh at him. As he stares at your blissful smile, he quickly realizes that you aren’t laughing at him at all. You’re happy, effervescent even, shaking your head at him pulling away. 

He doesn’t make you wait long as he kisses you again, this time with a slight increase in force. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine as he hears the way you hum into the kiss, the sound making him feel desperate to hear more. 

The two of you stand in your doorway like that for a second, kisses getting deeper and feverish as you pull Spencer to walk with you into your apartment blind. You stumble for a second as you walk backward into your apartment, your lips still locked with his. He pulls away a little at that, tilting your head up with his hands on your cheeks as his thumbs gently rub a single circle against the soft skin. 

“Are you real?” He whispers, inches away from your face. 

You give him a breathless laugh and nod, hands moving to his wrist, your fingers gently tracing the veins on his wrists absentmindedly. Spencer’s foot searches for the edge of the door to kick it closed, but he slips a little and looks at you with soft, doe eyes of apology. 

Pulling away from him carefully, you shut your front door and lock it. You don’t know where to go from here. You hadn’t thought about what you’d do once you had him inside. Music is still playing on your phone, and you can hear a soft, raspy chuckle behind you as Spencer playfully asks. “Is this Brahms?” 

When did this even come on? You sigh as you walk over to your phone to turn the music off, “I missed you too, you know.” You admit into the silent room, your eyes avoiding his. 

“I know,” He replies, and you can hear his footsteps getting closer. Your gaze stays fixed on the floor, looking up in surprise at the feeling of his hands grabbing your waist tentatively. Turning your body to look up, you give him a nervous smile. Spencer’s nerves are shot all over the place as he swallows down his anxieties. “I don’t mind waiting. If you aren’t ready or need more time, I’ve waited for you so long, what’s-” 

“No,” Your voice comes out louder than intended before you clear your throat. “No, I don’t need more time. I’m tired of not forgiving myself. I deserve to be happy, too. I’ve already spent so much time denying myself that.” Your body relaxes in his hands, your chest squeezing pleasantly as you move to be chest to chest with him again. “No more wasting time.” 

Spencer studies your eyes as you speak, searching for some hint of uncertainty, but finds none. He licks his lips nervously, eyes dipping to your lips quickly, “Did you know that men initiate more than seventy percent of kisses?” 

Taking this as an obvious sign that Spencer wants to kiss you again, you move your hands to rest on his shoulders. “Don’t have the exact number?”

“Seventy-nine point seventeen percent.” His voice raises an octave at the feeling of your hands holding onto his shoulders, your body pressing against his gently. 

You nod, half-listening, as you look at his lips, one of your hands sliding up the front of his neck as you hold his chin. The feather-like touch of your thumb on his bottom lip makes him feel dizzy as you whisper, “That’s nice.” 

Spencer’s lips are parted slightly as he gives you a weak-sounding ‘uh-huh’ as he participates in a statistic, gently brushing your thumb away to kiss you again. 

The start of this kiss isn’t nearly as tentative or timid as the last one. His head tilts to the side as he presses his lips against yours, a little needy now as your hands move to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. His eyebrows raise in surprise at the feeling, how you so readily deepen the kiss, how intense this feels. 

Your movements sync with Spencer’s as you kiss each other with fervor. Your knees feel a little weak from a mix of anxiety, excitement, and arousal. The feeling makes your hands hold the back of Spencer’s neck tighter. Your body flush against his as the two of you kiss in the middle of your living room. 

An experimental movement from Spencer earns a sharp inhale from you as his tongue slowly brushes against your bottom lip. Your lips part into the kiss as he slides his tongue into the kiss with surprising skill. It doesn’t feel messy; instead, it’s incredibly controlled. You silently wonder how much practice Spencer has with French kissing and with who? 

The thought is secondary to a terrifyingly primal feeling of arousal that zips up and across your spine as you feel him start to suck your tongue lightly into his mouth. You press against him a little harder, causing the poor man to stumble and lose focus, his skilled lips stopping for a second—a slight pull away to check if you’re alright before he kisses you again. 

Now it's messy—an excellent messy. Not a slobbering mess that you want to pull away from, but a slightly erratic move against your lips that lets you know that he’s just as hungry for you as you are for him. 

Your feet stumble backward, the familiar route to your bedroom in the back of your mind as you try to pull Spencer with you. He follows but reluctantly pulls away, breathless, as he stops short of the doorway to your bedroom. His lips open and close nervously as he catches his breath. “It's not that I don’t, I want to, not that I’m expecting us, I just,” He closes his mouth, swallowing hard as he tries to make head or tails of the situation. “I don’t want you to think I’m only here for…” He trails off, his cheeks growing red as he flicks his hazel eyes over to your bedroom and then back to you. “Sex.” 

It’s terrible because you want to laugh. Spencer has been nervous around you before, but never like this. You’d seen him trip over his words countless times, but this time, watching him explain his intentions toward you, how sweet he looked as he explained himself. How did you go this long in your friendship with him without jumping his bones?

You press a reassuring hand to his arm, “I didn’t think you were.” You watch his shoulders relax a little, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, just at the moment, I th-” 

“No!” he almost yells, the tips of his ears turning a little pink now. “No, I want to.” He reiterates, “I, well, I, Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Staring up into his eyes, you realize what he’s asking: Is this just a rebound from Josh? Is this the hormones talking? Will this mean anything after tonight? There was unspoken communication, but you had mulled over those questions for the past two weeks. 

Their answers were what scared you the most. It frightened you how ready you were to leave all your memories of Josh in the gutter and start something with one of your best friends. The scary part was how easy it was to want, care for, and miss him. You gave him a slow nod, “I’m not going anywhere you can’t follow.” 

Spencer’s worried gaze softened as the edges of his lips quirked up into a slight smile, leaning closer, “Stuck with you? Forever?” He sucks in air through his teeth dramatically, his eyes flicking around your face cautiously. 

You roll your eyes at his playful tone, “M’tired of talking,” Your lips close the gap before he can say anything back. 

Spencer doesn’t protest as he kisses you back—soft, slow, sensual movements against your lips. Pulling away here and there just to kiss you again, his lips gently pulling your bottom lip whenever he pulls away. You graze your teeth against his bottom lip, careful not to bite him as you cup his face, his large hands holding onto your waist. 

His hands press down on your hips, firmly keeping you in place as he pushes against you slowly. His chest presses against yours, his hands start to pull your hips closer to his. A soft groan can be heard, and you can’t pinpoint who makes the sound as your mind becomes hazy from the way he kisses you. 

You almost don’t register that he’s led you towards your bed. The feeling of your bed hitting the back of your legs makes you register that you walked with him to your bed. You pull away, inching back onto your bed carefully as soft panting fills the dimly lit room, staring up at him from your bed. 

You watch as he kicks off his shoes before crawling onto the bed, looming above you as you slowly slide your body up the bed. He’s pressing a hand near your head as the other brushes a stray hair from your eyes, his lips leaving fleeting kisses across your face, slowly trailing down to your neck. 

His kisses start to get deeper once he passes the area of your jaw, gently sucking on the area just below your ear before letting the sensitive skin go and dragging his lips lower to repeat the act. 

Soft, pleasured sighs escape your lips as he kisses and lightly sucks on the sensitive skin that is your neck. One of your hands reaches for his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls as he sucks on your collarbone. The hand that isn’t supporting his weight on the bed is trailing down your chest slowly, reaching the hem of your shirt as he tentatively slips the tips of his fingers under it carefully. “That okay?” he pulls away from your collarbone to look down at you. 

You let out a sweet ‘mhm’ before you smile up at him. Spencer smiles back as he leans in to kiss your lips again. Your lips part almost immediately so he can slip his skilled tongue into your mouth, and he does just that. 

His tongue carefully traces yours as his hand slowly starts to trail up your stomach, his touch making you shiver as his slightly cold hands inch toward your unsupported breasts, gasping softly against his lips at the feeling of his fingers slowly cupping your right breast. The movement of his tongue against yours slows for a second as his thumb traces around the taut bud of your nipple, gently rubbing and circling patterns until he earns a little whine from you, 

His lips pull away from yours, but he stays close, brushing against yours as he speaks. “Good?” 

You let out a breathless “Very.” before he repeats the pattern, his index finger joining now as he gently pinches the aroused bud. A shaky sigh escapes your lips, your lips trembling lightly against Spencer’s as he watches you, pulling his head back to get a better look. 

His eyes study your face—the way your nose sometimes scrunches up in pleasure, how dilated your pupils are when you look at him, and his favorite, how you gently pull your bottom into your mouth with your teeth in a vain attempt to hold in your quiet moans.

He watches as you give him an embarrassed expression. “You’re staring,” your voice is a sweet whisper, eliciting a shiver that crawls up his spine. 

He looks away with a mutter of an apology, giving you a quick smile. His fingers slip away from your chest to slide down to the hem of your shirt. He looks into your eyes as he fiddles with the fabrics. “Can I see you?” 

A quick nod from you gives him your answer as he quickly pulls your shirt over your head, his eyes quick to trail over your face down to your exposed chest. He watches the way your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as he slowly moves his head down to place gentle kisses on your collarbone. 

Kissing a trail down to the valley between your breasts, he slowly makes his way over to your left breast, his eyes looking up at you as he gently places his lips around the bud of your nipple. 

Your eyes watch him as he gently flicks his tongue against the sensitive peak before sucking on it lightly. Your mouth falls open as you watch him, breathing heavily as you feel his free hand reaching up to play with your other nipple. 

Quiet, breathy sounds are all Spencer can hear now– a gasp here, a shaky sigh there, and occasionally a closed-mouth moan. He likes watching the way your head falls back as he adds a little more pressure with his tongue, rubbing wet circles around your erect nipples. 

He feels like he’s moving too fast and taking too long simultaneously. He wants to hear you, he wants you to relax under his touch, and he wants to take his time with you. On the other hand, he’s dreamt about this moment more times than he can count. He wants to tell you that it’s even better than what he imagined, but the idea sounds stupid, given he’s only sucking on your nipples right now. He hasn’t even been inside you, and he doesn't want to risk sounding inexperienced right now. 

He decides that pleasing you further speaks louder than words as he slides his hand on your other breast down your chest slowly, creeping toward the waistband of your pajama pants. His fingers trace along the edge of your pants as his lips keep sucking. 

You squirm under him as you move your hands down to start pulling your bottoms off as fast as you can manage, accidentally forcing Spencer’s lips off your chest in the process. He watches you briefly, laughing softly as he helps you out of your pajama pants before tossing them to the side.  

Spencer’s eyes focus on your thighs, his fingers tracing slow paths from your outer right thigh to your inner thigh. He is trying to focus on the sound of your breathing, testing out areas with his fingers to see which one excited you the most based on the hitching of your breath when he touches it. 

“Higher,” Your voice makes him jump a little, a small smile forming on your face as he does so. He swallows and grins, moving his fingers higher now inches from the edge of your underwear. 

“Higher?” He questions playfully, his deep caramel eyes looking into yours as he watches you nod. His fingers glide over to your underwear, pressing against the center, his fingers touching your folds through the fabric. 

You sigh softly as his fingers rub up and down the fabric, pressing in harder with each stroke. “You’re so pretty,” Spencer’s voice sounds strained, earning him a weak smile from you. 

“Just pretty?” You moan quietly as he slips his hand into your underwear suddenly, the feeling making you gasp. 

Spencer’s index and middle fingers do most of the exploring as he stares at you, “No, not just pretty. Gorgeous, beautiful, captivating, astounding.” His fingers find your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves teasingly slow. 

You’re breathing heavily through your nose now as you move your hips against his fingers to let him know it feels good. “Is,” you relax your shoulders carefully. “Is astounding a look I pull off well?” 

“Very well,” he answers honestly, even though he knows you’re joking. His fingers begin to rub slow, tight circles as he leans in to kiss you again. The kiss swallows up any moans you start to let out as Spencer’s fingers make electric arousal build up in your lower abdomen, your legs feeling weak as you spread them further. 

Spencer hums against your lips as he quickly deepens the kiss, his hips absentmindedly grinding against your thigh as his fingers move away from your clit to yank your underwear down. You help him, kicking them away with your eyes closed, your tongue dragging along Spencer’s. 

His middle finger teasingly drags your wetness down to your entrance, pressing against the area quickly before hesitating. He pulls away slightly from your lips, but you’re already answering his question before he can ask it. “Yes,” You whisper against his lips, moving your hips down against his finger. 

He lets out a breathy laugh as he slowly pushes his index finger into you, his own eyes almost rolling back into his head as he hears the shaky moan you let out. He’s quick to chase that high as his fingers curl inside of you, searching for that spot that will make you let out more sounds for him to enjoy. 

Your brows furrow as your eyes flutter closed, chasing the needy feeling inside of you that is too desperate to wait for him to find your g-spot on his own. Your hips grind down, guiding him slightly until his fingers curl against the slightly rough patch of nerves inside you. A sharp gasp, followed by a breathy chuckle, leaves your lips as you open your eyes to look at Spencer. “Right there,” 

He’s always been so good at following instructions, so he knows not to change much regarding his fingers, curling and dragging against that sweet spot inside of you slowly. His lips kiss your collarbone softly, kissing up to your ear. “Wanna hear you,”

How could you deny such a sweet voice? Especially when that sweet voice belongs to the man you’ve been pining over for weeks. It also helps when he has his fingers inside of you. Your lips parted as you let out a soft groan, followed by a shaky gasp of air.

Spencer’s finger picks up the pace gradually, going faster and rougher with every sound from your lips. A cry of pleasure? Faster. A loud moan? Rougher. You wondered what sound you needed to make for him to add a second finger. 

It wasn’t a sound so much as simply having to tell him, “Add another finger,” You breathe out between moans, and Spencer is quick to push his index finger into the waves of pleasure he’s causing throughout your body. 

It’s not long before your hips are raising slightly, loud whines and groans escaping your lips as he brings you closer to your release with every curl and drag of his fingers. You could feel Spencer’s breath hot against the shell of your ear now as your eyebrows furrowed tightly, focusing on every feeling he gave you. 

He’s relentless, listening to how your breathing hitches and moans increase with specific tempos, learning the kind of pressure you like simply based on sound. Has a man ever done that before? You weren’t sure; all you knew was that you were getting closer to an orgasm. You wanted to be hopeful and think it would be the first of many.

Short gasps were escaping your lips as your head tilted back into the mattress, “That’s it.” Spencer’s lips are on your exposed neck now, gently sucking, kissing sweetly against your pulse point as you inch closer to your climax. “Sound so good.” His voice is a little muffled, not to mention hard to hear over the sounds of your moans, but it’s making your hips stutter as they grind against his fingers. 

Then you’re crashing hard. Your body tenses, shaking under him, you cry out as your orgasm rips through you. Small whimpers and moans are spilling from your lips as your hands fly up to his shoulders, gripping them until your knuckles turn white.

A groan leaves his lips as he watches you. It's a sight he wants to commit to memory. He wants to close his eyes and draw it if he can, memorize every shudder, every stutter of your hips, the way your eyes open to look at him afterward– pupils’ dilated and shimmering under a haze of lust. 

You whine a little when he pulls his fingers out of you, and Spencer wonders how he has so much self-control. He’s about to ask you how you’re feeling, to check in on you, but then you're grabbing his wrist.

You’re dragging his hand to your lips terribly slow, and Spencer feels his breathing stop for a second as he watches you drag his index and middle fingers into your mouth to suck yourself off them. His next breath comes out as a stuttering mess, watching as your tongue slides between his fingers, your eyes staring into his before fluttering closed. 

It’s his turn to whine when you’re done sucking his fingers clean. He was already painfully hard while he was fingering you, but now he feels like he might burst into flames if he cannot have you. “Please,” He whispers, his hips grinding against your outer thigh timidly. 

A part of you almost feels bad for him; he feels so hard against your outer thigh, and he still has all his clothes on. He has to be desperate– the thought makes your mouth water. 

Your hands are quick to help him out of his pants, undoing his button and zipper. As he pulls the pants down his legs, you’re sliding your hands under his shirt. You hum with soft desire as you feel the curves and dips of muscles on his surprisingly toned chest. He shivers at the feeling of your fingers dragging along his chest, inching closer to the waistband of his boxers. 

Your fingers stop before reaching his boxers, slipping out from under his shirt, and going for his tie. A tie already loose and halfway forgotten. You slip your fingers around the maroon tie, pulling it off quickly and with no complaint from Spencer as you do so. Your eyes trail up to meet his, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Spencer could feel your fingers thumbing at the buttons on his shirt, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away from your eyes. He’s so captivated by your eyes on his that he completely misses what you say. “What?” His voice comes out breathy as you undo the second button on his shirt. 

You let out a soft chuckle, looking away from his eyes to peak at his partially exposed chest. “I asked if it would be okay to leave some hickeys on your chest,” 

Spencer’s breathing hitches in his throat as he lets out a bashful “Yes.” He can hear another laugh leave your lips as his eyes trail down to your fingers working on the last button on his shirt, how they hook around the edge and pull the material away to expose his chest fully. He’s enraptured, caught in a trance as he watches you lean your head down to his chest, soft kisses sending electric shivers down his spine. 

You kiss down his sternum, trailing off to the left of his chest and sucking lightly. A breath is ripped away from him at the feeling, and he suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to whine. He fights the urge as he sighs again, your lips slowly sucking and kissing down his chest, leaving some light and dark purple spots in your wake. 

It’s hard to pull his eyes away from your work. Each time you leave a mark on his lower chest, Spencer’s eyes linger on it before they follow you to your next location. He feels sensitive all over, his body humming–tingling–with desire. He wonders if you’d think he’s pathetic if he begs for something more. 

But you catch on before he embarrasses himself.

You sit up straight as your hands rest on his lower stomach, looking down at his crotch before looking up into his eyes curiously. “May I?” You ask with a half-hearted chuckle like it’s funny. 

He knows you aren’t laughing at him; you’re laughing because you already know his answer. A soft whine is pulled from his throat as he says, “Yes,” 

Your eyes leave his, trailing down his body slowly as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and start to pull them down. Spencer’s eyebrows knit together at the feeling, the material dragging against his hard cock slowly. 

As he kicks his boxers away, he is pleasantly surprised when you straddle his lap. Your hips hover inches from his as you lean down towards him slowly, your hands pressing against his chest for stability. Your hair falls in your face as you whisper a slow, seductive, “Does this work for you?” 

Spencer can feel his heart stutter lightly against his chest as he nods like a madman, cheeks flushed as he stammers out a little, “Ab-absolutely, anything you want, we don’t– I mean– we can do anything you want, I won’t mind.” 

His nervous rambling is cut off with a hiss of pleasure as he feels you wrap your hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance carefully. The slow drag of his head against your folds has him letting out a stuttering sigh, his hands instinctively moving to your hips. His eyes shut tight as you sink down on him, a soft sigh falling from your lips as you slowly take every inch. He feels the urge to beg again. 

You’re watching him from his lap, a little smile gracing your face as you watch the way his mouth falls open as you adjust your knees slightly to fully sit down on his cock. A slight muffled whine can be heard from Spencer as his eyes slowly open to take in the sight of you bare and preparing to ride him– it makes him feel dizzy. 

It's your turn for your lips to part, a shaky sound of pleasure leaving your lips as you start to move your hips up slowly. He’s so hard inside of you that you’re sure you can feel his cock twitching inside of you as you slowly move up and down. 

You can feel the way his slender fingers start to grip your hips tighter, gently digging into your skin at the tortuous pace you’re beginning to set. It’s building, that’s for sure. You’re panting lightly as soft moans fill the room. 

You let out a soft yelp, feeling Spencer’s hips chase yours when you slow down slightly, looking down at him with a surprised expression. He sends you an apologetic look and whispers, “I’m sorry, I just need– I’m sorry.” His voice sounds strained like you’re putting him through the worst torture imaginable. 

You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head a little as you brace yourself on your knees a little more, “Greedy boy,” you tease him lightly as you press down harder on his chest with your palms, giving him a taste of the pace he so desperately craved. 

Spencer lets out a shaky laugh that dies away into a groan as your hips move at a slightly faster pace, his hands beginning to guide you down onto his cock. He’s trying to be respectful of the pace you’re setting every time– honest! This feels too much like a fantasy, like a wet dream he’s sure he’s had many times before, one that has every instinct in his bones telling him to go as hard and fast as possible. 

It's an incredibly tempting stupid instinct. He knows that the faster you ride him, the faster this moment is over, but it feels so good. The drag of his painfully hard cock against your walls– add to that the lewd sounds that keep escaping your lips whenever you give him an experimental roll of your hips. He’s panting when he feels you picking up the pace again, his fingers flexing against your hips. It’s still not enough. He’s not sure he’ll ever have enough of you. 

You’re breathing heavily as you flick your head to the side to get a better look at him. He’s starting to sweat a little as his eyes trail down your body. Whenever his eyes catch a slight of his cock disappearing inside of you, he licks his lips, dragging his bottom lip into his lip for a second as his eyes move back up to your face. 

You give him a quick, breathless smile as you whisper a saccharine, “You like that?” You begin, dragging your hips forward slightly on your way down his length. “ You like watching your cock disappear inside me?” 

Spencer’s eyes widen for a second as he gives you a quick nod, “Yes-” He lets out a whine, his hips chasing yours again as you slow down quickly, teasingly dragging your hips against his, driving him crazy. 

As you experimentally roll your hips, you can feel his head brushing against your g-spot, and you’re quick to ignore his pleasure to chase your own. You aim for the feeling again, your hands leaving his chest as you move them back to his knees, causing you to lean back slightly. 

The sight is intimate and extremely erotic as Spencer watches the way you grind your hips against his cock, gasping out harshly whenever it hits the rough patch of nerves inside of you. He elevates his hips slightly for you, his mouth falling open as he looks at you, completely starstruck. 

You give him another flash of a smile as you move faster down on him, friction wise it doesn’t feel as good as when you were riding him, but just seeing the way you’re getting yourself off on his cock has him feeling like he’s about to burst. 

He wants you to cum around his cock more than so desperately that he gives up on caring about embarrassing himself, stammering out dirty talk as fast as he can, “You look so good, so fucking good.” He gasps out, watching as your eyes close. 

The sound of his voice helps you chase that high as wanton moans accompany your movements, leaving him feeling encouraged. “Wish I could record you like this. I need to remember how you look right now. Would you let me?” He stammers out between his shaky moans. 

Your head is nodding before you can genuinely process what he’s saying. Your fingers digging into his skin lightly, “Feels so good, Spencer.” 

He’s sure that’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard as he lets out a shaky, “Ye-Yeah? Do you want me to rub your clit? You want me to make you cum right now?” 

He’s asking for direction, but it doubles as dirty talk for you as your eyes open and meet his. You’re sure you’re saying the words ‘yes’ repeatedly, but you don’t actually hear the sound coming from your lips. The only thing you can focus on now is the way one of Spencer’s hands is sliding from your hip to your clit. His thumb dragging fast, tight circles on your clit. 

Spencer watches as your eyebrows crinkle together and gasps of air leave your lips. He feels your walls flutter around him. He’s careful to raise his hips to push deeper into you as you reach your second orgasm of the night with his cock deep inside you. 

Your walls squeeze around him so tight that he feels weak in the knees as you let out a high-pitched cry of pleasure, your body shaking on top of him. He’s happy to keep moving his thumb against your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm to your heart's content. 

Eventually, the shaking on your thighs calms, and you’re hissing out with overstimulation, whispering gently, “Wait, wait, wait.” You relax briefly, your hips still stuck against Spencer’s as he stops moving his thumb. Your eyes meet his, and your heart squeezes at the look he’s giving you. Something that was a mix of complete adoration and desire. 

His eyes flicker over your face nervously as he licks his lips slowly, his eyes still occasionally dipping down to your hips flush against his. You tilt your head slightly as you watch him, a small smile on your face as you lean forward, your chest pressing against his gently as you give him a soft kiss. 

It’s a short kiss, but Spencer still ends up following your lips by the end of it. “Should we switch positions?” Your voice is curiously sweet, and Spencer immediately nods at the idea. 

You lift your hips off of him and slide off his lap slowly, your legs only feeling a slight sting from riding him. You lay on the bed and watch as Spencer moves to hover over you. His eyes stare directly at your dripping cunt, and he looks like he’s lost in thought, something that earns a soft laugh from you as you shake your head at him a little. “Something on your mind?” 

It was a good-natured tease, but he answers honestly nonetheless, “Can’t decide if I want to eat you out or go back to fucking you.”  His eyes leave the dripping wet area between your legs to look into your eyes. 

It almost sounds strange coming from his mouth, you could probably count on your fingers the number of times he’s cursed in front of you. Nor did you expect something so… erotic. Then again, he did say some rather dirty things just moments prior. It didn’t phase you then because you had other things on your mind, i.e., cumming on his cock. 

You gave him a playful smile, his eyebrows raising slightly with interest, “Spencer Reid, are you… sexy?” 

He chuckles as he moves his body closer, slotting his body between your spread legs, “You tell me.” 

You laugh a little at that, and your eyes take him in—how he looks with his hands on your knees, gently pushing them to get you to spread them wider. With a wide grin, you whisper, “You are.” 

One of his hands is pressing into the bed to the left of you as he hovers over you, his other moving to your face to brush a stray hair out of your face gently. You can tell he’s trying not to feel embarrassed at the compliment as you gently move a hand up to his hair– fingers raking through his curls. “I vote you go back to fucking me.” 

Your words cause a slight shiver to roll down his spine as he lets out a soft “Mhm,” his hand leaving your face to guide his cock back inside of you slowly. He lets out a soft sigh as he presses into you, his gaze scanning your face for any sign of pain. 

He sees none as he watches your head tilt back onto the bed slightly, eyes closing for a second. The pace he starts is timid and gentle. He knows a slow build to a fast pace is better, wiser, and he’ll last longer. But it’s getting hard to remember with the way you feel around him, how deliciously you squeeze around him whenever he thrusts into you a little deeper than the time before. 

“Move your hips faster,” You mutter softly as your hips grind on his cock slowly, the slow pace making you feel embarrassingly impatient. 

He doesn’t mind, of course. He’s all too happy to start moving his hips faster. Soft moans fall from his lips as he picks up the pace, his hands moving from bracing himself up on the bed to the area behind your knees, gently lifting your legs up and apart, leaving them slightly bent in his hands. 

It happens so fast that you stare at him in awe for a split second as he readjusts himself to drive his hips into you again, and with the way he has you now, you can feel him thrusting deeper inside. You whine loudly at the feeling and nod quickly, a wordless attempt to let him know how good it feels. 

He shows you a half smile as he takes that as a sign to go deeper, grunts falling in time with his pace– seemingly becoming slightly ruthless. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of his cock reaching deeper inside you, quivers of pleasure racing through your body, your legs, everywhere. You’re sure you’re being too loud now, your cunt starting to squelch with every drag of his hips. 

Spencer feels like he’s in heaven, listening to your body respond to his, feeling your legs tremble under his touch, and watching how your eyebrows knit together when he picks up the pace slightly. He’s sure there is nobody, dead or alive, that makes him feel the way you’re making him feel right now. 

It’s exhilarating, intoxicating, and it’s making his orgasm get closer. Panting heavily, he moves your legs to wrap around his waist as he braces himself on the bed again, and he starts to roll his hips into you quickly. He lets out a breathless laugh when you yell a little, “Oh!” Pride fills his senses, knowing how good he can make you feel. 

“I’m getting close,” He rasps out with another sharp, fast roll of his hips. 

You nod quickly as you mouth a silent ‘yes’ to his warning. You’re not sure you can speak in coherent sentences with the way his cock keeps brushing against that spot inside you that has you gushing around him effortlessly. 

“Do you want me to pull out?” he stubbles out sweetly between his moans. 

You shake your head at that, “No!” You cry out, eyes locking on his as you moan out, “Inside.” 

He looks at you for a second, his hips slowing to a frustrating stop, “Are you sure, because missionary-” He heaves out a soft sigh, looking at the way you’re lust-filled eyes stare up at him, “Are you sure?” 

A gentle smile appears on your face, and Spencer feels like he’s staring at an angel. The feeling grows as you move your hands to pull his face to yours, brushing a light kiss on his lips with the soft, reassuring answer he needs to hear, “I’m sure,” 

Spencer grins against your lips, kissing you deeper as he starts to thrust his hips into you again. Your eyes roll back slightly at the rough feeling of his lips on yours and his hips snapping into you over and over again. 

Muffled moans came from both of you as you gently slipped your tongue into the kiss, eliciting a growl from the man thrusting into you. He pulls away to press his forehead against yours. Physical intimacy for Spencer always fell second to emotional. Now, feeling how your hands hold his shoulders and hearing you whisper strings of soft praise to him, he realizes that combined, they turn into the most ethereal experience he’s ever felt. 

Guttural-sounding moans are escaping his throat as he chases his climax like a madman, “You feel so good, so good.” Is all he can manage to gasp out between moans as your nails dig into his shoulders. 

You mewl under him as he gasps out a short, “I’m- god, fuck, I’m cu-” his erratic hips stutters against yours, thrusting as deep as he can into you as he reaches his climax. His breathing stutters as he lazily drags his hips in and out with his orgasm, doing his best to make it last longer for the both of you. With a final sharp thrust, he empties into you. 

Sometime after, he’s slowly pulling out and disappearing into your bathroom to get something to clean you up. You laugh as he insists on cleaning you up himself, his hands gentle as he drags the towel against your cum soaked folds. 

Once you fall asleep, Spencer finds him playing with the ends of your hair, watching how your chest rises with each deep breath. He smiles into the dark as he leans into your ear, not caring if you hear it in your sleep, “I’m going to marry you the first chance I get.” 

Day One Thousand Thirty-Three

“Spencer,” Your voice carries across the BAU bullpen, an unmistakable smile of amusement on your face as you approach his desk. “Spencer Reid,” 

After two years of being with him, he’s not sure he’s ever gotten sick of that smile. Dazzling, patient, sweet, and almost always constant when you’re around him– a permanent fixture on your face now that you live with him.  

“You are late, Doctor Reid. Hop to it!” You tap against his desk playfully. You’re already dressed for dinner tonight at Rossi’s– or that’s what you think it is anyway– and you look stunning. Even under the harsh lights of the bullpen, you look glowing, so gorgeous that Spencer feels like spoiling the surprise right now. 

“It’s barely past five. We’re fine.” 

“He’s gone already,” You move your hand dramatically towards Rossi’s empty office… most of the bullpen is empty now that you think about it. Why was your boyfriend the only one staying fifteen minutes after five? To be fair, he was waiting for you, and you were the one running late, so you feel a little guilty as you watch Spencer pack up his things. 

He looked especially good this morning, wearing one of his light brown suit combos that always had you messing up his tie before he left for work that day. You hum softly as you and Spencer walk side-by-side toward the elevators. “Do you know why Rossi said to dress up a little this time? Last time, everyone seemed pretty casual.” 

Spencer offers you a little tight-lip smile with a slight shake of his head, “No, he does have a flare for the dramatic sometimes.” He’s praying to whatever deity listening that you don’t catch on to the lie. 

You scoffed out a soft laugh, looking at him with a raised brow, “And you don’t?” 

“I’d like to think I’m more grounded in facts and reason than dramatics,” He defends himself with a laugh, hitting the button for the first floor. “Living with you has made me more dramatic. If anything, I’m mirroring you when I,” he does air quotations with his finger as he finishes, “Am being dramatic.”  

“You are so lucky you’re a federal agent,” 

“I am pretty hard to kill.” He says with a serious-looking nod, but the smile growing on his face as you walk through the parking lot to your car is telling. 

Your smile falls slightly as you nudge his shoulder softly. “Don’t remind me,” you tease him in a melancholy tone. More than two years ago, if someone had asked you if you’d be sad if Josh died tragically, you would have simply said yes. Now, with Spencer, if someone asked you that same question, you know you would start crying on the spot at the idea of the man next to you dying. 

It’s funny how people can affect other people. Through all his challenges, Spencer Reid was incredibly patient, kind, and devoted to his loved ones—including you. He was the air you breathed, and you were his. Every look he gave you, every smile he showed, and every touch confirmed it– you were going to grow old with him, one way or another. 

Spencer headed into Rossi’s villa first, and you grabbed some wine and the charcuterie board, something that the host himself requested. You were happy to help, considering he was cooking for everyone, but the lack of direction with the wine threw you slightly. Rossi loved food, loved hosting these team meals, and was… to put it bluntly, a control freak. 

You picked up a label you vaguely remembered him talking about once as you headed in after Spencer. The house looks… dark? You open the door, peeking your head in slightly. “Spencer?” A dark front room greets you. Your eyes quickly adjust as you close the front door behind you. 

You hear something moving from the kitchen, the hairs on your neck standing up as you tip-toe towards it. “Rossi?” you call out in a whisper. It definitely smells like food—chicken piccata. 

More darkness, you blink and mouth a silent “What the fuck?” Then, you catch a glimpse of some light from outside. You quietly set the board and wine on the granite countertop and head for the back door. 

From what you can see, the lanterns are on in the backyard, but more twinkling lights have been added along some trees. If you weren’t so terrified, you’re sure you would find it beautiful. But considering the team’s line of work, you were always afraid of something like this– well, whatever this was anyway. All you knew was that you no longer trusted dark houses at night. 

You made sure not to turn your back to the outside, carefully looking around and closing the door behind you. Now you knew they were out here. You could hear shushing. 

Then there he was, a big smile on his face, and everything clicked. Oh.

Oh.

“Spencer Reid, this better not be what I think it is.” 

He’s standing in the center of the backyard on a patch of patio tile, candles and flowers leading up to him. He laughs a little as you approach him. He can see tears forming in your eyes, and he hasn’t even started with the proposal. “I’m afraid it is,” he mutters as his hand slips into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, red velvet box. 

He bends down on one knee, staring up at you as you smile through tears, “I’ve had the pleasure of being with you for seven hundred and seventy-four days, but if someone asked me how many days I’ve been in love with you, I would have to tell them that I have been in love with you for one thousand thirty-three days.” His fingers are shaking as he opens the ring box, his eyes scanning your face carefully to see your reaction to the ring. 

Garcia and you often scrolled through Pinterest board together, an app that Spencer didn’t quite understand. Which explains why he asked Garcia to go with him to get the ring, because she didn’t want him to quote ‘mess it up, Aidan from Sex and the City style’ —whatever that meant. 

He was so calm when he bought it, but on the way home, he recalls looking over at Penelope in the car and asking, ‘What if she doesn’t like this one?’ in a terrified tone. 

Seeing your face now– the way your eyes light up as you wipe away falling tears and how you’re laughing through them, he knows he’s made the right choice. “I want to love you for twenty thousand more.  I want to love you through every wrinkle, every laugh, every bad day, indefinitely. I want to love you when our hair turns grey. I want you to be the rest of my life, and, at the end of it, I know I’ll see you flash before my eyes.” 

He’s watching the way you hike up your dress to your shins and get on both knees, cupping his face gently as you sniffle through happy tears. His eyes soften slightly as he becomes level with you, moving to sit on his knees. “My question is, will you let me? Will you marry me?” 

You let out a scoff, nodding quickly. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, in a thousand different languages, yes!” You laugh out sweetly as you kiss him. He smiles into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your middle tightly. 

The two of you only pull away when the sound of confetti starts popping on either side of you. You laugh as you watch Penelope step out from her hiding place with half the team following behind her. Moving your head to the other side, you can see Rossi clapping softly with the other half. 

You try to dry your eyes again as small strands of confetti reach your head, Spencer’s arms slipping away from you to carefully slip the ring on your left hand. He then looks over at Penelope, “You didn’t say anything about confetti poppers.” He says in a playfully stern voice, standing up slowly before extending a hand to you. 

She simply shrugs and squeals, “She said yes!” 

Then they’re all on you like a pack of wolves, hugging, kissing cheeks, laughing as you gather your composure. After a few moments of congratulations, all you can think to say is, “I almost had a heart attack.”  

The night begins and ends with laughter. On the drive home with Spencer, you can’t help but think that there are twenty thousand more nights to come and how none of them will ever measure up to this one. It’s one of those nights that linger in the air after everyone’s already said goodbye, and it’s perfect.

[ciaomarie]

Waiting on my AO3 invite. Here's a one shot Sydcarmy story. Canon compliant. Post season 2. Please excuse the grammar/spelling mistakes. I need season 3 to get here quickly!

Title: Won't You Be My Neighbor

It was her break and for the 89th time in the last three days Sydney reassessed the apartments within 15 minutes walking distance from The Bear. As CDC she no longer wanted to depend on the train should there be some kind of accident, strike, or weather event. There were three that she could afford on her own and many more options if she were willing to become a roommate. She wasn't. If inspiration for a recipe struck her at 2am she wanted to get up and cook if she wanted. She loved the freedom of walking around naked after a shower, picking out her clothes or getting a snack. Most of all she missed turning up her music and dancing like an inflatable tube man in private.

She had sent a message to each leasing office to schedule an appointment next Monday and two of the three had confirmed a 10a and 11a showing. It had been more than 48 hours since she messaged the third so she called. The leasing agent informed her that the specific unit she wanted was no longer available, but they had a gorgeous 2 bedroom for $3800 a month if she was interested. "Okay, now that's just two options" Sydney muttered after getting off the phone.

"Hey mija, what you looking at?" Tina asked sitting down to eat lunch.

"Just apartments. I finally have the funds to move" Sydney answered with a sigh.

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to be getting out on your own?"

"Oh, yeah for sure. It's just I'm really picky"

"Well, it doesn't have to be forever. Just make sure to read the reviews. You don't want roaches or bed bugs".

"Oh, I can't stand bugs! My dad still has to kill them for me, but I better get a fly swatter and spray now that I'll be on my own soon."

Break was over and Sydney stood up to resume her duties. First she needed to talk to Natalie about the upcoming private party. A celebrity had reserved the entire restaurant next Thursday evening. The names of all staff members on duty that night had to be submitted ahead of time with signed NDAs. It was all happening so fast and The Bear's debt was likely to be paid less than a year after opening. First there had been a Grio article about her being a rising black chef. That led to Keith Lee, the TikTok restaurant reviewer, raving about his to-go order that included the T-Bone and the Michael cannoli. It went viral and suddenly, they were booked for the next three months with a waiting list. She was working harder than ever, getting paid pretty well, and she deserved a place of her own.

After talking to Natalie, she found Carmy working on her prep.

"Hey, thanks! I can take over that now if you want"

"Actually….it's done. I wanted to take you somewhere for like 30 minutes" he said finishing up and cleaning the station.

Sydney folded her arms, her eyebrows raised high.

"Okay, where are we going?"

"I know you've been looking for a place and I think know the perfect apartment for you. Just a 10 minute walk from here. The landlord gave me the key so I could show you today" Carmy said trying to sound casual, but a deep pink flush rose in his cheeks.

"Why is he being weird?" Sydney thought but simply said "Okay, that's dope."

The Chicago air was soft and warm, the clean sunlight making everything look new. Summer afternoons like this made you forgive the brutal winters here. Carmy directed Sydney when to turn left and right, but refused to tell her where exactly they were going. Soon they were standing in front of his building.

The reason for his weirdness was now perfectly clear to Sydney and she felt so flattered that she had to avoid looking at Carmy when she said "So, there's an open unit in your building?"

"Uh, yeah. The people who lived just above me moved and I, uh, thought you might want to see it".

The apartment was on the fourth floor. Carmy unlocked the door and let Sydney go in first. The walls were freshly painted in "Cloud White" and the oak hardwood floors creaked comfortably under their feet. The layout was the same as Carmy's apartment with plenty of windows to let in natural light and a shockingly large kitchen for a 1 bedroom place in Chicago. As Sydney inspected the appliances and bathroom, she decided that if the rent was going to eat up even half of her check it was worth it. She had always admired Carmy's spacious apartment and with her sense of style she could make hers, a cozy bohemian oasis filled with plants, wall art, and actual furniture (eventually).

Carmy had let her roam around in silence for a few minutes, muttering and emitting tiny sounds of joy to herself. When she met him in the living room again, he said trying not to grin too widely, "If you like it, it's already yours."

"How? I know places like this are snatched up fast" Sydney said her eyes finally able to meet his again.

"The landlords, they're a couple, and their 20th wedding anniversary is coming up. They want reservations at The Bear." Carmy explained, desperately hoping to sound nonchalant about it.

"Oh, that's nice work, Carmy."

Then Sydney squealed and cried "This is just what I wanted!!" and she flung her arms around his shoulders in a wild hug. Carmy commanded his body not to shudder as he hugged her back. She was just wearing a t-shirt and without her usual layers of clothing he felt her delicate frame, her slim shoulder blades imprinting on his fingers.

In a moment Sydney pulled back shly and let her arms fall to her sides, her face burning. She made a mental note: Hugging Carmy. Not a safe activity for those who want to cook along side him using sharp objects or sleep peacefully at night dreaming innocent thoughts.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" Sydney said taking another step back and making another turn around the room.

Carmy nodded and concentrated on not melting into the floorboards.

"You're okay with this? We already spend 60+ hours together at the restaurant every week and now I'd be in your building! And literally living on top of you."

"Yeah, well, I want you to. You deserve everything you want, Syd."

"Then I'll take it! Just a warning though. If you hear someone belting out Kpop and an occasional thud, that's just my weekly one woman concert, which will be over no later than 10pm. I'm not being murdered."

Carm was no longer unable to contain the width of his smile. This girl is so cute, his body physically ached. How would he get through service tonight?

With a happy shake of his head, he replied, "Thank you, for the heads up!"

With that Sydney marched towards the door and exclaimed "Take me to your landlord!"

Carmy floated behind her.

Cue: Maxwell's "Whenever, Wherever, Whatever"

[adorethedistance]

First I Love You - Jamie Drysdale x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, mentions of anxiety, sexual references.

Words: 1677

Summary: First I Love You - After a day that gets increasingly worse, Jamie plans a date night to indirectly celebrate your two-month anniversary.

A/n: Cherry is back with a fic after a month of radio silence in typical aodre the distance fashion lol. Anyway! This has been in my drafts forever and I hate it, I can't proof it due to writer's block, and I'm honestly just done staring at it so here ya go!

You can read part 1 of the series of firsts here. The next and final first on the list is first time which is of course gonna be a lil smutty. I might write some Trevor pieces in the interim just depending how I'm feeling.

Today is just one of those days. My class ran much longer than usual and I had to stay after to ask my professor questions before the midterm that night, then I didn’t have time to make myself lunch so I grabbed the pizza rolls from my freezer to heat up at work, then I burned the pizza rolls beyond consumption and did not have any back up food, then I was starving and stressed and unable to use my time at work to study for the exam. I was crying in a puddle of stress and tears. And Jamie didn’t miss a beat. 

Upon hearing how horrible my morning and afternoon had been, he ordered my usual meal from In-N-Out and brought it to me at work so I wouldn’t starve. Then, he offered to make me dinner after I finished my midterm and I tearfully and appreciatively accepted. These little actions of consideration are what have made me fall deeper and deeper in love with Jamie. 

We reached our two months anniversary today but I didn’t make a big deal about it. I feel weird about potentially being one of those couples that celebrates every tiny little milestone like it’s the biggest thing in the world. Still neither of us have said “I love you” yet. But if Jamie continues caring for and about me like this, I’m not sure much longer I can hold it in. That’s why I decided I would tell him tonight.

After cooking dinner for the two of us, and pouring a congratulatory glass of wine to celebrate the 95 I got on my midterm, we laid down on the couch together. Happy and fed, I rest my head on the expanse of his broad chest. Jamie presses a kiss into my hair, bringing his left arm to drape over my shoulders.

“God, 2 months already?!” Trevor asks Jamie incredulously, making me roll my eyes at the playful jab.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Zegras.”

“You’re just mad cause you can’t pull.” Jamie’s accusation makes me laugh at the offended look on Trevor’s face. 

“Don’t get it twisted, I can pull.”

“You just can’t get them to stay?” I ask innocently, absentmindedly messing with Jamie’s fingers. Jamie laughs heartily. He interlaces his with mine to give my hand a gentle squeeze. “But to answer your original question, yes, it’s been 2 months already.” 

The scruff of my boyfriend’s 5 o’clock shadow brushes the back of my hand as he kisses the flat part of my knuckle. Trevor, observing the entire action, leans over the kitchen trashcan and pretends to throw up. Jamie merely laughs and I roll my eyes once more, “Shut the fuck up! You are so dramatic.”

“And for what?” Jamie chimes in which makes me smile to see he’s been picking up some of my mannerisms and phrases as well. That’s been my favorite part of dating him so far. The way his music taste slowly infiltrates mine. The way he now keeps a trashbag in his car after realizing how useful the one in mine is. The way he’s wearing the soft blue hoodie he lent me, for the reason that it now smells like me, which is why I had stolen it from him in the first place.

“I’m happy for you guys, really,” Trevor grabs his car keys from off the granite kitchen counter, “Thank you for rubbing salt into the open wound.”

“Oh my god-” Jamie starts.

“Get out of here!” I finish for him, urging Trevor to leave. 

“I’m gone!” He obliges. Then, Jamie kisses my head again, prompting me to sit up. 

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Mmm… no, actually. If I had to guess, he’s probably going golfing with the guys.”

“No way, he was dressed way too nice for golf…” I trail off, racking my brain for where he could have possibly been headed. Shrugging off the idea, I straddle Jamie’s hips, and look down at him. I smile. Overcome with the warm sensation of staring at my boyfriend. Jamie nudges me with his hips, indicating he would like me to lay back down. Before I comply, I pull my hair back tying it out of the way so I’m free to kiss Jamie as much as I please. He watches my every move, eyes flooded with adoration.

“At practice this morning, McT said he…” Jamie trails off mid sentence. As he was talking, I finished tying my hair back and then leaned down as he had wanted me to. He’s looking at me with eyes slightly widened and lips parted in surprise. 

“What?” I ask, concerned as to why Jamie stopped talking. He simply says,

“You’re really pretty.” The seemingly arbitrary declaration makes me laugh but does nothing to aid my confusion.

“Okay?”

“You’re just so pretty I think I short-circuited.” The earnest confession makes me smile and giggle, so I press a soft kiss to Jamie’s lips.

“You’re cute. So what did Mason say?”

“Oh yeah, he said that he wants to meet you.”

“Really?” I ask, rubbing my thumb over Jamie’s cheekbone. He kisses my palm before responding,

“Despite how much you and Trevor bully each other, he’s told everyone on the team about how cool you are. He kinda took the liberty to do it himself since I do gush about you, but I get shy about it.” Jamie is uncharacteristically speaking out loud his stream of consciousness, and I take a back seat to admire how talkative he can be when he’s with me. A stark contrast to the shy, almost silent boy I’d had my first date with. Noticing how much he’s talking, Jamie ends his rambling but I smile softly, encouragingly,

“It’s unfortunate that the ‘cool girl’ is seemingly the only archetype that consistently receives approval from men, but it is true nonetheless.”

“Yeah, like, it’s not that I need his approval, but it is nice when your boys like your girlfriend�� Well, it’s what you said, you just said it better. I’m mansplaining aren’t I?” He asks, bashfully. I roll my eyes and appreciatively kiss his lips once more.

“Get out of your head, Drysdale. Do you have anxiety?” 

“Shut up. I think you’re the only person I’ve ever met who can always tell when I’m overthinking.”

“Maybe I’m just the only one with the audacity to comment on it,” I playfully propose, smiling when I succeed in making Jamie laugh. 

“I don’t think so.”

“We’ll agree to disagree. It’s unlikely, but not impossible.” Dropping the bit, Jamie and I smile at each other, melting into a comfortable silence. He looks at me with soft eyes, pink blush creeping across his cheeks the longer I continue to stare. I rest my left hand on the side of his face once more. I brush my thumb over his cheekbone again, and rub the top of my fingers repeatedly against the stubble adorning his jaw. Jamie lifts his eye brows before saying,

“What, do I need to shave?”

“No. I just like the way it feels.”

“Oh, hey, you said you’re done with school by mid december, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“My mom asked if you were coming to Christmas this year.”

“Did she really?” Jamie hesitates a moment before his brows furrow in sincere disapproval.

“You’ve been my girlfriend for two months now. She will not shut up about meeting you.”

“What? Why?” He then blushes fiercely and cowers his head into the large hoodie he’s slouched on. Jamie doesn’t meet my gaze as he talks,

“I told her all about you the other day.” I bite back the giant smile that prods at my features before replying,

“What did you tell her?”

“Just stuff about you!”

“What stuff about me?!”

“I told her you’re a student and what you’re studying. I told her where you’re from and what your family is like. And I told her about how I stare at you between red lights when we’re going somewhere.” The last piece of information makes me laugh and I tilt my head in confusion.

“How did that last part come up?” It was a simple question, really. One that I hadn’t even bothered to put a lot of thought into; one that came from my basic stream of consciousness. And certainly not one that I imagined would ellicit such a reaction from Jamie. His eyes widened and softened all at once, his blush glowing brighter across his cheeks, and his lips parting to allow the irregular pace of breathing he had now adopted.

“I guess… I called her because I was unsure of what I was feeling…? I was kinda freaking out about it. As I told her about our first date, she said that just talking about you made me visibly happier. She noticed that, even though I wasn’t aware of how happy I’d gotten. Then she demanded to meet you as soon as possible…” Jamie sheepishly looks up at me after finishing his mini monologue. The traces of endeared happiness immediately vanish and Jamie looks at me horrified. In describing how happy I make this boy, I felt tears welling up on my lashes, relieved to be experiencing something so thoroughly mutual.

“Oh my god, please don’t cry I’m sorry!” I laugh through the tears and playfully smack his chest.

“Jamie…”

“You make me really happy, Y/n. Like, really really happy-”

“I love you,” I blurt out. I’m a bit stunned and honestly scared of how quickly this confession escaped me. But I know it’s true. And isn’t that the scariest part?

“I love you too.”

“Really?” I ask through unrelenting tears.

“Yes,” Jamie rests his hands on the tops of my hip bones, “I kind of lied by saying my mom said I looked happy… She said I looked very in love, but I didn’t want to be too forward and say that if you maybe didn’t feel the same way.”

“Bro, you worry so much, are you sure you don’t have anxiety?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

***

a/n: copy pasting tags is the best thing that has ever happened to fic writers I think.

[leth-writes]

yandere CEO x reader

Summary: Your boss has never been anything like the rumours suggested. Maybe you should've listened sooner.

Warnings: My blog is 18+, though this piece is not explicit. As well, usual yandere content warnings apply.

So this is actually an original character I'm workshopping, and I wrote this piece to get the character down. If you'd like more, just let me know!

“Shh, shh, it’s going to be okay, my love…” he said, running a hand down your face gently, cooing quietly. You struggled, shifted, trying your hardest to break free, but you were stuck, locked in place by the soft leather straps keeping you tied to the bed. You were gagged with a silky slip of fabric, cushioning your teeth and preventing your cries from reaching even into the rest of the ornate room. You were trapped, completely unable to so much as shift, kept in place without the ability to set yourself free.

You hadn’t ever expected it to end this way, working for one of the best companies in the world. All you wanted was to be safe, to be able to pay your bills and finally enjoy some stability; working as his secretary was supposed to be a well-paying gig. Turns out that his behavior with you was unlike that of the myriad of people who had once held the position.

He had a reputation for being harsh and cold, incredibly analytical, with high standards and higher expectations. When you first met him, however, you’d seen a man with kind brown eyes and a bright, soft smile, staring at you as though you’d lit the room up just by walking in. Your work had been unexpectedly easy, and he’d paid you incredibly well. Now you suspected he’d done all of it just to prevent you from trying to leave.

He’d lulled you into a sense of false security, after all, building up a relationship and getting you to trust him. He’d been so kind, so loving, and you’d fallen for it. It started with the small things. First, he’d always brought you coffee in the morning, then breakfast, then he was always taking you out for lunch. Then he’d started taking you out to dinner, until every meal of every day was spent with him, including the times you weren’t even working. He started invited you over to his house, you were more of a personal assistant than a secretary at that point, and you started spending more and more time there. He loved cooking for you, making you delicious dinners you knew you wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise, ingredients costing more than a month’s rent for you. Then you started staying over in a guest bedroom, more and more, until you were barely ever even going home. You couldn’t help it, being around him was just so relaxing; the stress seemed to melt away in his presence until you couldn’t picture your life without him.

That’s when he first kissed you. It was soft and sweet and it made your heart pound, your feelings swelling until it felt they couldn’t fit in your chest anymore, until all you wanted was to be with him.

So, the two of you started dating, and the true gift giving began. The gifts grew more and more extravagent, clothing and jewellry costing more than a house being dropped in your lap, and something started to seem… off. But he made you so happy, and he was so nice! So, you buried your worries under layers of tulle and started enjoying the luxury of it all. After a lifetime of barely scraping by it was nice to be able to sample some of the finer things.

After only a month, he asked you to move in. At first, you refused, but soon you found your lease abruptly ended with your landlord; with no where to go, you had no choice but to stay with your gracefully accepting host. You should’ve guessed that was all his planning, it was too convenient, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to make your landlord kick you out. Hell, even a threat would be enough to justify serving you up to him on a silver platter.

But then, the dynamic started to change. You felt bad, not contributing, and you started trying to insist on paying him rent or contributing in some way. He refused, you’d barely make a dent and he had more than enough, but you still felt off-balance. Eventually, he started giving you less and less work, until you mainly spent your days just reading in his office as he came in and out. It didn’t feel fair, not doing anything, and the two of you had plenty of fights just about work.

It all came to a head when you decided to move out. You wanted to be independent, to be able to support yourself, and you couldn’t justify leeching off of him anymore. of course, he didn’t see it that way, and the two of you got into a little spat. It worsened and worsened until suddenly, without even thinking, you blurted out that you wanted to see other people. Maybe you should’ve considered your words better.

Like a switch went off, gone was the bright, cheerful man you were used to, the analytical businessman emerging from the dust with a graceful smirk. He’d warned you, told you not to continue the sentence. You wouldn’t want him to think you were cheating, would you?

So, you doubled down. You insisted on a break-up. You couldn’t be around someone who could switch so drastically, who wouldn’t let you work, who was so… controlling! You felt it deep in your gut that this was a bad situation, and that you needed to leave. And just like that, the analytical version of himself was gone in a snap, and the gentle gleam was back, though it didn’t quite fit, like was wearing a too-big mask.

He’d agreed, smiling brightly, that you needed some space to think. You didn’t bother correcting his assumption. He implored you to at least stay for dinner, he wouldn’t feel right letting you walk out into the cold night after such a big fight… So you agreed. Maybe this way the break-up would be amicable, and you wouldn’t have to constantly look over one shoulder.

Halfway through dinner, he’d fired you. His face had been a facade of pity, lips slightly pouty as if to mock your shocked tears. Then, you’d started to feel a wave of exhaustion, and before you knew it, you were out.

It all led to this moment, him sitting beside your prone form as he smiled down at you. It was then you saw that crazed gleam, the one everyone had always described but that you’d never seen before. He’d informed you that you would be staying with him, that you could finally just be together without the pretense of work, and that you didn’t have to so much as lift a finger. He’d do everything for you.

You were starting to worry he was being literal.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Hello there! I am the Dilf requester anon :D. Can I ask you to continue the series?? OFC IT'S UP TO YOU!! (it can be anything really)

Btw looove your works!!!

It's been a month, but I've finally gotten to this ask, thanks to @3amfanfiction giving me suggestions on the next part for this. (Godsend, I tell ya.)

Anyways, I hope this still satisfies you even though it's a month late. Thank you for your kind words.

Ghost was a man who could follow orders. It was something that was ingrained in him after years of being in the military.

The thing was, he didn't follow just anyone's orders. They had to have his respect and more often than not, he clashed with his superiors when thinking their orders were bullshit. Price was the only one whose orders Ghost happily followed.

That was until he met you. You became the second person whose orders he could happily follow.

He's now in your kitchen, your kids quietly playing and doing their own things in the living room. He's dutifully waiting for your orders, his back straight like he's not a veteran but rather still the hardened soldier he used to be.

As you order him around the kitchen while you both make dinner for you, Ghost, and the kids, he finds himself thinking of how warm your orders are.

Everyone who has ever ordered him around has always been more rough than gentle, yet here you were. You're authoritative, but soft. Your voice doesn't harden with annoyance when he doesn't cut the vegetables the way you told him to.

No, instead, you walk over and gently place your hands on his, showing him how to cute the vegetables exactly the way you want him to. The gentle touch sends a shiver down his spine and your warm smile makes his heart skip a beat.

It's so easy to for him to fall into a rhythm with you despite this being the first time you two have cooked together. You lead him so well and he follows you so well. Like you two were made to do this together.

And when dinner is all done and finished, Ghost sets up the table as you call your kids to eat. He watches with his softened brown eyes as you walk back into the kitchen with a victorious smile, your kids shuffling in behind you.

He feels so warm and cozy as he sits with you and the kids, listening to the kids talk about their day as if he had always been a part of the family. Like this is his home, like he's right where he's meant to be.

Ghost follows orders, but only when he trusts and respects the person giving the orders. And he trusts you so much.

So much so that he has to take a sip of his drink just to stop himself from asking you to marry him right then and there.

Separator made by @une-femme-de-lettres

Okay, so this is short, far too short despite the fact that I took too long to get to this request. However, I'm not going to tear myself down for it.

I got it done and I'm relatively happy with it. And I hope you're happy with it too.

Between you and me, Ghost wanted to propose to DILF!Reader right then and there, but I managed to stop him. If he had his way, this would've ended with him popping the question. 😂

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[bluegalaxygirl]

I love you (Zosan X reader)

Zoro X sanji X reader, polly relationship, established relationship, reader is GN.

Plot: the first time you say I love you.

Warning: swearing, Making out, FLUFF

It's been a few months since you three got together your all still getting used to things but Sanji has been wanting to say something for a while now. he wanted to say it on day one but knew it was too soon for you and Zoro to hear. Sanji made sure everyone ate early, so he could cook a romantic dinner for three. A white table cloth rose petals and freshly cleaned plates laid on the table, three candles on the end being the only light in the room except the kitchen where Sanji was putting the finishing touches on the food. You and Zoro entered the kitchen dressed in nice clothes since Sanji said you had no other chose. The sight before you two was beautiful, Kitchen and dinning room clean, light music playing in the back ground and table set out for three.

Sanji looked up at you two grabbing some wine glasses with one hand and a bottle of red whine in his other "You both look great." Sanji practically glides over to the table places the glasses down and pulling out a chair "Please sit" a small blush forms on your face looking up at Zoro who also seems to have a small blush on his cheeks. Zoro clears his throat before smiling "What's brought this on?" the swordsman asks walking over to the table and sitting in the seat Sanji pulled out for him. You follow watching Sanji pull out another chair for you on the other side of the table, sitting down Sanji starts filling up your glass with wine and then moving to Zoro's. "I just thought the three of us could have a date night of sorts" The cook responds seeming to try and think of an answer to Zoro's question now filling up his own wine glass and putting the cork back on the bottle before setting it down on the table. "Its called lovers Pasta, i hope you like it" the cook calls out moving back to the kitchen and lifting the lid off his pan on the stove, a beautiful smell fills the room, thyme and sage with a hint of peppermint.

Setting the three bowls on the table you realized why it was called lovers pasta, the pasta was in heart shapes beautifully cooked with vegetables and red sauce topped with a single thyme leaf. "It looks great Sanji" you smile not wanting to dig in due to the foods beauty. "Why thank you my love" Sanji finally sits at the head of the table watching both your reactions. "Did you make the pasta?" Zoro asks taking a piece of heart shaped pasta on his fork looking it over, "Yes i did. i tried fining some but their hard to find so i thought i would just make it myself" the cooks face lite up at both your comments glad that he made you both happy with his cooking. Both you and Zoro take a bite of food, the taste hit you like a bullet it was better than anything you have ever tasted in your life, its weird though, its like you can taste the love Sanji put into it. a hum of pleasure left yours and Zoro's mouths surprising each other with your reactions. "So I'm guessing that means you both like it." the cook asks braking you both out of trance "Its amazing" Zoro nods placing a hand on the cooks on top of the table "It really is Sanji, well done" you complement leaning over to place a kiss on the cooks cheek.

Sanji's heart could burst at this moment, the two of you loving his food, the romantic environment and loving looks form you two made it hard not to blurt out those three words, but he managed to hold back, for now at least. The three of you ate, drank, laughed and talked about your day. The three of you could be so open with each other, none of you judged but you would tease each other about things. With the food finished Sanji took the plates and put them in the sink getting something out the fridge and bringing over another bottle of wine. "And the piece la resistance" Sanji said with a flourish placing a plate down in the middle of the table revealing a large glass with lays of white and milk chocolate, cream and strawberries, around the plate were full strawberries that has been dipped in chocolate. "You know just how to spoil us" you comment looking down at the amazing desert in front of you. A chuckle caught your attention looking up at Zoro who had a long spoon in his hand "One spoon? i think i know where your going with this" Sanji seemed to blush, sort of glad he didn't have to explain anything. "Yea i.. i thought it would be nice" the cook fills your glasses up again with wine before sitting down, Zoro dug the spoon into the glass scooping out some chocolate, cream and a strawberry before turning the spoon to Sanji, the blush on Sanji's face got darker at this but leaned forward and places his lips over the spoon taking the food and pulling away "Taste good?" Zoro asks leaning his cheek on the back of his hand looking at the cook with love "Yes" Sanji swallows looking into Zoro's eyes. You reach over catching Sanji by surprise when you wipe your thumb over the corner of his lip, wiping away the chocolate that was left behind. Zoro and Sanji watch as you bring your thumb up to your lips and lick the chocolate off. "Your right it does taste good"

Zoro puts the spoon back in the glass taking out more chocolate and reaching over the table to feed you. You gladly take the food off the spoon closing your eyes and humming at how nice it is before feeling a tongue lick up the side of your lips, Zoro leans back in his chair with a smile licking his lips after getting the left over chocolate off your lips. Sanji couldn't look away, you two are so attractive and when you do stuff like that, it makes his heart flutter. "Thank you" you lean foreward taking a chocolate covered strawberry and leaning over the table to feed Zoro. The swordsman bites down on the strawberry close to your finger tips not breaking eye contact with you. The strawberry juice falling down his chin and into the hand you placed underneath to stop the table form getting messy. Once Zoro pulls away Sanji takes your hand and licks up the strawberry juice collected in your hand "Sanji... if you wanted some you should have just asked" you whisper putting down what's left of the strawberry on the plate and picking up another holding it out for your cook to eat. Sanji lets go of your hand and leans over to take a bite of the strawberry only taking half so no juice falls onto the table, you pull the strawberry away and eat the rest twisting it so all thats left is the stem.

"I love you" Sanji let out looking at you catching you off guard before turning to Zoro who also had a surprised look on his face "I love you too Zoro", Silence filled the room only the sound of the light music in the background, you were the first to stand walking closer to Sanji and placing your hands on his cheek leaning down to kiss him. your lips locked as his hands went to your hips his thumbs rubbing your sides, pulling away slowly you place your forehead against his looking into his eyes "I love you too Sanji" your words sparked joy in the cook's heart grabbing your thighs forcing you to sit on his lap and crashing his lips onto yours asking for entrance with his tongue running against your lower lip, you gladly excepted now feeling another pair of hand slide past your hips and land on Sanji's, Zoro's chest pressed up against your back as he reached over to place his lips on Sanji's neck kissing it all over, a moan left the cooks mouth entering into your before pulling away and looking at the two of you over him. Zoro lifts Sanji's chin up with his thumb and index finger leaning down to kiss the cook, their lips locking and moving together as Zoro's tongue made his way into Sanji's mouth, you move to the said a little letting Zoro get a better angle but his hand moved to your side stopping you form going anywhere. The swordsman pulls away a line of saliva still between his and Sanji's mouths "I love you Sanji" Zoro finally speaks before placing his lips on your neck breathing in your scent "I love you Y/N" you reached a hand up and ran your fingers threw his green hair getting him to pull away form your neck "I love you Zoro" you whispered placing your lips on his, his tongue shoving into your mouth both of you groaning your head tilting back to get a better angle on Zoro's lips.

Sanji leans forward kissing your neck his hand linking with Zoro's hand thats on your hip and his other hand rubbing Zoro's hip. You and the swordsman brake apart breathless but happy. Sanji leans back against his chair eyes full of love and a happy smile on his face "I love you both so much" he couldn't get enough of saying it or hearing it, it was like a dream come true, the two people he loved most in this world loved him back, and he hoped it would stay that way forever.

[bonbonchocolates]

Twins

Yandere Taehyung x Reader

Summary: Something is off with your husband today......

Warnings: twins tae, yandere tae, obsessive behaviour, smut (not descriptive), dumb Y/N

A/N: Again originally from my Wattpad account. I hope you like it and if you do please make sure to leave a like.

Masterlist

____________________________________________

Your Pov:

"Byy Tae"

"Come back soon"

I bid my husband.

"Will do, Jagi"

He said before getting into his car and driving off.

I went back inside our house and decided to do the house chores.

Yes, I am a housewife.

Though I had dreams to do something great in life but I decided to be a housewife after marriage. There's two reasons for that. First, my husband earned more than enough for two people. So there won't be any financial problems even if I have kids in the future. Second, I'm too lazy to go and work outside.

_________________________________________

After 2 hours:

I  finally completed all the cleaning and cooking. Now I just wanted to relax.

I went and sat on the couch and was about to switch on the tv to watch the latest episode of your favourite kdrama. Actually it was yesterday's episode that I missed due to my lovely husband. When suddenly I heard the sound of my phone ringing.

I hurriedly got my phone that was kept in the table right beside the couch you were sitting on. I looked at the caller id and my face immediately lighted up. I quickly picked up the call.

You:"Mochi"

I shouted on the phone.

Jimin:Y/N

           How are you?

You: I'm good and how are you?

         How is work?

Jimin: I am fine and work is great too.

           How is your married life?

He teased.

This way we talked for about an hour. Unbelievable, right? But we are talking to each other after a month. Actually Jimin is my first best friend. We have been friends since we were in diapers. He is currently in the US for his job. Truth to be said I am happy for him but I miss him a lot. I hope we can meet soon.

While talking to him I didn't realise the time it was afternoon and I still didn't had my lunch. I then quickly ate my lunch and cleaned the dishes.

The same morning I got a call from my mother. She said she misses me very much. So I decided to visit her today. So for the same reason I got ready and left for my parents' house.

____________________________________________

9:00 PM:

I hurriedly reached my home because it was too late. I know that Taehyung must be home by now. I didn't even cook dinner for him. He must be waiting for me.

But when I reached home I found that the main door was locked from outside as I left it. That means he is still not back home now.

Strange.

Maybe he has extra work to do.

I opened my purse, took out the key and opened the door. I got inside the house.

Once I changed my dress, I began cooking.

____________________________________________

1 hour later:

I was finally done with the dinner but Taehyung was still not back from work. I was getting worried for him.

He is always back at eight but today he is two hours late. I quickly dialled Taehyung's number but it told that it is unreachable. I called him a few more times and got the same reply.

I just hoped that wherever he is, he is ok.

I then decided to call Jin Oppa to know that if Tae is still at his workplace. I was about to call him when I heard the sound of the doorbell.

I rushed to the door and opened it. It was Tae. I finally sighed in relief. He came inside without a single word.

"Where were you Tae? Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Ohh... sorry for that, darling. Actually I had extra work to do today. I promise to come home early next time."

Darling, he never calls me that.

"Let me change my clothes."

He said before going towards the store room.

Wait, story room. Why is he going there to change his clothes?

"Tae our room is upstairs."

"Ohh right."

He then took a u turn and went up the stairs.

Why is he behaving so strangely now? He was ok before going to work. Maybe work pressure.

I followed him upstairs and reached our room and found him in his white shirt with his half coat discarded on the floor.

I picked it up, folded it and kept it.

I was just admiring him when I noticed a red stain on his white shirt.

"Wait.. Tae, what is that?"

"What?"

He looked confusedly.

"This"

I pointed towards the red stain on his stirt. As soon as he understood what I was talking about, his face turned pale.

"Ah..ohh t-this it-its nothing. It's ju-st ketchup. Y-ye-yeah ketchup. "

He shuttered.

"Ok come down, I'm serving dinner."

I left from there and came downstairs. There was only one thing going on in my mind.

Why is Tae behaving so weirdly?

____________________________________________

It was around midnight when I  woke up as I felt some weird sensations. I opened my eyes and found that we both were naked. Tae was kissing and biting my neck hungrily while thrusting inside me.

"Tae..ahh"

You moaned.

"Not Tae, darling. It's V"

I didn't pay any attention to him. I felt myself getting close to my high.

"Say V, darling, say it"

"V"

I moaned as I reached my high. He didn't stoped and still went on.Today he felt more muscular than before. I don't know how.

"Now I finally have you, darling. I don't even have to worry about my twin brother."

He said with increasing his pace.

"Tae, what are you saying?"

I was confused now.

"Yes darling, I am not Tae but I'm his twin brother V and now you are finally mine. Forever"

_________________________________________

Borahae 💜

[toffee-and-tandoori]

omg al @osaka-lilac literally tagged me for this game back in june 2023 and i literally just finished it lmao! i wanted to give myself ample time to write thorough answers to these questions and kept on procrastinating on it as a result - so sorry!

1. are you named after anyone?

in a way yes! my middle name (elizabeth) is from my paternal great-grandmother. but it's also my mother's saint name. and since my last name is my father's first name (since our culture uses patronyms), i carry the name of both my mother and my father - this was a very intentional choice by my parents! i think it's super cool and because of that i will never change my name :)

2. when was the last time you cried?

last tuesday? which honestly is impressive for me since i tend to be a crier - it's probably because i've been on a scheduled month-long break from medical school.

anyways i cried because my mother was being pretty careless and tried to lift all of our bowls over her head to put them back in our cupboard (it hasn't been formally diagnosed but she definitely has some neuropathy in her hands). she dropped a ton of bowls, they shattered, and i accidentally stepped on a ceramic shard.

the crying was a mixture of the pain from stepping on this shard, my frustration at my mother for being so careless (since my dad and i often have to tell my mother not to do potentially dangerous things in the kitchen), and fear of my dad's reaction (i have a...complex relationship with my dad - i love him but he definitely has anger management and abandonment issues stemming from childhood).

no worries though! my mother felt REALLY horrible about what happened and effectively got scared straight into being more careful in the kitchen - my frustration resolved pretty quickly since i know it was an accident. also my dad's reaction ended up being a lot better than i thought (mostly since he was in the middle of a meeting and could only leave his home office hours after it happened). finally the cuts i sustained were pretty minor and are healing up very nicely!

3. do you have kids?

nope! i do want to have a kid or two eventually but not for at least 10 years!

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

not really? i’m bad with detecting sarcasm a lot when it’s subtle but when you do the whole fake voice thing, then i get it. idk if it’s just the overanalyzer in me or what.

5. what sports have you/do you play?

the closest thing i've done to playing a sport is probably marching band for three years in high school.

oh and i very briefly took ballet classes when i was 7 or 8 years old! i don't really count it though since i quit after 3 months and really didn't do any actual dancing during my time - ballet really wasn't for me!

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

how tall they are since i am almost certainly looking up at them!

7. scary movies or happy endings?

i don't mind a psychological thriller movie (although i will probably watch it peeking through my fingers - i am horrible with jump scares!) and i love movies/documentaries that really allow me to reflect on uncomfortable truths. at my core though i'm an absolute sucker for a happy ending <3

8. any special talents?

uhhh does being able to pick things up with my toes count? otherwise...remembering people's birthdays?

9. where were you born?

i'll keep it vague to avoid doxxing myself and say i was born and raised in the midwestern united states! i moved to a neighboring state for college but then moved back to my hometown for medical school. <3

10. what are your hobbies?

besides curating this blog, i love listening to music, watching documentaries and cooking videos, reading/writing poetry and short stories. whenever i have the time AND motivation, i also bake and play the clarinet and piano!

11. do you have any pets?

unfortunately, i do not have any pets :(

12. how tall are you?

5'0'' (or 152.5 cm) - i'm quite short!

13. fave subject in school?

as i've been mentioning in all of my psychiatry residency interviews, taking ap psychology during my senior year of high school changed the course of my life - i hadn't been exposed to the study of psychology in any substantial capacity before that moment and it was love at first sight (of my textbook). that one class inspired me to major in psychology and set me on the path i'm on now.

14. dream job?

i am actively working towards becoming a psychiatrist! at this time i'm trying to determine if i want to work with child and adolescents (as that would require me to do a two-year fellowship) or if i would feel fulfilled just working with young adults.

15. eye color?

a very dark brown - almost black!

at this point (literally a year and a half after i was tagged lmao) i'm effectively re-starting the game so i'll tag @roscoehamiltons @lil-shiro @comraderoscoes @userkritaaay @lafaerie and anyone else who wants to do this. no pressure as always and if you do end up doing this, please feel free to take all the time you need (i would be a hypocrite if i said otherwise) <3

[flyingwargle]

bokuto hasn't been home in a month because of a series of away games, but he finally gets the chance when the team's last match is in tokyo before a four-day break. he waves goodbye to his teammates as they board the bus that'll bring them back to osaka and turns to walk toward the nearest train station.

"keiji! i'm home!" bokuto shouts as he enters the apartment. a flurry of footsteps follows, and his boyfriend appears in the hallway.

"welcome back, kou." akaashi's still in his pajamas, bedhead unruly, tired eyes bright with love as he approaches to embrace him, lithe arms wrapping around his waist. "i thought you weren't going to be back until tonight?"

"we managed to finish the team meeting last night, so the others left this morning. you're still in your pjs!"

"not for long. i have to leave for a meeting soon."

bokuto pulls back to frown at him. "it's a weekend! are you overworking again?"

"i know, but my seniors want me to meet a mangaka that's visiting. he lives in ibaraki and doesn't come to tokyo often." akaashi gives him a reassuring smile. "it won't be for long, i promise."

they enter the bedroom - bokuto to put his bag down and change into sweats, akaashi to change from pajamas to business casual. they head into the living room, where bokuto immediately sees changes from the last time he was home. "i forgot you redecorated!"

the changes are subtle - akaashi's desk is closer to the window, the couch pushed further away from the brand new tv. another new addition are the low shelves along the wall, countless framed photos adorning the surface, manga volumes crowding the rows. all are udai's works.

bokuto kneels and pulls out the first volume of mateo attack, the protagonist drawn in his full splendor on the cover. "did you buy these?"

"no, the printing press gave them to me. these are the first editions, so there may be printing errors that make them unsuitable to sell. i offered to take them instead of recycling them." akaashi sips his coffee. "you haven't read mateo attack yet, have you?"

"i didn't have time," bokuto says sheepishly. he's been saying he would, ever since it began serialization. "but now i do! it's better than just sitting around while you're gone."

he places the first five volumes on the coffee table and settles on the couch with the first one, pulling the blanket over his lap, arranging the pillows behind him. when was the last time he read like this? contrary to popular belief, bokuto does read by listening to audiobooks, morning runs and long commutes accompanied by tales of fantastical worlds and thrilling plots. the team has a bi-monthly book club (since that's how long it takes for them to finish a book), where they alternate between fiction and nonfiction. only one manga series has been recommended so far, a tragic yaoi oneshot that ended in unrequited love. everyone called their significant others afterwards, bokuto included. atsumu just laughed at them, and then cried. hinata comforted him.

"should we cook tonight?" akaashi asks from the kitchen. "or should we go out?"

"let's go on a date! wasn't there this sushi restaurant nearby you wanted to try?"

"i'd like that. i can call later to put in a reservation. the quality is above standard, so we'll need to dress appropriately."

it sounds like a pointed comment, but bokuto brushes it off. he has all day to style his hair and put on something that isn't polyester. "what time will you be done?"

"no later than three. we can eat at six?"

"okay! i'll just read, maybe go for a walk and find lunch later. mya-saam opened his shop nearby, right?"

"two stops away, just outside of the station. i can text you directions."

"i know how to use google, keiji!"

his boyfriend chuckles. "he's usually here on the weekends. i'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

as he turns to finish cleaning, bokuto settles down and opens the first volume. in his youth, he followed quite a few manga series but never finished them. maybe this will be the one that he'll see through all the way.

the art is pretty cool. the story is also about an underdog player who strives to win nationals in volleyball, which makes it better. he flips through, following the panels, making sure to appreciate the details before he moves to the next page.

it isn't long before his eyes grow heavy, and he loses focus. he blames the strenuous routine that he had for the last month catching up to him. lowering the book over his face, he lowers his arms across his chest, closing his eyes.

silence washes over him. slippers slide over the hardwood floor. a presence approaches, quiet and affectionate. the blanket slides over his upper body. the barest chuckle tickles the air around him. "i'm heading out now."

there's a kiss on the book over his face. then, in a whisper, "i love you. see you soon."

his footsteps retreat. a few minutes later, the front door opens and closes. that's when bokuto lets his blush overwhelm him, pressing the book against his face, kicking the couch like an overexcited high school boy.

that's who he is, though. keiji isn't the most affectionate person in the world, limiting his touches and love declarations. instead, he shows it through his tone, how he gently scolds bokuto for skimping on nutrition or going too hard on weights. he shows it by diligently picking up his call, no matter the time of day, and asking if he's eaten. he shows it by watching his games, wearing his jersey, proudly telling everyone that he's bokuto koutarou's boyfriend.

and bokuto is damn lucky to have him. he closes the book to press his lips where keiji did, smiling to himself. he's looking forward to tonight.

--

inspiration: this fanart of bokuto reading meteo attack!

[beautifulchris]

trainwreck

pairing: choi lia x gn!reader

summary: sometimes, relationships are meant to end

genres: angst, lovers to exes!au, good ending?

wc: 1,1k

tw: lia is a bad girlfriend, swearing

notes: hello everyone! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics (ignore the mentions of a dress and 'boy'), banner made by me on canva. also!! idk if you'll notice, but this one is also based on two other songs from anne-marie c: happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You meant to say this for a while now, and today was the day you finally gathered the courage to verbalize the thought.

“What do you mean?”

The words that flew past her lips were nonchalant, like she was completely relaxed. Sitting up, she had her arms and legs crossed and a seemingly emotionless face. At least, that was the face you knew she made when unimpressed.

“I mean… that I want to break up with you.”

In contrast, you were so nervous you could feel your heart hammer in your chest, and sweat was running down the sides of your face. Her reaction didn’t ease you either.

“Okay.”

Was it all you meant to her? After everything, it looked like it didn’t faze her at all. Saying you weren’t hurt would be a lie.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What? Did you think I’d get on my knees begging you to stay? If you want to leave, go, the door’s wide open” she stated as she gestured towards the front door of her apartment. “I’ll wait for you to come back. Cause I know you will eventually. You know what? I give you two weeks at most.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did those hostile yet detached words really left her lips effortlessly?

You grabbed your bag and left her place without delay, whispering to yourself: “I won’t.”

Choi Lia has been an important person in your life, yes.

You loved her intensely and sincerely for many months, but soon, mostly thanks to your friends, you started to acknowledge the little details. Minimal at first, but, over time, they grew bigger until you couldn’t ignore them anymore.

She’d look into your phone whenever you’d leave the room without it, subtly mock you in front of her friends, cancel numerous dates to go to parties instead, order take-away when she was aware you cooked for her…

You always put up with it because you loved her, but letting her go, albeit painful, was the best thing you could’ve done for your own health.

Called up my friends, took their advice Put on a dress, I'm out tonight I can't believe I said goodbye Oh yeah, this time you know, I finally let you go, yeah

It had been three days since you put an end to the relationship. Of course your friends would take you out on a Friday night.

The party was chill. There were around twenty people, refreshing cocktails, good background music and board games.

Lia didn’t come to mind once, much to the delight of your dear friends. 

You actually made some new acquaintances, which was nice.

Spending more time with your friends, they saw the difference in your behavior.

“You look happier, Y/N,” one of them informed you.

“You smile and laugh more, you seem more alive,” another one added.

You felt it, too. You felt free from her. Her claws. Her grip on you.

I don't know why you thought that I'd be sheddin' a tear When I'm chillin' at the party, and I'm glad you're not here And I don't know what to say, but the pain disappeared And I'm sorry Bet you think I'm a trainwreck, upset Friday night, layin' lonely in my bed Truth is, boy, I'm so fuckin' happy Without you

Life went on.

A month later, Lia was on her couch, a drink in hand. It was dark in her apartment.

“Why haven't they come back already?”

She was fidgeting, her lips pressed together and her brows furrowed.

“They should’ve been back by now.”

Her phone rang in the deafening silence, making her flinch. Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Of course, Y/N would call instead of coming unannounced.”

She answered the phone with a confident smirk, ready to hear your begging.

“I put all your stuff in a bag. Do you have a moment this week so we could trade?”

Lia’s smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

“Also, don’t forget to give me back the keys to my place. I feel uneasy knowing you still have them. Not like you came often, anyway.”

It was her turn to be too stunned to speak. How could you be so apathetic? It wasn’t like you to use this tone when talking to her. She stared at the wall with an open mouth.

“I’ll wait for your message, then. Hanging up.”

Before Lia could protest, the call was over. She sat there, not moving for a while, thoughts twirling in her mind.

So pour yourself another drink Sit on your couch and overthink In all your lies and arrogance, I've been alright, you know So glad you let me go, yeah

Your ex-girlfriend finally gave you a time and place to meet. Without much surprise, it was at her place. Seeing her again after so long was not as painful as you thought it would be—not as painful as Lia hoped it would be.

She had to face the fact you changed. You weren’t the easily manipulated, sweetly naive and blindly in love person anymore. Much to her dismay.

“Here,” you handed her the bag, expecting another one in return.

Instead, she took a step back and offered for you to come in. “Want something to drink?”

“No?” With furrowed brows, you crossed your arms. “Give me back my stuff, please.”

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

You tilted your head, tapping your chin with your free index finger. “As a matter-of-fact, no, I don’t. I just want my stuff and leave this place forever.”

“Well… I…” Not finding anything concrete to say, she sighed loudly. 

Reluctantly, she grabbed the bag from the ground behind her and put the handle on your outstretched hand, before taking hers out of your other hand.

“You don’t mind me checking, right?”

She slowly shook her head, eyes unfocused, even if you didn’t wait for her approval. The key was there, that was all you cared about. Wait, no, there was a cute outfit you forgot about, too.

You thanked her and left. She called out for you, but you didn’t turn around. “Erase my number!”

It wasn’t said with a negative tone, but Lia took it like a stab in the back. Which was really audacious coming from her.

She just couldn’t believe you left her without a second thought and didn’t come back like she was convinced you would.

And now we're at the final stop And I'm the one that's gettin' off I know you hope I'm cryin', but I'm doin' just fine

She was now part of your past. Unerasable, of course, but peaceful.

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated :) masterlist

[nebel-ist-fur-alle-da]

"Can you hear me say your name forever"

Doctor Octavius x Reader

Summary: you've been kidnapped by doc ock to be his new assistant. You had a crush on him, when he was a professor and married, but then life happened, for both of you; today, you are not sure he is the same man you once knew... or is he?

Genre: angst, past trauma

The third chapter is here, my dudes and dudettes!!

It's been a rough month: I started my first job, I am finally graduating after years of studying and suffering and struggling. I might have found a road that I want to pursue. I don't think it will be my only path, I like to keep my options open, but I finally love what I have started (even though it can be hard) for the first time.

But now, lets get down to business! PART 2: Here

Update, a year later:

So, it's been a year! I landed my first job, I graduated AND I managed to finally live in the city! Am I living the dream my 16ish year old had? Maybe.

I definitely am more happy and somehow my life is coming out as something worth experiencing and living, and I really can say, for maybe the first time ever, that I am content.

But enough about me, finally the third chapter is here, written while I was technically working but when the inspiration knoks, you have to answer.

Enjoy ❤

You woken up to the sound of broken glass and forniture smashing. Your sleep was usually bad, but you barely slept in two days and this could no longer go on.

Feeling already your lower back protesting, you slowly approached the door, mentally planning how to address this situation. Knowing that the doctor is sometimes a bit unstable, you really want to risk your face for a tantrum? What if there was spiderman behind that door? She wanted to be free, didn't she?

Your hands trembled on the doorknob, pondering. Then, suddenly, all the noise stopped. After the longest count to ten ever existed, you open the door, fear and curiosity mixing in a strange way, making your body shiver even thought it wasn't could outside. You pulled the door and a galaxy of little glass pieces was waiting for your feet. The room was a mess, chairs everywhere with broken lab instruments and stuff. You put on your boots, preparing yourself to enter this mess, knowing that you could've just closed the door, none of it was your problem. Behind a table you saw the professor laying on the floor, his metal arms lying still at his side, and blood covering his hands.

"Doc" you carefully touch his shoulder, feeling the warm skin underneath. 'So he is warm after all'.

Suddenly, you hear him snoring. That's the most human thing he has done in days. Feeling a bit of tension fading away, you burst into a laugh, unable to stop. Otto slowly opens his eyes, but you find yourself unable to stop, and your soft laugh becomes hysterical, your vision blurred from tears.

"What's going on?" His imposing voice full the room.

"I-" You try to answer, but you can't stop laughing, and you can't tell if it's because you are amused by this insane situation.

Probably not.

A pot of emotions was slowly cooking for days, and somehow they found a way out.

"Why are you crying?" His voice was demanding, but a hint of apprehension was there.

"Really, I don't know" 'liar' you instantly think. You were scared to death by this situation, but you would gladly die instead of saying this in front of him, out loud. You had realized, before opening that door, that you were concerned and scared for him, but also because of him. You were falling, really was that simple but also terrifying. You know he doesn't believe you, but he slowly put his hands on your arms, almost scared you would run away.

"I did all this, didn't I?"

You nod.

"Usually, I wait for this episodes with joy, because my arms stay asleep for hours. I missed this silence in my head".

He briefly looked at his metal arms, permanently fused with his body. Your eyes linger on his chest, his scars, his hands stroking slowly your arms.

"I'm sorry" he whispers, his voice breaking.

You don't know how to respond.

"I'll take you back home" his hands grabbing your arms "now, before they wake up"

Your eyes goes back up, widening.

You want to speak, but he is already putting you on your feet.

"Doc" you try to speak, at least say something.

"What was I thinking? So much of a genius, and I take these decisions"

All you can think was that when a villain doesn't want you. Nobody wants you.

You already knew this, but every time someone reminds you of this, you die a little bit more inside.

Also, you were so sleep deprived that something breaks and you start crying, again.

Could this situation be more pathetic?

"You can't say here. It's not safe and it's not right for you" Otto kept saying while you were crying. The fact is that in your sad pathetic life this was the most terrifying and exciting thing that happened to you in a while. How sad your life must be?

You tried to keep it all inside.

"Doc I have literally nowhere to go. You saw my life and I suspect you choose me specifically for this. No one would come looking for me".

As much as those words hurt, they were true. Despite all his good intentions, he couldn't replicate to that logic. He could've be your best option to turn your life around, even thought he's one of the most dangerous man alive.

He stayed silent for a very long time, thinking about possible answers to yous situation. Eventually, he was defeated.

"As much as it pains me to admit this... you are right, and I am so sorry" you looked him in the eyes, and you could tell he was sincere. Not having a cacophony of voices in your head makes his face much more softer, and you could tell. But that moment soon vanished, and a new, heavy thought entered his synapses.

"I should be more careful with my children, they could be quite persuasive on a feeble mind. I must not hurt you, ever again" he took your hands, and you noticed for the first time that yours vanished inside his palms.

"Please, don't let me hurt you. Run instead if I can't no longer control myself"

You nodded, feeling a strange feeling in your gut. Something hot slowly pooling inside you. Just one simple touch of his hands, the intimate situation just passed... your mind started racing the second he looked you in the eyes, but you never dared to even master a thought like that.

And now, just like that, your body betrays you.

He was still looking in your eyes, hands hot on yours, his digits slowly brushing your skin. You looked down.

"I promise you that if things go our of hands, I will try to run. It might help me to have spider man number, you know?"

Your old weapon works again: in the blink of a eye you manage to shift the doctors attention from you to that spiderman dude, flying around and making a mess.

"Why would you want his number?" His eyes dark and illegible.

"You know, if things got out of hand... that's all, I promise" you chuckle, trying to keep the moment light.

He gave you a tiny smile, scoffing. "I really don't know what your generation is up to these days" he let go of your hands, trying to stood up.

"Well, If you want to stay here, the first thing you could do is tide up this mess"

"Excuse me?!"

"You know, my arms are stuck like this, they will wake up tonight" he raised his palms in apology.

"So your saying that on top of being an old scientist who is always complaining about younger generations, you are also useless?" You teased him.

His eyes darkened, his smile became a smirk.

"Watch your mouth, young lady. I may be temporary useless, but my mind works just fine"

You mutter an apology and start to clean up while he tried to balance his steel weight on a chair.

The morning flew like this, you trying to not cut yourself with all that glass from lab equipment and him gently reminding you that you missed a spot.

By 12,30 you were ready to kill him.

"Listen up doc, I am tired and hungry, so if you want to clean so badly that spot, YOU SHOULD DO IT YOURSELF" the last bit was just a scream, but he laughed.

"I strained you, didn't I? Let's make something to eat"

You rolled your eyes.

"You mean that I should make something to eat, because you are just a big tin of metal arms stuck in place"

"Hey, there is no need to be rude" he replied, and you could tell he was slightly offended and hurt by the situation. You, on the other hand, was not.

"Hope you fancy some curry with chickpeas, because that's the best thing I can make like this"

He smiled politely. "I will not eat that disgusting thing even if you make me"

"I beg your pardon? The master has requests, I presume" you bowed.

You were looking at the floor for two seconds, but for him it was enough. When you come up, his face was inch from yours, sporting a

mischievous grin. His eyes looked more dark and sharp, and you froze right there.

"Did you have fun joking about me this morning?" He asked, his voice deep and low.

You tried to speak, but your throat was suddenly dry. You just shook your head.

"OH darling, I think you did" his smile widened. "You see, my arms are made from a perfect material, resistant but weights like a feather" he gently brushed your cheek, his eyes lingering over your face and neck.

You felt all your blood rushing to your face but you were unable to even think about a clever response.

"Do you still trust me?" He asks.

You gathered all your energies in that answer.

"Yes"

"Then you are a fool" his hand reached your neck, gently squeezing. "I could simply decide you are nothing, and break you. In my endless research of perfection, I could hurt you. Is this the type of man you would like to assist?"

During this few words, his grip tightened. You could only master the breath to say 'yes' one more time.

He lets you go and air returns in your lungs. You take big gulps of air, still looking him in his eyes. You know that if you stop, this moment will never return and will be simply forgotten as part of this mad day.

"For a person this smart, this is a pretty bad decision" he lowered his sight. "Just... stay out of my arms reach, ok?"

You mentally ask yourself how long is in fact his arms reach, but you stay silent. You just nod.

He gives you a sad smile.

"Now, lets fix you something to eat that doesn't have strange spices in it, shall we?"

[starry-blue-echoes]

so it has been. Literal months since I last talked about Neutral Ground but a Thought just hit me with all the subtly and delicacy of a brick and I can’t get it out of my head

so after Tonio adopts Giorno, he’s definitely going to be MUCH more aware of the danger Passione presents. Yes he knows he technically has a deal going with the Boss and Doppio, but this is the fucking mafia and he now has a kid who could be put in danger. No matter how much protection they given them, someone is always going to be after them for their connections ad Tonio isn’t going to risk his child’s safety for his mistakes

so what if he starts preparing to leave. Not obviously, of course, he treats this with more delicacy and secrecy than the most valuable ingredients because he CANNOT afford to fuck this up. It takes months of meticulous planning, of covering his tracks, of ensuring that no matter what they'll be safe. Money thankfully isn't an issue, and he and Giorno don't really have anyone to worry about leaving behind.

(and if Tonio at some point asks Giorno if he could visit any place in the world and the boy responded "Japan" well that was just an innocent question for curiosities sake)

Then finally the day comes. With all of their most important essentials packed, they flee Italy, and after taking a VERY long roundabout route filled with more fake names and IDs than either can fully remember, they make it to Morioh, Japan

The first couple years are very anxious, paranoia filled ones. Months of looking over their shoulder, of not unpacking their bags, of working small part time jobs and keeping their distance from the locals

but then they start to relax. They start to get more comfortable. They unpack their bags, Giorno starts to make friends with the neighbors, Tonio starts cooking again and even starts making plans to open a new restaurant

sure there's a small hiccup when the issue of Kira pops up, but they gain so much more in return. A community, other people with abilities, a support network they can trust, and eventually their family of two becomes one of four with the addition of Okuyasu and Stray Cat

Life is good and they're happy

but of course, not all good things can last

Passione finds them. They don't know how, but one day Okuyasu and Giorno come home to find the restaurant trashed, their home destroyed, and Tonio on the floor battered and beaten and bloody, on death's door yet just barely clinging to life

They'd had a feeling this was coming, and yet they'd allowed themselves to grow complacent

Logically, Giorno knew they should run. That Morioh wasn't safe anymore, that Passione would come for them again, that they needed to leave before any more damage was done

but they had a life here. Giorno had friends, a family, people he cared about and selfishly didn't want to leave behind. Morioh had been the happiest he, the happiest Tonio, had been in years. He'd seen his papa laugh and smile and sing, when he cooked he swayed and hummed, such a stark opposite to the methodical silence when he cooked in Italy

And Giorno was angry. Angry that Passione tried taking this away from them, tried killing his father who wanted nothing more than to live a quiet life in peace, tried tearing apart the family his father had built with his bare, bloody hands

he wasn't going to let that stand

and well....... Okuyasu certainly isn't going to let his little brother do this on his own :)

Giorno has the calculating mind, Okuyasu has the raw power, and both are fueled by protective vengeance. Needless to say, Italy was not ready for these two

(also this is. Completely separate from what I was talking about but as I was thinking I wanted to possibly experiment with somehow putting Volpe into the AU, since he's Tonio's little brother in the Purple Haze Feedback novel and also part of Passione and according to the wiki is resentful of his brother for his choices. I'm not fully sure, I just think it would be neat and add a bit of fun and some conflict.

Maybe Volpe was one of the people Diavlo sent after Tonio after doing a bit of digging and learning about their connect? Maybe there was a bit of non consensual drugging, which led to Tonio being landed in the hospital in a way that Crazy D couldn't fix and could then lead to Giorno and Okuyasu's loathing of drugs and add more to the desire for revenge upon learning that guy was their uncle)

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 4: Dinner and Breakfast

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

After washing your hands, you walked back outside to see the firepit was lit and some of the cowboys were sitting around eating. You saw Jake standing to the side and walked over to him.

He smiled when he saw you.

"How come you're not eating?" you asked.

"I was waiting for you," he replied, extending his hand towards the buffet table.

You took a plate and began loading it up with food. At the far end of the table, you spotted Griff with a large pot, most likely his renowned barbecue.

"Ms. Y/N," Griff greeted with a nod as you approached him. "It's wonderful to have you back."

You smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Griff."

Griff turned to Jake. "Well, if it isn't Jake Seresin. How've you been? It's been, what, a few months?"

You glanced at Jake.

"Something like that, Griff," Jake responded with a grin.

The two of you made your way to an empty hay bale and settled in.

"A few months?" you ask.

"Yeah. I try to make it back when I can. It's good to get away from the base every now and then."

"I can imagine," you replied, taking a bite of your barbecue sandwich. You set it back down on the plate and glanced at Jake. "I do miss this kind of food from time to time."

Jake smiled. "I can see that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've got a little something on your lip right there," he pointed out, reaching over to gently wipe your mouth.

You couldn't help but smile at Jake's gesture, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and warmth. "Thanks."

He grinned. "No problem."

The conversation flowed easily after that, as you and Jake caught up on each other's lives, sharing stories and laughing together. It was strange, but in a good way, to feel this connection with him again after so long.

"It's been a long day," Jake finally said and you looked at him.

"Yeah. I guess it has." You stood up. "Let's get you home."

The two of you went and threw your garbage into the trash can, headed to your rental truck and got in. You started the truck and began driving.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Jake asks.

You shrugged. "I'm not sure. Whatever needs to be done around here, I guess."

"You want to go for a ride?"

You looked at him. "Sure."

"It was really nice seeing you again."

"You too."

The drive back was filled with a comfortable silence, the occasional hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop. As you pulled up to the house, Jake turned to you with a smile.

"Thanks for today, Y/N. It was really great."

You returned the smile. "You can thank my brother for that, but likewise."

Jake opened the door, stepped out of the truck and headed towards his parents house. Watching him go, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. Today had been unexpected, but in the best possible way. You looked forward to whatever tomorrow might bring.

The next morning, you woke up, got dressed and headed to the kitchen where James sat at the island drinking coffee and reading a paper and Griff was cooking.

"I didn't think newspapers existed anymore," you said as you poured yourself a cup of coffee.

"I didn't think you and Jake Seresin would ever get back together, but here we are."

You met James's gaze. "We're not together. We've just been catching up."

"Uh huh," James responded, taking another sip of his coffee.

Just then, the door swung open, revealing Jake along with his sister Leslie.

"Oh my God! Y/N!" Leslie exclaimed, rushing towards you with excitement, and the two of you shared a tight embrace. You looked at Jake.

"Sorry. When she heard you were home, she insisted on driving me over."

Leslie parted from you and looked at you. "Exactly. Don't blame him."

"I won't," you responded.

"It is so good to see you. Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?"

You and Leslie had been best friends since elementary school, and she had been heartbroken when you moved to Alaska, but she understood.

Leslie glanced from you to Jake and then back to you.

"You know what, forget I asked that. I'll talk to you later. Bye James," she said before heading out the door.

"Here you go, Ms. Y/N," Griff said placing a basket on the kitchen island.

"Thank you, Griff."

"You want some breakfast since you just got up? I've got some eggs and bacon."

"Sure."

"Jake? What about you?"

"I'd love some. Thank you."

Griff prepared some plates for the two of you and set them down on the island. As he did, James folded his paper and stood up.

"I've got to go check on the guys. Could you check the north fence today?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks," he said and went out the door.

Griff wiped his hands on his apron. "I've got to go answer that call," he said, then swiftly left the kitchen.

You and Jake exchanged puzzled looks.

"Alrighty then," you said, starting to eat.

When you finished, you placed your dish in the dishwasher along with Jake's and grabbed the basket.

"You ready?"

"Yeah. Let's go get the horses saddled and ride out."

The two of you headed out the door and to the barn.