#until dawn part 1

[realtimefanduboutofcontext]

That one part in Until Dawn part 2 from 49:19 to 49:35

SnapCube's Real-Time Fandub | "Until Dawn - Part 2" (2021) [YouTube]

[wyvernity]

wip posting just to get something out there, and it's def a mixed bag!! the only thing more inconsistent than my posting schedule is my art style RIP

[mini-cheese]

[No Escape until Dawn] Chapter 1

The low hum of machinery and the faint smell of cleaning supplies drifted through the massive halls of the PizzaPlex, a sensory cocktail of fluorescent lights, metal, and plastic that somehow managed to feel suffocating even in its cavernous spaces. As the main lights dimmed to a cool glow signaling closing time, Sunflower—at least, that’s what Sun had started calling her—checked her watch and exhaled. Midnight. The rest of the staff had filed out for the night, but she lingered for a last check of the daycare, locking up the storage closets, switching off the ambient music, and tidying up stray toys.

She’d been working for five months as the Daycare Assistant, as her staff badge proudly read. The idea had seemed quaint when she’d first started, the bright face of the solar bot , his well-rehearsed friendliness. It almost seemed like a joke when she’d been hired to “help him.” But as the echo of her footsteps filled the cavernous lobby as Starlight approached the main gates, her heart sank when she saw the steel shutters already down, the locks in place. She forgot they closed early today, and 9 pm had snuck up too fast. She gave the handle an experimental tug, but it didn’t budge. Her pulse quickened as the reality set in: she was locked inside the Pizzaplex, with no way out until morning.

“Damn it,” she muttered, glancing around the dark, empty lobby. Tonight of all nights? I was supposed to binge the next episode of Arcane.

She exhaled sharply, considering her options. Should she contact management? The thought of explaining herself left a bitter taste in her mouth. The rules were strict, and she’d seen staff get written up for less. She’d heard the stories too—the whispers about employees who simply vanished, their lockers mysteriously emptied by morning. Rumors floated through the break room like ghost stories, tales of staff disappearing after they’d seen something they weren’t supposed to.

She shivered, deciding against calling management. The last thing she wanted was to risk her job for what might just be an accident.

Well, she thought, taking a deep breath, I guess there’s only one place to go. She turned back, her shoes clicking against the cold tile as she made her way down the long, dim fluorescent lit corridors leading back to the daycare. It was a relief, in a way, to have the option. She didn’t know where else she’d feel safe in the vastness of the closed Pizzaplex, with its winding halls and dark corners. At least Sun would be there to keep her company.

When she reached the double doors of the daycare, she took a steadying breath before pushing them open, letting the warmth and light wash over her. And there he was, exactly where she’d left him: Sun, standing in the middle of the colorful play area, his face lighting up the moment he saw her.

“Sunflower!” he greeted, his voice filled with delight as he stretched his arms out toward her, his sun rays spinning in joyful circles. “You came back!”

She chuckled, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. “Looks like I didn’t have much of a choice, Sun. They locked me in.” She sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but the truth was… she felt safe here. Safer than she had out in the halls.

“Oh dear!” Sun replied, his hands fluttering to his face in exaggerated concern. “What a terrible mistake!” His voice dipped to a playful murmur. “But I’m glad, you know. I was sad thinking I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow.” He paused, his eyes brightening with excitement. “Now we can have fun all night long!”

She felt herself blush, wondering why his touch always seemed so warm, so comforting. There was something in his presence that settled her nerves, made the vastness of the Pizzaplex feel… cozy.

“Sounds like you’re thrilled to have a little company,” she teased, taking a tentative step closer. He held out his arms with his usual enthusiasm, and she let herself be pulled into a soft hug, his touch wrapping her in an almost parental warmth.

He pulled back, looking at her with a soft, bright expression. “Only a little,” he replied, his voice dripping with playfulness. “Well, maybe a lot.” His sun rays spun faster, showing the excitement in his frame. “How about a game of hide-and-seek, hmm? We haven’t played since last week.”

She laughed, feeling the remnants of her worry melt away. “Alright,” she said, grinning up at him. “But no peeking!”

He gasped, feigning innocence. “Me? Peek? Why, I would never, my little Sunflower.” He spun on his heel, covering his eyes as he began to count. “One… two… three…”

As he counted, she darted toward the play structures, weaving between plastic trees and foam mats, her heart pounding. She knew it was just a game, but the adrenaline made her giddy. There was something thrilling about having Sun searching for her, his joyful, singsong voice calling out her nickname. She squeezed herself behind a pile of giant, foam blocks, trying to stifle her laughter as his voice floated through the daycare.

“Seventeen… eighteen… nineteen… twenty!” He turned, his eyes scanning the room, his sun rays spinning in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Ready or not, here I come!”

A strange thrill shot through her as he moved through the room, his gaze sweeping over every corner, his voice low and playful. “Oh, Sunflower… where are you hiding?” She pressed her hand over her mouth, trying not to make a sound, her heart pounding louder in her chest as he neared.

Finally, he stopped right in front of her hiding spot, looking directly into the foam blocks. “Found you!” he cried triumphantly, reaching out and gently pulling her from her hiding place, his laughter filling the room as she broke into a grin.

“You always find me,” she teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

He chuckled, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder as he looked down at her with a warm, almost adoring expression. “Of course, I always find you, my little Sunflower. I’m very good at knowing where you are.” His voice held a note of something softer, something almost possessive, but his smile remained bright, innocent.

The way he looked at her made her heart skip a beat. She knew he was only playing, only teasing her the way he always did, but something in his gaze felt different tonight, a quiet intensity lingering beneath the cheer.

She glanced down, feeling her cheeks warm. Why is my heart beating so hard? she wondered, trying to shake off the strange feeling. She was just tired, that was all. She’d been planning to go home, to relax in bed, to binge her favorite show and unwind. That was all it was.

As if sensing her distraction, Sun tilted his head, watching her with a curious, affectionate smile. “You look tired,” he said softly, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

She nodded, surprised by the softness in his voice, the way his hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary. His touch was comforting, steady, a warmth she didn’t want to pull away from.

“You know, it’s funny,” he continued, his tone still soft. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to spend a whole night with you. To see you resting, safe and sound.” His words sent a quiet thrill through her, the casual affection in his voice giving way to something deeper, something that made her heart flutter in her chest.

She forced herself to laugh, trying to shake off the strange feeling. “Well, looks like you’re getting your wish,” she replied, smiling up at him. “Guess you’ll have to keep me entertained all night long.”

His smile brightened, his sun rays spinning faster. “That, my dear Sunflower, is a promise,” he said, his voice filled with delight. “How about I show you all my favorite places in the daycare? There are plenty of places you haven’t seen yet, after all.”

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? You’re telling me there’s more to this place than play structures and coloring books?”

“Much more,” he replied, winking playfully. “Follow me!”

He took her hand, leading her through the daycare, pointing out little nooks and hidden corners, places he'd hide during hide and seek, or the best viewpoint to watch the littles, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he showed her every detail. She could feel his hand gently holding hers, the warmth of his touch sending little sparks of excitement through her. He was so kind, so attentive, and something about his presence made her feel… safe. As they walked, she found herself relaxing, the stress of the night slowly melting away as she let herself enjoy his company.

He paused, glancing at the lights above with a faintly apprehensive expression. “Just so you know, the lights in the daycare… they’re on a timer.”

She frowned, tilting her head. “A timer?”

“Yes. One hour on, one hour off,” he explained carefully, his voice softening. “When they go out, it… means things change around here. I’d rather you didn’t wander when it’s dark.” He glanced away, his expression unreadable. “I’d hate for you to be somewhere… unsafe.”

She nodded slowly, remembering the rumors she’d heard about the daycare. Tales of the mysterious, shadowy figure that supposedly shared a body with Sun—a dark entity called Moon. She’d always dismissed the stories as nothing more than staff gossip, cautionary tales told to explain the strange disappearances of some of the employees. She’d even laughed them off, convinced that whatever “Moon” was, he couldn’t be that bad.

Still, something about the way Sun was watching her, his expression tense and serious, made her feel a twinge of apprehension.

“Well, I won’t go far,” she promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll stay close. I trust you.”

His face brightened, his eyes filling with relief as he squeezed her hand gently. “Thank you, Sunflower,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “It means the world to me.”

She smiled, her heart warming at the softness in his gaze. He really is sweet, she thought, feeling a strange, quiet affection growing in her chest. Sun felt safe, familiar, and being with him made the vast emptiness of the Pizzaplex seem a little less daunting.

But just as she felt herself relaxing, the lights started to clunk out, slowly plunging the daycare into darkness from the far wall, row by row of light, getting closer. She froze, her eyes widening in confusion. It's not even 10 yet? What's going on?? She felt Sun’s hand slip away, the warmth of his touch vanishing as a faint, metallic hum filled the air.

A chill ran down her spine, the memory of the stories about Moon flickering in her mind. She tried to steady her breathing, forcing herself to stay calm. It’s just a story, she told herself. Baseless rumors.

But as the darkness deepened, approaching quickly, a quiet tension settled over the room, and she felt an unspoken shift in the air.

The lights directly above them clicked off with a harsh finality, plunging the daycare into an unnatural darkness that sent a shiver racing down Starlight’s spine. She froze, her hand instinctively reaching out to where Sun had been standing, but in the thick silence, her fingers met only empty air.

A strangled, agonized sound broke the silence, a sound so desperate and raw that it struck her to her core. She turned, her eyes straining to find him in the dark. “Sun?”

“Oh no, no, no,” Sun’s voice trembled, carrying a deep, gut-wrenching fear she’d never heard before. He was clutching at his faceplate, his rays spinning erratically as though fighting to remain visible. “I… I’m so sorry, Sunflower, I… I didn’t mean… it’s not supposed to be now… hide, please hide—”

His voice fractured, descending into a garbled mix of static and broken sounds as he gripped his head, his form visibly straining as if fighting something internal. But even as he seemed to resist, his rays slowly retracted into his faceplate, vanishing with a metallic whir. His cheerful yellows and reds melted away, replaced by a haunting blend of deep blues and whites. A long nightcap unfurled from the back of his head, a cold, dark counterpoint to Sun’s usual sunny crown.

Starlight took a step back, her stomach twisting. She’d never truly feared him before, not Sun, but watching him now—his body writhing as he transformed, his frame jerking against itself—left her frozen in horror.

“Please, just go,” he managed one last, desperate plea, his voice barely recognizable before it shattered into static.

Then, with a jarring snap, he went silent.

As the silence stretched on, a new figure took Sun’s place: darker and angled oddly, with piercing red eyes that gleamed in the darkness like embers. His body seemed to settle into his shape, his limbs moving fluidly now, his joints creaking as he adjusted to the new form. It was Moon. And he was staring at her.

“Oh god,” she whispered, every muscle in her body going rigid as a chill washed over her. She took a shaky breath, her pulse racing as the shock settled into a sharp edge of fear. Is Moon really that bad?

Her mind screamed at her to move, to run, to find a place to hide. Heart pounding, she turned and darted toward the play structure, her body moving on instinct as she scrambled for safety.

Hide, just hide. Her breaths came shallow and quick as she climbed into the play structure, her hands clutching the padded edges of the entryway. The once bright and inviting tubes, the small padded corridors she could only crawl through, now seemed to press in around her, their cheerful colors swallowed by the darkness, leaving only the feeling of claustrophobia as the tight spaces closed around her. She forced herself deeper inside, her knees and palms sinking into the soft, plasticky padding, the muffled sound of her movements blending with the strange creaks and groans of the structure itself.

A dark, static-filled chuckle resonated through the air, reverberating through the tubes, making her skin crawl.

“Hidey-hide,” a voice purred, so low it felt like it was whispering directly into her mind. “Hide away…”

The sound of Moon’s voice was far different from Sun’s. It was gravelly, sinister, punctuated by bursts of static, as though his words were being filtered through some broken speaker. Every syllable dripped with something dark and mocking, and the way he drew out the words left a pit of dread churning in her stomach.

She crawled forward, her hands shaking as she moved deeper into the play structure. Her fingers fumbled against the foam padding, her breaths shallow as she clung to the walls, squeezing herself into a corner where the padding narrowed. It was a cramped space, one she could barely turn in, but it was something, a place she could hide.

This is just a prank, she tried to tell herself, though even as she thought it, she could feel the lie in it. Sun wouldn’t do this to me, would he?

But that desperate, strangled cry still echoed in her ears, and she knew—whatever this was, Sun had been terrified. That was no act.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she froze, her breath catching in her throat. Moon’s figure appeared just outside the play structure, his body moving with an eerie grace, his limbs looking too long, too fluid, though they were the same as Sun’s. He approached the structure’s mesh walls, his red pupils sharp and unblinking as they scanned the interior, the glow of them cutting through the darkness with a haunting intensity.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” he sang softly, his voice laced with a dark amusement.

Starlight pressed herself further into the tight corner, willing herself to become invisible, her pulse pounding as she watched him through the mesh. His face twisted into a grin, his eyes narrowing as they swept across her hiding place, and for a moment, she dared to hope he hadn’t seen her.

But then his gaze settled on her, locking her in place as if he’d known she was there all along.

Her heart leapt to her throat, terror freezing her in place as his eyes bore into her. The small barrier of mesh between them felt like nothing, a flimsy excuse for protection as he scaled the side of the structure, getting closer, his grin widening. His pupils contracting as he looked at her with an intensity that made her stomach twist.

“Found you,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath, though it carried through the structure like a haunting melody.

Starlight swallowed, her mind racing as she considered bolting, darting deeper into the structure, away from those unblinking red eyes. But before she could move, his hand shot out, gripping the outside of the play structure with a force that made the walls shake, the plastic groaning under the strain. He pressed closer, his gaze never wavering, his expression fixed in that dark, unsettling grin.

“Scared, little star?~” he murmured, his voice smooth and dark, his words dripping with a quiet, unsettling mirth.

She tried to move, to scramble further away, but the walls of the structure seemed to close in on her, the tight, claustrophobic space making it impossible to escape. Every inch of her body was coiled with tension, her pulse a drumbeat in her ears as she felt the weight of his gaze press down on her.

The seconds stretched on, each one pulsing with a silent, mounting dread, until she was certain she could feel the very air growing heavy, closing in around her as he stared.

And then, just as she was sure he would tear through the mesh and reach her, the lights overhead flickered back on.

Moon recoiled, his body stiffening, a guttural growl escaping him as he tried to resist the change. His face twisted in frustration, one hand clutching his head as the nightcap retreated, his red eyes flickering and fading as Sun’s rays reemerged, the colors of his frame shifting back to their bright yellows and reds.

Starlight watched in stunned silence as he fought the transformation, his body jerking and convulsing as if it were being torn apart. But finally, with a shuddering breath, the familiar face of Sun reappeared, his bright eyes widening as he looked at her, his expression one of pure, unfiltered relief.

“Sunflower!” he cried, his voice thick with emotion. He reached for her, his movements awkward and shaky as he tried to maintain his balance on the outer wall, but as he stretched his hand out to steady himself against the play structure, he lost his grip and tumbled backward, landing in an ungainly heap on the padded floor 10 feet below.

Starlight’s heart twisted, fear and worry flooding her as she scrambled out of the structure, her hands trembling as she crawled down to where he lay. “Sun?” she whispered, her voice wavering as she knelt beside him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Are you… okay?”

He blinked up at her, his eyes hazy, the brightness in them slowly returning as he took in her face. “Yes, yes! Oh, Sunflower,” he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a quiet, aching relief. “Are… are you alright?”

She nodded, though her own heart still raced, her thoughts a whirl of confusion and fear. “I’m fine, but… Sun, what just happened?” She hesitated, glancing around the daycare as if expecting to see the haunting figure of Moon lurking in the shadows. “The lights went out early, and… he was here.”

Sun’s face fell, his expression growing pained as he looked away, his rays drooping slightly. “I’m so sorry, Sunflower,” he whispered, his voice heavy with regret. “I wish I could ,have warned you sooner. The lights… they’re on a timer, but something… must have gone wrong.”

She frowned, her worry deepening as she studied him. He looked shaken, almost fearful, a vulnerability she’d never seen before. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head quickly, forcing a bright, reassuring smile. “No, no, I’m perfectly fine. It’s you I’m worried about,” he said, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. “I never wanted you to see… him.”

Her heart twisted as she met his gaze, the lingering fear still settling heavily in her chest. She could feel the weight of his hand on hers, the warmth of his touch anchoring her, and despite everything, she felt a strange, quiet comfort.

“I’m okay,” she murmured, her voice soft. “I trust you, Sun. Just… let me know if something’s wrong. I can handle it.”

He hesitated, his hand lingering on hers, his gaze filled with a mix of relief and something deeper, something she couldn’t quite name. “Thank you, Sunflower,” he whispered, his voice laced with quiet gratitude. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”

But as he held her hand, a flicker of something darker passed through his gaze, a quiet intensity that made her heart skip. She squeezed his hand, hoping it was just a trick of the light.

--------------

Thank you for reading chapter 1 of No Escape! Should I continue it?

I've written far too much of my own self insert to not share at this point. Thinking of adding it on Ao3. What do you guys think? Also, should I continue with POV 'she', or do you prefer it in 3rd person like 'you'. ily ty

[realian]

Until Dawn came out almost ten years ago.

[lover-of-mine]

In a perfect world, all twilight movies but breaking dawn part 2 have the blue filter and they use that to show the way Bella says the colors are brighter after she turns.

[nagisa2345-blog]

彼女の笑顔に惚れた | わたしの幸せな結婚

I so really really really really love this whole entire video, etc On The Whole Entire YouTube App, etc!!!!!!

And Also I so really really really really love this whole entire anime, etc as well too, etc On The Whole Entire YouTube App, etc As Well Too, etc!!!!!!😀😀😃😃😍😍😘😘🥰🥰🤩🤩🙃🙃🙂🙂🫠🫠🥰🥰🥰🥰🌈🌈🌈🌈👄👄💋💋💘💘❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹💝💝💖💖❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥💗💗💓💓💞💞💕💕💌💌❣️❣️❤️❤️🧡🧡💛💛💚💚🩵🩵💙💙💜💜🤎🤎🖤🖤🩶🩶🤍🤍🩷🩷♥️♥️💟💟💐💐💮💮🏵️🏵️🌼🌼🌻🌻🌺🌺🌹🌹🌷🌷🪻🪻🪷🪷🌸🌸🍃🍃🍂🍂🍁🍁🍄🍄🌾🌾☘️☘️🍀🍀🌱🌱🌿🌿🪴🪴🌵🌵🌴🌴🌳🌳🌲🌲🪹🪹🪺🪺🫧🫧🌈🌈🤴🤴👸👸🤵‍♂️🤵‍♂️👰‍♀️👰‍♀️🤰🤰🤱🤱👩‍🍼👩‍🍼👨‍🍼👨‍🍼👫👫👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧👨‍👩‍👧🦸‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦸‍♀️🦸‍♀️🧚‍♂️🧚‍♂️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♀️🧛‍♀️🧝‍♂️🧝‍♂️🧝‍♀️🧝‍♀️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧞‍♂️🧞‍♂️🧞‍♀️🧞‍♀️🥷🥷🥷🥷👨‍💻👨‍💻👩‍💻👩‍💻👨‍🎤👨‍🎤👩‍🎤👩‍🎤👨‍🎨👨‍🎨👩‍🎨👩‍🎨🕺🕺💃💃🤹‍♂️🤹‍♂️🤹‍♀️🤹‍♀️🍱🍱🍚🍚🥘🥘🍲🍲🍛🍛🍜🍜🍝🍝🫕🫕🥡🥡🥗🥗🍎🍎🍏🍏🍓🍓🍒🍒🍉🍉🍑🍑🍊🍊🥭🥭🍍🍍🍌🍌🍋🍋🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍈🍈🍐🍐🥝🥝🫒🫒🍇🍇🫐🫐🥥🥥🍅🍅🌶️🌶️🥕🥕🌽🌽🥦🥦🥒🥒🥬🥬🫛🫛🫑🫑🥑🥑🍠🍠🍆🍆🥔🥔🍄‍🟫🍄‍🟫🫘🫘🌰🌰🥨🥨🥜🥜🥚🥚🍳🍳🫓🫓🍞🍞🥐🥐🥖🥖🥯🥯🧇🧇🥞🥞🧀🧀🥓🥓🥩🥩🍖🍖🍗🍗🍟🍟🍔🍔🌭🌭🍕🍕🌮🌮🌯🌯🫔🫔🥙🥙🧆🧆🐟🐟🐠🐠🐡🐡🦀🦀🦞🦞🐙🐙🦑🦑🦐🦐🦪🦪🍣🍣🍢🍢🍤🍤🥟🥟🍘🍘🍙🍙🥮🥮🍿🍿🥠🥠🍥🍥🍡🍡🎂🎂🍰🍰🧁🧁🥧🥧🍮🍮🍧🍧🍦🍦🍨🍨🍩🍩🍪🍪🍫🍫🍬🍬🍭🍭🍯🍯🍼🍼🫖🫖🥛🥛☕☕🍵🍵🍾🍾🥂🥂���🍷🍸🍸🍹🍹🍶🍶🍺🍺🍻🍻🥃🥃🧉🧉🧋🧋🥤🥤🧃🧃🧊🧊🍽️🍽️🍴🍴🥄🥄🥢🥢🏘️🏘️🏠🏠🏡🏡🏨🏨🏰🏰🏯🏯🏤🏤🕌🕌⛲⛲🗼🗼🗽🗽⛩️⛩️🏘️🏘️🏘️🏘️🏠🏠🏠🏠🏡🏡🏡🏡🏨🏨🏨🏨🏰🏰🏰🏰🏯🏯🏯🏯🏤🏤🏤🏤🕌🕌🕌🕌⛲⛲⛲⛲

[neurodiversityisamazing]

You can find me under Chelsea Smitherson on Youtube! I recently also played The Quarry and just started Resident Evil 7

[braidpoll]

ROUND 5 PART 1

[happistar]

spinal stimulation go brrrrr

[cherryberg]

how do you have so many ocs its incredible to me

start with anything. a concept you like, a question to be answered, a name. garner inspiration everywhere. make whatever you want forever <3

[realtimefanduboutofcontext]

Can i pretty please get that one bit until dawn pt 1 (i think?) where josh goes 'aha no, silly woman, this is a Flash Light, its a neat little technology that i think you could get behind' or sth along those lines

SnapCube's Real-Time Fandub | "Until Dawn - Part 1" (2021)[YouTube]

[lalunanymph]

THE MAKING OF A MRS.

🗝️ LESSON 1: BECOMING MRS. QIN

shackled to sylus and stuck in the N109 zone and with no way of leaving until you figure out how to remove the aether core bond between the two of you, you take up his offer (and begrudging help) to try and blend in with his high-stakes, high-rewards life. how? by learning struggling to be his wife

ᥫ᭡ fem!reader, arranged marriage, slow burn, contract marriage, fluff, crack, we stress sylus out so badly....

ᥫ᭡ dawn says: hehe im so EXCITED to share this like u have no idea </3 fluff/crack for arranged marriage is something i've always wanted to explore and this idea is perfect to take a dive in 🥹 i hope u all loved this as much as i had fun writing it <3 ps: no steamy parts... yet 🫣

⇢ ˗ˏˋ main directory | lesson 2

“What do you mean I should chop off my hand?” 

Your seething and refusal to submit to his suggestion draws the first pulse of a migraine in Sylus’ right temple. 

Taking refuge back in his mansion after the Salon Hotel explosion, his face is pale amidst the black upholstery, though his grimace never falters. The air is ripe with tension, and you try for the umpteenth time to free your wrist from the morose reality of being shackled to one dangerous and trigger happy Onychinus leader.

You can tell he isn’t exactly thrilled by this new development as well, his jaw tight and ruby eyes flickering to your face, simmering with irritation.

But, he tempers down his vexation, preferring to think forward.

As a marked man since time immemorial, he’s never had the privilege to sit around and revel in misery; always working one step forward on the chess board while he peels his glinting eyes towards the bigger picture.

And right now, there is only one variable he can foresee until this little mess gets sorted.

Sylus’ lips curl into a smirk, and you can tell he has a potentially life threatening idea brewing in that sick mind of his. As much as you try to figure it out, predicting his behavior is out of your reach. One could never tell where a flame was going to fall and explode into a blaze.

“We will stay here and figure it out,” he promises. “In the meantime, I want to strike a deal.”

Your scowl is adorable, if a little uncalled for in a moment like this. When Sylus told you the both of you were more alike than you would think, he never anticipated actually having to be in your vicinity 24/7. 

“Do not show your claws to me like that, kitten,” he mutters curtly. “It was not I who was hellbent on locating the Aether core.”

Your glare gives way to confusion when he stands, tugging you along for the ride.

“Hey—where are we going?”

You huff and try to keep up with him, your right hand dangling limply in front of you as you struggle to match his longer strides.

Sylus doesn’t reply, his gaze locked in the front, mind a million miles away.

You don’t open your mouth again, not sure what to expect when he leads you right into his office. There, on his desk, is a stack of papers, and you have no choice but to hover beside him as he takes out what looks like a declaration form.

Squinting, you try to make out the words, but from your vantage point that’s blocked by the back of his head leaning absurdly close to the document, you can hardly tell what he’s scribbling.

“As it is, the N109 Zone is already a dangerous place for its civilians and made even worse for a Linkon citizen to be caught here.” He stands, tucking the paper into his coat pocket. The sudden movement inadvertently tugs you forward so your chest brushes against his sternum. Locks of frosty white hair fall into his face, tips brushing the highest points of his cheekbones.

You tear your eyes away, clearing your throat. “And?”

You wait for him to continue. Sylus doesn’t.

Instead, he heaves in a deep breath, and you raise your head, thrown off guard by the sheen of pain in his eyes. They waver upon you with such a lonesome, tragic veneer you think he’s about to announce his departure from this world.

Not—

“In order to keep you and my interests safe, we have to concoct a plausible story for everyone to believe. Having you constantly around me is not only a liability, but people will start to conspire.” He exhales a deep sigh. “Which is why I have drafted a document to bind us together in marriage for the remainder of your... unfortunate stay here in the N109 Zone.”

His words trickle with condescension, though you’re completely hung up on the singular one which makes you pause and double back.

“What?” You’re all but shrieking. “Sylus, are you saying you’re going to make me marry you?”

He winces slightly at the sharpness of your trill. Sighing, he brushes an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder, looking unimpressed.

“What I am saying, little hunter,” his lips curl into a sardonic smirk. “Is that until we figure out how to overcome this minor inconvenience together—” Sylus lifts his left hand, purposely dangling your right hand in his face much to your squawk of dismay that barely fazes him. “We have to prove our marriage is believable. Or else, you and I will suffer the consequences.”

He mutters those words with such finality, it’s hard not to envision guns hidden right in the shadows, their barrels trained right on your susceptible foreheads.

You shiver and don’t speak for a moment. Sylus drops his hand, stepping back until the invisible shackle can’t allow anymore give, gracefully providing you some personal space to work through this grave solution.

“Say I agree—”

“There is no room for objection,” he interjects firmly. “We have no other choice, kitten.”

Your mouth thins, a line of discomposure that he doesn’t miss. It’s not that you don’t agree with his idea, it’s just the execution would possibly squeeze all the sanity out of you.

You don’t know Sylus. You can’t trust yourself to handle such a dangerous man. Perhaps, death would be a kinder alternative than navigating such baffling terrains with a man who for all intents and purposes, has just tried to blow you up a few hours ago. 

He sighs, as if reading your mind. “Such an arrangement is unconventional. But, in order to make this work, we would need a few ground rules here.” 

Sylus starts before you can interrupt him.

“We will have a safeword to signal when either of us—most likely you—is in danger. I vouch for ‘bullet’.”

Despite the horrors of this situation, you manage a snort. “I can’t take that word seriously—knowing you, a gun will always be in the picture.”

His expression twists with something akin to humor. Sylus arranges it back into neutral waters, gazing at you with a look of veiled curiosity. “Alright then, you smart little cookie. What would you suggest?”

You tap on the tip of your nose to think, going back and forth until you settle on something innocuous yet also obvious.

“‘Guts’,” you finally murmur. He raises a brow. 

“So, ‘bullets’ is out of the question, but somehow, ‘guts’ make perfect sense? Are you desperately pinning all your hopes on me to never mutilate a body?”

The mental image of Sylus covered in gore up to his arms while you’re still cuffed helplessly next to him, makes you shiver.

“Then, have you ever considered not mutilating someone while I’m shackled to you?” 

He pauses for a moment longer than necessary. “Fine,” the white-haired devil finally agrees. “You're dreadfully boring, kitten. But, I concede. No mutilating people while we're shackled together. Next.” Sylus clears his throat, and makes to cross his arms, but that just draws you closer to him, your feet stumbling forward.

Frowning, he drops them, tilting his head back with a godawful deep sigh.

“Bed,” he says past gritted teeth. “And bathroom requirements. I would personally prefer for us not to be within an arms’ reach while we’re doing our business.”

The mental image of him hunched over the toilet bowl, face all scrunched up as he’s suffering from morning bowel movements while you’re there, uncomfortably in the background, makes it impossible to stifle a giggle. 

“Oh, so you think that is funny?” He arches his brow again. “What if you had an emergency, hmm? Would you still be this mirthful if you knew that I know what your… excretions… sound like?”

The fact that a foreboding, tall and dangerous man like Sylus Qin has just uttered the word ‘excretions’ in a sentence makes it impossible for you to contain your laughter. You double over, wiping tears from your eyes; he probably thinks you’ve already lost it.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly repressing the trauma such a mental image branded into him, and forces himself to move on. 

“When we pretend to be husband and wife, our proximity would make sense. We could go into bathrooms together—sleep together. No one will know the—”

“Wait,” your composure returns after being doused with that shocking cold news. “A-are you saying we have to sleep on the same bed?” 

Sylus looks at you like you're a toddler who was asked to stop chewing dirt. “Unless you have a cheap parlour trick to physically regenerate your hand after chopping it off, then, yes,” he answers curtly. “We have to share a bed—isn't it wonderful?"

The bathroom is one thing—such gross indecencies barely phase you after months of being forced to sleep in a cramped dorm room with over 20 other female Hunter trainees. It’s the idea of your bed—your oasis—being tainted by his presence that pushes your nerves into overdrive.

You can hardly trust a knife to him without imagining it stuck somewhere in someone’s ribs, much less your vulnerable state while you were asleep.

The energy chain hums between you two, seeming to pick up on your despair.

Sylus purses his lips. “Look, kitten. I myself am hardly a fan of this arrangement. However, certain measures need to be taken to make things easy and as pain-free as possible for the both of us. We have to accept that we’re no longer individuals, but a team.” 

He steamrolls past your protests, shushing you with his next words. “An unconventional team of four feet, four limbs, two brains. Four eyes. We are not two people—but one. The sooner you accept it, sweetie, the faster we can resolve this problem. Do you understand me?”

There’s nothing else you can add or subtract without taking away the shittiness of this situation—you’re locked in with him, for better or for worse.

“Okay,” you muster enough courage to mutter. “Four feet, four limbs, two brains, four eyes. Got it.”

Sylus gives a nod, moving briskly into business.

“The first thing we shall do is this—” 

He removes the earlier document from his coat pocket, smoothing it out onto the large blackwood desk so you can read it. “These are the terms and conditions of a standard N109 Zone wedding. Unlike the tedious traditions of Linkon, there are no witnesses needed here. No tea ceremony, either. In fact, as proof of how easy it is, we can commence to be wedded right here and now. All you need to do is sign here and here, and we’re done.”

Sylus has already scrawled his signature under the agreement, and right underneath it, an empty dotted line yawns, waiting for your consent.

A pen materializes right by your hand. The dark mist of his Evol is cold when it brushes against your skin, retreating after procuring your one-way ticket to hell.

You pick it up, pulling back on the energy bond so you can use your dominant hand to sign this damning agreement. 

One loop. A scratch.

And it’s done.

It's a mockery of your wildest imagination. 

You're now a married woman, and next to you, looking forlorn and cross, is your brand new husband.

— reblogs and feedback is appreciated <33 i appreciate all ur support <3

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, take elements of my story and claim it as yours. i strictly do not allow translations of my works across other platforms.

[bbydoll18xx]

She’s Such a Good Girl (Part 2)

Paige continues her assault on your innocence, leading you to spiral.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Themes: angst in the beginning, Paige being hot and flirty the rest of it woohoo, mentions of being horny oops

Part 1 - You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her.

Masterlist

A/N: I’m so, so grateful for all the love on the first part of this little mini series. Let me know if you are up for a third part:)) I have soo many ideas it's ridiculous

~

You wake up feeling anything but well rested. Your sleep was muddled with dreams of Paige, her smile infiltrating your unconsciousness until you woke up with an uncomfortable stickiness in between your thighs. You groan into your pillow, the general overwhelmingness of last night draining you even more.

Grabbing your phone from your bedside table, you see a text from Paige, and the butterflies erupt inside of you once more. 

‘We’re all planning on going out tonight. You’re coming with us.’

Her bluntness momentarily stuns you, but you were grateful to be included. It seemed she was hell bent on getting you out of your shell, for whatever reason, and you were simply just going to concede. You needed this.

You respond, your heart beating out of your chest, and the anxiety begins to set in. 

It was getting harder and harder to deny the gay feelings you had. And although it had been years since your “oh shit, I’m gay,” moment had dawned on you, this was reaching new heights of awareness. But you had refused to truly accept it thus far.

You had a complicated relationship with your sexuality. Most of the time you had shied away from even acknowledging it; it was too painful. In high school, you were surrounded by other gay people, and it felt like you almost belonged, slowly coming to terms with your sapphism. But as you moved away to college, you were the only one in your friend group who was even a little remotely queer, and you felt isolated by your glaring differences. 

Your religious upbringing did not help the situation either. You quickly learned how to hide your emotions. Slurs were regularly thrown around the dinner table, the nasty words cutting into your being, and your fists would be tightening in your lap, fighting to keep a neutral expression on your face.

You could not give yourself away.

As soon as you could, you’d seek solace in your room, hot, shameful tears sliding down your cheeks, forcing yourself to quiet the sobs erupting through your chest. The words of contempt echoed through your mind, until eventually you had nearly come to believe them yourself. 

Each evening you clasped your hands together desperately in prayer, vehemently struggling with everything you had been raised to know and everything you wanted and needed to feel. It was an eternal battle that raged on inside, slowly withering you into a ghost, haunted by the darkness that had flourished in the absence of support and acceptance.

You wondered what the people who had claimed to love and know you the most, would do if they found out about your dirty, little secret. The anxieties about being outed manifested in cruel dreams, awakening you suddenly, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your body as your chest rose and fell in quick staccato breaths. 

That was something you still wondered today. And you would certainly wonder for the rest of your life. You had vowed that you would never come out to your family unless you truly fell in love with a girl. So you had kept everyone at arm's length to protect yourself. But Paige Bueckers was slowly breaking your walls down, brick by brick. 

A wave of nausea washes over you as you realize that getting closer to Paige meant toying the line of the false heteronormative persona you’ve been carefully crafting since you were a young teenager. The temptation of feeling normal in a group of girls quickly shuts down any immediate worries. That was a problem for another time. 

You hear your roommates in the living room, bustling around without having any idea of your internal battle. With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed to go out to meet them, already preparing for the deafening noises that would inevitably come with telling them of last night's events. 

You open your door, nearly shuffling your feet against the carpet as you walk out to greet Taylor and Sarah. Their heads turn from the focus on the television, faces set in smiles as they see you emerge from your room.

“Guess what I did last night?” You prompt them, and their faces morph into ones of natural curiosity. 

“Did you read your class syllabuses to get a head start?” Sarah asks sarcastically, and you stick your tongue out at her in false derision. 

“No,” you scoff, although her guess was not completely off base. “I went over and hung out with Paige and the rest of the team.”

Taylor and Sarah were uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. They glanced at each other, momentarily stunned before erupting in hollers, jumping to their feet in excitement. 

“How the fuck did that happen?” Taylor all but yells, still jumping up and down. It was a good thing you did not have downstairs neighbors.

“Well they were being so loud, and I wanted to go to bed, so I knocked on the door to politely ask them to shut up,” you explain, trying to hide the giddiness you felt as you recalled the events of last night.

“And Paige answered and invited me in. And now I’m going out with her and the team tonight,” you finish, carefully watching the reactions of your two best friends. 

Their faces were morphed into ones of sheer delight and astonishment.

“My innocent, little angel is growing up,” Taylor exclaims, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye, and you swat at her, giggling at the sheer hilarity of the situation.

“What am I supposed to wear to a bar?” You ask, and the girls shriek in laughter, clapping their hands and promising to help you get dressed later.

You feel better about everything, the support from your roommates briefly quelling the fears and uncertainties that had plagued your mind for years. And your excitement was a testimony to the effect a certain blonde had on you.

~

“You’ve got great tits. Might as well show them off,” Sarah says exasperatedly, shoving one of her low cut tops at you.

Your face heats up, and you hold up the tiny tank top. “Don’t you think it’s a little, I don’t know, slutty?” Your voice trails to a whisper as you think about purposely showing off your body. 

“That’s the point, girl! It’s finally your time to show everyone what you’re fucking made of. Go be a sexy, bad bitch!” Taylor urges, slapping you on the butt as she does.

You take a deep breath, nodding in agreement, finally pushing yourself further away from the perfect, good girl act that had been placed upon you since you were a child. 

You don the skimpy black tank, admiring the way it shows off your slim waist, and you pair it with tight jeans that accentuate the curve of your ass perfectly. You fluff your hair and add a layer of lip gloss, before taking one last long glance in the mirror.

You could do this.

With a few encouraging words from your roommates and a few slaps to your ass, you nervously make your way across the hall to knock once more on Paige’s door. The door is thrown open, loud cheers erupting as you appear, and KK launches herself at you excitedly, throwing her arms around you and pulling you into her. 

Giggling, you hug her back, your nerves melting away at her friendly disposition. She pulls away, eyeing you up and down with an approving nod. “Someone cooked here,” she smirks, and your face blooms an embarrassing shade of deep red.

“My roommates kind of helped me get dressed,” you admit, hands tugging down your impossibly small shirt. 

“Girl, you look fineee,” she says, rubbing her hands together, causing several of the other girls to cackle at her not so subtle attempt to rizz you up.

“Who looks fine?” you hear a familiar voice, and your head whips in the direction of the question. You see Paige sauntering towards you, and your heart immediately begins to pound as your eyes rake over her tall figure. 

Her hair was down in blonde waves, making you want to reach out and run your hand through the soft-looking locks. Her toned stomach was exposed from her crop top, her abs flashing in a way that had your stomach rolling with an unfamiliar feeling. You couldn’t necessarily put your finger on it, but it shot down in an intense display of unbridled want. And she had the smuggest look on her face, accentuating the plumpness of her bottom lip. Your tongue subconsciously darts out to lick a slow line against your own lip as you watch her approach you.

KK points at you, waggling her eyebrows. “The pretty princess over here.” 

You blush again. Shit, you really had to get that under control. 

Paige hums, looking you up and down once more. “She’s not wrong,” she mutters huskily in your ear as she pulls you in for a hug. Your knees weaken at her touch, and you aren't sure if you’d be able to survive the night. It had just begun, and she had you completely and irrevocably fucked. 

30 minutes later, you, Paige, and the other members of UCONN’s women’s basketball team were shuffling into several ubers to head to a nearby bar. Unsure of which car to get into, you awkwardly stand off to the side, the anxiety pumping through your veins once more, but you soon feel a muscular arm wrap around your waist.

Looking up, you are met with Paige’s blue eyes and that smug smirk, and with a wink, she guides you to the nearest car, helping you into the backseat. As you sit, you adjust your top, overly aware of how much of your chest was actually out. Paige sits next to you, settling in with a low grunt, and she immediately places a hand on your thigh. Your eyes focus on the veins and the length of her fingers, and that feeling in your belly ignites again. 

As you arrive at the bar, Paige helps you out of the car with a chivalrous hand. And it does not leave yours as you enter the doors. She laces her fingers through yours, and you don’t miss the way it feels so damn right. She guides you through the crowds of people, and your breath hitches, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the volume and the hoards of drunk people pushing into your frame. 

Paige notices immediately, and she pulls you closer, tucking you into her side protectively. You preen at the attention, the feeling so foreign but addictive. You needed more, and the idea of it ripped away from you sent an unsettling spike of dread shooting through you maliciously. 

Subtly, you shake your head in a futile attempt to clear the thoughts out of your head. Overthinking was sure to be your downfall. Nothing a little alcohol couldn’t fix, though.

Aside from the occasional glass of wine, you had never really drank. And you certainly had never done shots. But when Nika and Aubrey had thrusted a tray of them towards where you and Paige were sitting, you were quick to grab one, eager to dull the bitter voices in your head. 

You bring it to your face, taking a hesitant sniff that causes your nose to wrinkle, eliciting a fond chuckle from the blonde. “Do I just sip it or…?” You trail off shyly, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous you sounded. What kind of college girl didn’t know how to take a shot?

Paige bites her lip. “Lemme help you, baby,” she mutters in your ear, and she takes the shot out of your hand. “Breathe all of the air out and then swallow it all at once before you take another breath, okay?” 

You nod, letting the air leave your mouth, lips pouting. Without her gaze leaving your mouth, Paige holds up the shot glass, pouring the liquid down your throat in a swift motion. 

You swallow quickly, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly. You lick your lips, trying to catch a tiny drop that had slid past your mouth and trailed down your chin towards your neck. 

Before you can chase the trickle, Paige leans in, swiping it with her thumb, placing it into her mouth and sucking, her cheeks hollowing in the process. 

Your face morphs into a look of shock, and she gives you a shit-eating grin. The effect she had on you was something out of a book you spent many lonely nights immersing yourself in. And now that you were living in the crystal clear reality, you regretted not getting out of your shell a little sooner. 

“Can I do another?” You ask, already looking at the tray where a few shots still remained. 

Paige laughs. “Maybe wait a few, princess. The alcohol will kick in soon,” she promises. “You can share mine,” she gestures to her drink, and you don’t miss the way the pet name rolls off her tongue effortlessly. 

Paige was not lying when she had told you that the effects would soon hit you. Before you could even start to feel uncomfortable, a delicious easiness fell over you, loosening you up in a way you had never experienced before. You reach for Paige’s straw once more, pretending that her mouth was not just on it, and you relish in the sweet liquid adding to your tipsiness.

Paige had stayed close all night, similarly to the night before, and you were grateful for her constant presence anchoring you. The other girls took turns dancing with you, showering you with compliments and making future plans. Even through the haze of the alcohol, your heart felt as if it could burst; they were all so nice, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you actually belonged. 

The night flies by, and as it does, you and Paige get more and more touchy. Her hands took turns between trailing down your back and resting heavily on your hips. She played with a lock of your hair, twisting it in her fingers as you swayed to the music, and she was constantly gazing at you through heavy lids, pupils blown from the darkness of the bar and pure want.

Emboldened by the drinks that had graced your lips, you don’t shy away, and before you know it, you’re leaning in closer, intoxicated by more than just the liquor. The bustling crowds and excessive noise surrounding you melts away as Paige grips your waist, pulling you closer into her. 

Your heart pounds at her proximity. She reaches up, cradling your jaw and stroking the soft skin of your neck with her thumb. You wonder if she can feel the thumping of your carotid, but you’re too enthralled in her presence to even care. Her eyes flit between your own and your slightly parted lips. Everything felt so fucking delicate, as if one small move would break everything. 

“Been thinkin’ about doin’ this all night,” she whispers, and pulls you into a kiss.

All the air is sucked out of you as her lips touch yours. And while you are momentarily stunned, it does not take long before yours are moving against her in a delicious exchange of passion. All worries of not being a good kisser leave your mind as Paige moans against your mouth, the sound shooting straight down your belly and to your pussy. Her tongue moves against you, and the feel of it does not help the slick now accumulating in your panties. 

The kiss eventually ends, much to your displeasure, and as you pull away, a giggle erupts from your mouth at the insanity of it all.

You had just kissed Paige Bueckers.

“OOH, P is fucking whipped!” KK shouts over the music, enthusiastically high-fiving Ice and Nika. 

Fuck, you were caught. 

But little did KK know, is that you were pretty fucking whipped, too. With one smooth move, Paige had broken down all your walls, and you were surrounded by the bricks of your carefully crafted innocence shattered around you at your feet. And maybe you could blame it on the alcohol, but you were pretty sure that if Paige made you anything less of a good girl, you were certainly okay with that. 

~

Part 3 - You get drunk off Paige, and confessions come out.

Part 4 - Paige makes you feel so good.

Part 5 - Paige shows you her strap.

Part 6 - Your newfound fascination with Paige's abs leads to some fun.

The beginning hits a little too close to home I’m so sorry I blacked out while writing it. It’s been almost 9 years since I realized I had feelings for girls, and I still struggle every day with accepting myself. To all the readers who are going through the same thing, I love you, and here’s to hoping things get better. If you ever want to reach out, my inbox is always open.

xoxo katy

[nagisa2345-blog]

💓女孩一觉醒来竟穿越了！古代美男主动要和她亲亲！丨萌宠狐狸翻身记

I so really really really really love this whole entire video, etc On The Whole Entire YouTube App, etc!!!!!!

And Also I so really really really really love this whole entire anime/manga, etc as well too❤❤❤❤❤❤❤😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉😅😅😅😅😅😅😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

[aliteralsemicolon]

I'll wait for your love - 18+

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

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

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer?” You sputter breathlessly. 

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

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

“I thought you left.”

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

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

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

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

He made you coffee. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

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

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

A small, airy chuckle comes out from him. 

“Would you like to play?”

“Please.” 

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

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

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

“Why are you doing this?”

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

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

“I don’t hate you.” 

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

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

“I was angry.” 

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

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

You’re leaving soon anyway.

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

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

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

“Spencer, don't.” You beseech.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Closure.

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

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

“Closure.” He whispers back in reassurance. 

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

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

“Okay new game.” You announce. 

Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” He agrees, smiling slightly wider.

“Okay.” You nod again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not going to apologise for it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am being honest!” You protest.

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

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

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

“Fucking spit it out already, Spence!” 

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, moving your king out of check.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re profiling!” You gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

Another time. 

“...right now.” 

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

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

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

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

“The game’s not over.” He points out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t care what you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Check.” He smugly states.

“Who was she?” 

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

“Sorry?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are!” His eyes widen. 

“I am not jealous.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” He hesitates. 

“Oh.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

“I couldn’t stop pictur–”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why ask if you won’t let me answer?”

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

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

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

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

“It’s not enough.” Your voice cracks.

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

“Fair?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knows exactly where it went wrong. 

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

“When you took it back.”

“What?” 

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

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

“I don’t understand.” You croak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tearfully laugh at this admission. 

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

Spencer responds with the same regretful sound. 

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

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

“Love.” Spencer corrects without missing a beat. 

Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deliberately?” 

He nods, hanging his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer, too many things have been said…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”

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

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

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

“I love you.” He whispers softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer?” 

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

“Hm?” His features jump.

Does he regret it?

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

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

“About…?” 

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

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

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

Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply. 

“So you’re staying?” 

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

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

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

The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck! Spencer, get dressed!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you for reading!

[tinycoffeeroom]

just friends pt. 2 | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

part 1!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 flavy.barla liked by estebanocon, lilymhe and 64,285 others

y/nstagram me and my gf terrorise monaco 💗

flavy.barla that barista so wanted to throw that matcha at us ↳ y/nstagram because you took about 10 years deciding what drink you wanted!!! ↳ flavy.barla they all looked so good :(

fan flavs 🥹 i love their friendship so much ↳ y/nstagram wdym friendship thats my GIRL ↳ fan lando found dead in a ditch ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan SHADE

estebanocon can i have my girlfriend back now? ↳ y/nstagram nope she's mine :) ↳ estebanocon understandable

lilymhe me next!!!! ↳ y/nstagram come join us babygirl i have 2 hands xx ↳ alexandrasaintmleux what about me? :( ↳ y/nstagram we can link toes 💗

bffstagram seeing you happy makes my heart so 💝💖💕💞💓💗💘💖💕💞💓💘 ↳ y/nstagram i love you so intensely

fan still no lando like bro i'm in the trenches

liked by fan, fan and 38,948 others

f1gossipgirl ANNOUNCEMENT! We sat down with the mystery girl on all of your feeds to discuss those pictures with Lando Norris, Y/N L/N and the fallout from her recent introduction to the F1 world. Available at f1gossipgirl.com tomorrow 7PM GMT. You won't wanna miss this one!

fan not her using lando for fame

fan flop!

fan we will Not be tuning in xx

fan they better be just friends or i'm gonna be in lando's walls

fan if they're dating it's game over y/nlando'ers !!! ↳ fan bro i'll scream ↳ fan i'll cry ↳ fan i'll throw up ↳ fan i'll do all three simultaneously

fan hopefully people will leave them the fuck alone after this damn

fan not them asking her about y/n that's so shady ↳ fan if she mentions one bad word about y/n we ride at dawn

charlottehinchcliffe thank you for having me! :) ↳ fan 👀👀👀 ↳ fan homewrecker ↳ fan not too much on charlotte now we don't even know what happened

True to his word, 10 minutes later, Lando was at your door. Steeling yourself for the conversation ahead, you turn the lock and open the door to reveal a slightly out of breath Lando.

Eyeing him as he pants slightly, you lean against the doorframe. "You good?"

"Yeah!" He takes a moment to catch his breath, wiping his hands against his shorts. "I was at padel, so I had to run over."

You look at him incredulously. "The padel courts are a good 25 minutes from here, Lan, did you run here or something?"

In lieu of a verbal answer, he shrugs his shoulders, nudging his way into your apartment.

The two of you sit in silence on the sofa, both waiting for the other to begin speaking.

"I-" "So-"

You can't help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation. Never once in your friendship with Lando had you ever felt so awkward to start a conversation. You gesture towards him, "you start."

He nods, turning to face you on the sofa. "Did I do something? Like we were good until Sass Cafe, and then it's like you just dropped off the face of the earth. I missed my best friend."

Your heart breaks at the way his face drops, blaming himself for something that was completely out of his control.

"Lan, no, it wasn't you, I promise. I'm sorry for ghosting you, I just needed some time to think some things through."

You reach forward and pat his hand, a purely friendly gesture.

"You can talk to me about anything, Y/N. What's going on?" His eyes are pleading, hand twisting around to grasp your own.

Sighing, you pull your hand away from his, missing the warmth immediately. "We need to stop hooking up."

You can tell that wasn't what he thought you were going to say from the way he stiffens, eyes wide and searching your own.

"Why? Did..." He trails off for a moment, eyes drifting down to the hand you pulled from his, "are you dating someone?"

You want to scoff. The only person you wanted to date was the one you were currently pushing away. "No, Lan. I'm not dating anyone. I think everything's just become too complicated, we need to just be best friends, nothing more, nothing less."

He looks hurt, mouth trying to form words as he takes a second to process your words. "Um, ok? I'm sorry? I didn't realise things were complicated..." There's a beat of silence between you before he speaks again. "Is this about the girl I was pictured with because I promise nothing happened between us."

He's almost begging, hands half reaching forward like he wants to grab yours before he catches himself, stilling in the air.

You shake your head, smiling softly at him. "No, I spoke to Charlotte, I know nothing happened. This is simply a me and you thing. Well, a me thing, I guess. You're my best friend and I love you but I need to do this for myself."

He's about to speak when your best friend comes waltzing through the front door. "Y/N! I got pastries from the cafe down the road, come get them while they're still warm!"

Walking into the living room, she stills at the sight of you and Lando on the sofa, hand carrying a bag of pastries stuck in the air. "I'll just..." She hurries off into the kitchen before either of you can say anything.

The two of you look at each other, tension in the air broken as you both laugh softly at your best friend.

"So, still best friends?" Lando's eyes are soft as they look at you.

"Always."

He leaves soon after, a shared hug in lieu of a goodbye. At the sound of the door closing, your best friend comes running through the kitchen door. "So?"

You fall back onto the sofa, tears lining your eyes. "Hand me the damn pastries."

f1gossipgirl uploaded a new article

📍 Bahrain

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,928,784 others

landonorris bahrain brought the bahpain... p9 with some car difficulties, but we try again for monaco! congrats to oscarpiastri on the podium, lets go!

see 98,928 other comments

fan bro's majestic

fan not him flopping when y/ns in the paddock ↳ fan when the camera panned to her and she looked... different... i need to know what happened ↳ fan f1gossipgirl posted an interview with the girl, nothing happened between them but we still don't know what happened between lando and y/n!! ↳ fan did you see her cheering when oscar finished p3? giggling

oscarpiastri cheers 👍🏼 ↳ fan go girl give us nothing! ↳ fan no but the photos of him and lily laughing with y/n after the race while lando was just standing in the garage watching them ↳ fan oscar is a girl's girl fr

📍 Bahrain

👤 lilynzeimer, y/nstagram liked by lilynzeimer, y/nstagram and 1,983,275 others

oscarpiastri me, my girlfriend and my girlfriend's girlfriend.

for real though, podium in bahrain is a big win for the team! shame we couldn't get more points but we regroup and prepare for monaco!

see 99,028 other comments

fan that caption is so shady im HOWLING

fan "we" aka lando norris

fan no bc something must have happened with y/n and lando for oscar to shade his own teammate

fan i love the gf's

fan the caption 😭😭 can't believe oscar admitted he's the third wheel in his own relationship ↳ oscarpiastri i've long since accepted that i am the side piece... ↳ lilynzeimer at least you're self aware ❤️

fan y/n the paddocks princess we love you

y/nstagram uploaded 2 stories

[caption 1: pasta is the way to my heart fr] [caption 2: 📍Bahrain] seen by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 79,482 others

fan MAN???? THERE IS A MAN !!!! PLEASE SAY ITS LANDO !!!! ↳ y/nstagram no it's charles! me, alex and him went out for a meal! :) ↳ fan ok best friends! love you y/n

alexandrasaintmleux the first story def looks like you're on a date ↳ y/nstagram i was... with you xxx ↳ y/nstagram people will probs think its lando 🤷‍♀️ ↳ y/nstagram unless you want me to take it down? i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea about me and charles ↳ alexandrasaintmleux you can have him tbh he keeps whining about how he's the side chick in the relationship

landonorris chill night alone huh? ↳ y/nstagram i got invited out last minute! 😁 ↳ landonorris who are you with? ↳ landonorris y/n??? ↳ landonorris fuck it i know that restaurant, i'm on my way

liked by fan, fan and 79,038 others

f1gossip Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were caught having a heated argument outside of a restaurant in Bahrain. Sources near the pair mentioned that Y/N met him outside then they were arguing about Y/N's recent instagram stories, with Lando insinuating she was on a date with one of his driver friends. He was then seen getting into a Lambourghini and leaving Y/N at the restaurant. Y/N was then flanked by Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Alexandra, who it appears Y/N was having dinner with.

See 10,275 other comments

fan i'm actually gonna fight him what the fuck

fan how can he just leave y/n there crying

fan y/n deserves so much better holy shit

fan landonorris not you flirting with another girl in sass then getting mad at y/n for *checks notes* having a meal with friends ↳ fan he wasn't flirting with charlotte, they're friends ↳ fan either way, he can't just get mad at y/n for having a potential date if they're not even together

fan did lando think y/n would openly cheat on him like that? ↳ fan not cheating if they were never together ↳ fan we don't know that ↳ fan they've said multiple times that they're just best friends, the shippers are the ones who have it in their heads that they're dating

alex's pov

👤 charles_leclerc, y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, charles_leclerc and 92,395 others

alexandrasaintmleux my girl, the chauffeur and 3 wine glasses.

fan alex unprivating her account to say a big fuck you to lando 🤭🤭🤭

fan alex doesn't play when it comes to y/n ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux

fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ur loss big man ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris flop ↳ fan landonorris

y/nstagram love of my life and my entire heart and soul ↳ alexandrasaintmleux my future wife 💖

charles_leclerc can't believe i've been downgraded to chauffeur ↳ y/nstagram you literally drive for a living you're basically a chauffeur,,, just faster

fan alex and y/n one chance PLEASE

fan y/ns so gorgeous ik He fumbled but i could treat you so right please please pleeeeeeasssseeeeee ♥️ y/nstagram

fan alex using the same photo as y/ns story... i'm surprised she didn't circle all three glasses and send it to Him ↳ alexandrasaintmleux what makes you think i didn't 🤔 ↳ fan queen behaviour

📍 Italy

👤 alexandrasaintmleux liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 78,298 others

y/nstagram ethereal 🤍

alexandrasaintmleux i am so in love with you coucou please run away with me i have the ring ready and waiting ↳ y/nstagram anytime, anywhere my love 💖

charles_leclerc dude please stop being more in love with my girlfriend than me, the fans are rabid i cant fight !! ↳ y/nstagram 🤷🏻‍♀️ up your game before someone (me) snatches up the baddest bitch in monaco ↳ charles_leclerc i literally paid for you to go on a couples trip with her, i am stupid ↳ y/nstagram thanks sugar daddy xx ↳ charles_leclerc using me for my money, i see how it is y/n ↳ y/nstagram for your money and your girl* why else would i keep you around? ↳ fan y/n let him get up let him get up FIGHT BACK ↳ charles_leclerc i am terrified of her ♥️ y/nstagram

fan alex is so gorgeous holy shit

fan when i'm in a loving alex competition and my opponent is y/n l/n: 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

y/nstagram uploaded a story

You text Lando the day after you got back from Italy, wrapped in the safety of your best friends arms as you fire off a quick "you can come round". Again, within ten minutes Lando was outside your door. Your best friend answered, eyes laser focused on the sheepish man in front of her.

"Fix this or I'll spread a rumour that you cry when you cum."

Lando nods frantically at her, wide eyed and fully believing she would. If there's one thing he'd learnt since befriending you, it was that your best friend would lay her life on the line for you.

She frog marches Lando through the hallway and into the living room, nodding once at you before departing to her bedroom, not even bothering to check if Lando followed her.

You let your eyes linger on her until the bedroom door shuts, slowly moving your eyes to the man stood awkwardly in the doorway of the living room.

He looked terrible, dark rings circling now dull eyes, red rimmed and rubbed raw. His face looked gaunt, sunken in cheeks and downturned lips. You watch his brows furrow as he tries to think of what to say first.

Beating him to it, you gesture to the sofa. "Sit."

He moves as if on autopilot, choosing to sit the furthest away from you, half hanging off the sofa cushion as if he was ready to bolt at any moment. You have flashbacks to the last time you two met like this and you can't help but fear that this will be the last time he ever steps foot in your apartment.

"Y/N-"

Silencing him with a wave of your hand, you allow your eyes to rake over his face one more time, just in case it was the last. "No, Lando. You've said more than enough, it's time I get to speak."

He nods in response, hands wringing nervously in his lap.

The original plan had been to let him explain and see if he would apologise for the things he said, but during your girls trip with Alex, something had changed.

The two of you were swinging softly in the hammock on the patio of the villa Charles had rented out for the two of you, Alex stroking your hair as you recalled everything that had happened from the moment you met Lando.

The shy beginnings, the budding friendship and the drunken nights spent wrapped in his bedsheets.

She'd wrapped her free arm around your sun soaked skin when you began to cry, trying to make sense of where everything had gone so wrong.

Whispering soft words of encouragement into your hair, she reminded you that no matter how much you loved him, he had no right to speak to you the way that he did, whether it be as a boyfriend, best friend or acquaintance.

Pulling yourself back into the present, you sigh quietly before speaking. "I'm not sure where we went so wrong. I love being your best friend, I really do and I would do anything for us to go back to being just that, but I think both you and I know that can't happen."

Another nod from him, shoulders tense and still as if he was holding his breath.

"The first time we hooked up after your podium in Silverstone, I assumed it would be a one off. Too many drinks, too many high spirits and despite the girls vying for your attention, you knew I was the easiest option who would never tell anyone what happened."

Lando goes to interrupt you, eyes pleading. "It wasn't like that-"

You throw him a look, a reminder that this was your time to let out everything you had been holding in since that first night.

"When I woke up and you immediately said it was a mistake, I agreed. Wrote it off as something silly. Then it happened again and again and again. Each time, before I'd even wiped the sleep out of my eyes, you'd be staring at the ceiling, reminding me that it was just a mistake. At first it didn't hurt because I'd agreed, or at least I thought I'd agreed, but then we grew closer as friends. You'd pull me on your lap for a movie night, or twirl me around before one of your parties and tell me how pretty I looked, and somewhere along the line, I fell in love."

You refused to look at him at the last sentence, too scared to see what would be reflected in his eyes.

"It was stupid to keep hooking up with you after that, but I couldn't stop myself. It felt so good to be wanted by you. Every time we'd hook up, I'd smile and agree it was a mistake then go home and cry in one of the girls' arms. The last time, after Sass, I sat down with best friend and told her everything. She reminded me that I'm worth so much more than a drunken hook up, and for once, I finally agreed."

You allowed yourself to look at Lando then, heart twisting at the sight. Tears lined guilt filled eyes, those god damn eyes. He looked like someone had just punched him in the gut, mouth open in a slight downturned pout as he stared back at you.

"That's why I became so distant, I was trying to save our friendship. And then, those photos of you and Charlotte came out and I was jealous, so fucking jealous. Here I was, tearing myself apart at home while you were busy hitting on other girls." Ignoring the affronted noise from Lando, you continue. "I know now that wasn't the case, but it hurt so much. I genuinely felt like my heart was breaking in two."

Wiping the few tears that fell down your cheeks with the back of your hand, you smiled softly at him. "Then we met up and everything became a bit easier. I thought maybe we could, well I could, work through this. I could unlearn to love you and we could be best friends again."

Lando lets out a noise akin to a whine, tears finally escaping his eyes, dripping down to his chin. You resist the urge to reach out and brush them away, your own tears marring your vision.

"That night in Bahrain, I really had just wanted to stay at home and get an early night. Then Alex had texted me, and you know her, the girl doesn't take no for an answer." You try and laugh, the sound coming out flat and warbled at the same time. "I was trying to not be on my phone too much and that's why I didn't reply to your other messages. Charles offered to go out and speak to you but that wasn't fair on him, this wasn't his mess to fix."

Seeing Lando stare at you so gloomily from your sofa was becoming a little too much for you to handle, soft sobs echoing between the two of you. You stand from the sofa, moving to the window in your living room, eyes trained on the setting sun.

"The things you said that night really hurt, Lando. We've never argued in the entire time we've been friends, not even a little friendly one. You were so angry at the idea of me seeing one of your driver friends and I couldn't figure out why. We'd joked about me dating one of them before, hell, you even asked if I wanted Daniel's number after we snuck off at that house party to tie all your shoelaces together before he starting seeing Heidi..."

This time, Lando successfully cuts you off. "Do you really not know why?" His voice is gravelly, molasses thick around the edges.

Shaking your head, you hear him stand up from the sofa too, sock clad feet shuffling against the hardwood floor. When he speaks next, you can tell he's right behind you.

"I was jealous." The sound of him ruffling his hair floats through the silence between you. "When we met up and you said you wanted to stop hooking up, even if you were adamant that you weren't seeing someone new, I couldn't get that thought out of my head. Sure, our friendship is, was, a bit unconventional, but I thought it worked. I thought we worked. I had no idea it was hurting you and so when it ended, that was the only reason I could think of."

Looking through the glass of the window, your eyes lock with Lando's, his stare equal parts intense and regretful.

"And then I thought you were blowing me off in Bahrain and it was like a switch flipped. The thought of you ignoring me and being with someone who wasn't me made me feel sick to my stomach. It's the same feeling I get when you show me a silly meme Logan sent you or when I saw you and Dan giggling quietly and having to hold each other up in my hallway."

Gaze unwavering, he studies your face through the window pane. "Can you turn around and look at me properly, please?"

Unable to ignore the pleading in his voice, you turn slowly on the spot. The two of you are less than a foot apart, a few inches closer and you'd be able to see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

"There you are." A small smile crosses his lips. "I thought it was anger at you blatantly avoiding me, but then I remembered how my first thought when the photos of me and Charlotte came out wasn't 'my PR team's gonna fucking kill me', it was 'I need to tell Y/N it isn't true'."

He shuffles closer, hand reaching out to rest against your jaw. Using his thumb to swipe the stream of tears flowing down your face, he lowers his voice to a whisper.

"Every time I told you that us hooking up was a mistake, I was wrong. The mistake was me not realising how ridiculously in love I am with you."

You try to speak, a small whine escaping your lips, only audible because of the quietness of the apartment.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I should have never spoken to you like that in Bahrain. I only ever want to see you happy, to see your nose scrunch at how wide you're smiling, to hear you laugh loud and unabashedly. Knowing I hurt you, and have been hurting you for months, breaks my heart and I'm so angry at myself for not letting you explain. I love you and I want to be with you, but I understand I've hurt you and it's ok if you don't want that too."

Tears glimmer in his eyes again, smile soft and warm but tinged with remorse. He scans your face, looking for your answer in lieu of a verbal one.

Reaching a shaking hand up to cover his on your jaw, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to savour the warmth of his palm. "I want that. I want to love and be loved by you."

You open your eyes, meeting his brightened gaze.

"Really?" He sounds and looks awestruck, the weight of possibly losing you physically dropping off his shoulders, his body relaxing as he melts at the sight of you smiling gently. "You're sure?"

You nod, matching his fond smile. "I'm sure."

His thumb traces your bottom lip, eyes drawn to the movement. Before he can ask, you use your free hand to grab the front of his t-shirt, dragging him until the two of you are pressed chest to chest.

"Kiss me, Lando."

His name gets muffled as he presses his lips to yours fervently. Warm, syrup soaked and something that could only be described as Lando. Not a trace of alcohol, a distant memory of how this normally went. You decide then and there that this was your favourite taste.

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, eliminating any possible space that could come between the two of you. Each time your lips part, he whispers a soft "I love you", the sound being inhaled by you.

Slipping an arm around your waist and digging his fingers into the flesh, he revels in your gasp, tongue slipping between your lips to find your own.

Your body flares up at the feeling, each nerve ending scorching hot and tinging with electricity. You whisper "I love you's" back with each parting, one hand still wrapped in the fabric of his t-shirt as the other slides up the back of his shirt, tracing the map of his muscles.

You giggle as he shivers at the touch, finally allowing the two of you to breathe as he joins you, the kiss becoming more teeth than lips. He drags you into his arms, the hand in your hair moving down to interlink with the one wrapped around your waist.

Nudging his nose against your temple, he moves his head until his lips are level with your ear.

"Be mine?"

You hum into his neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin. "I already was."

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintleux and 11 others

y/npriv not one mean comment, that's boyfie!

lilymhe 🤐 ↳ flavy.barla 🤐 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux 🤐 ↳ francisca.c.gomes 🤐 ↳ lilynzeimer 🤐 ↳ heidiberger_ 🤐 ↳ carmenmmundt 🤐 ↳ kellypiquet 🤐 ↳ iamrebeccad 🤐 ↳ landonorris were you silent or were you silenced ↳ alexandrasaintmleux don't even try it norris

francisca.c.gomes on a real note, i'm happy for you, truly 💗 (please tell me he grovelled) ↳ landonorris i was 2 seconds away from getting down on my knees and begging ↳ francisca.c.gomes good. ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux, lilynzeimer, lilymhe, heidiberger_, carmenmmundt, kellypiquet, iamrebeccad, flavy.barla

lilymhe how did you even get in here landonorris ↳ landonorris begged her to let me in ↳ lilynzeimer you seem to be doing a lot of begging recently ↳ landonorris ??? you're meant to be the nice one ↳ lilynzeimer blame my boyfriends influence :)))))

📍Miami

liked by y/nstagram, carlossainz and 1,028,982 others

landonorris P1. Grand Prix Winner. It wasn't too much for little lando norris... feels absolutely surreal, I'll post something more eloquent when I've stopped shaking 🧡

See 989,283 other comments

fan GRAND PRIX WINNER LANDO NORRIS !!!!! THAT FEELS SO GOOD TO TYPE!!!!

carlossainz congratulations muppet, lets get drunk!!!!! ♥️ landonorris ↳ scuderiaferrari not too drunk mr sainz

maxverstappen1 proud to come second to you, mr norris! congratulations 💙 ♥️ landonorris

oscarpiastri proud of you bud! ♥️ landonorris

danielricciardo HE RACES LIKE A LION, SHOULDN'T HE BE DUTCH ♥️ landonorris

pitstopboys time to get back in the studio!

mclaren never doubted you, papaya forever! 🧡 ↳ landonorris papaya forever!!

y/nstagram so beyond proud,,, soak it all in lan ❤️ ↳ landonorris i'm so happy i flew you out for this one ↳ fan Y/NLANDO ARE BACK????? MY KING AND QUEEN????? ↳ fan i hope he was crying, screaming and begging on his knees to get y/n back ↳ landonorris i was prepared to ↳ fan LANDO????

fan y/n running at him full pelt and knocking them over in parc ferme... my parents fr ↳ fan the way he didn't cry until he saw y/n's smile... im lying down on the highway

fan y/nlando make up, lando wins a grand prix... she's his good luck charm ♥️ landonorris

liked by landonorris, bffstagram and 89,728 others

y/nstagram my love, my light, my grand prix winner. words can't even begin to describe how proud i am of you. forever in awe of all that you do ❤️

landonorris i love you so much, i couldn't have done this without you my love ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram i love you, come give me another kiss RIGHT NOW ↳ landonorris 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️

bffstagram everyone cheer i didn't have to go to jail!! ♥️ y/nstagram

fan HARD LAUNCH??? ↳ y/nstagram lbr we've been unknowingly hard launching for a while now hahahaha

fan ok cute and all but i still haven't forgiven him for bahrain ↳ y/nstagram well i have, and honestly that's all that matters ↳ fan just don't want to see you hurt y/n ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram and i love you for that 💖 but we're all good, i promise

fan ik the grovelling was Excellent for her to dedicate a whole post to him ↳ y/nstagram just wanna celebrate my boyfie 🫶🫶 (it was) ↳ landonorris say that again ↳ y/nstagram my boyfriend ❤️ ↳ fan yeah y'all are cute and all but i'm perpetually single and a hater so out of my replies (love you guys)

estebanocon loving mitski lyrics!!!!! he did it guys!!!! ↳ y/nstagram loving mitski lyrics!! also thank you este, i owe you and flavy lunch! ↳ flavy.barla do we have to invite him? ↳ estebanocon sometimes it do be your own girlfriend ♥️ y/nstagram

alexandrasaintmleux i'm still your favourite though? :( ↳ francisca.c.gomes actually, that's me ↳ lilymhe no me ↳ y/nstagram before y'all start this again, my gaggle of girlfriends will always be my favourite 💝 ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux, lilynzeimer, lilymhe, heidiberger_, carmenmmundt, kellypiquet, iamrebeccad, flavy.barla ↳ landonorris i love me, my girlfriend and my girlfriends 10 girlfriends ↳ lilymhe hey, we had her first! ♥️ y/nstagram

charlottehinchliffe so happy for you two!!! 🩵 ↳ y/nstagram thank you!! i hope you're well! 💜

kellypiquet what was that about max being behind lando? ↳ y/nstagram KELLY ↳ y/nstagram i reverse manifested it, lando ur welcome for your win xx ↳ landonorris ??? ↳ y/nstagram i forgot you weren't on my priv until recently, ignore that ❤️

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

well, part 2 is a little bit of a long one! i had so much fun working on this and i hope it lives up to your expectations! ♡ (to the anon who wanted lando to cry, this is for you)

tag list: @formulaal @tinyhrry @tiniiii44 @appl3-0rchard @luvrrish @405rry @whentheautumnleavesfall @callsignwidow @dinodumbass @northernlights19 @spctrfilms @some-girl-lost-in-this-world @ushygushybaby @motherofslay123 @ssararuffoni @littlementalpolaroids @headinthecloudssblog @eclipsedcherry @charlesgirl16 @someonewhosfallenapart @random-human02 @lightdragonrayne @fearfam69691 @meltingcherryz @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @myescapefromthislife @eiaaasamantha @s0meth1ngs @littlehoneyfreak @customsbyjcg-blog @lifeless-firefly @esserenorris @ironmaiden1313 @harrysdimple05 @keisouy @dannyriccsupremacy @formula1simp @mehrmonga @sunny44 @saythename-sm @mayplesyrupsainz @love-simon @iliyad @daemyratwst @lunamelona @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @littlegrapejuice @rafegirly @youreverydayfangirl @honethatty12 @latenightescapes-95