#Front-End Developer jobs

[leoreadss]

I just had the best interview ever.

I had to show them my blender Whickber Street Project, which they loved.

The Bentley was the cherry on top! I really hope to get the job! NEed to send them some coding work and some Blender renders!

Finger Crossed my fellows!

P.S. I was wearing my Aziraphale's ring!

[t4t4terezi]

did my hair

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

Everyone loves to tell me about their buddy who makes 6 figures working as a developer for Adobe or whatever who never had a day of college in their life. But nobody loves to tell me about jobs they know of that are hiring less experienced software developers without degrees. Odd 🤔

[fromfaewithlove]

I had a meeting like literally 10 hours ago and I’m still stressing about it!

[recruit-g]

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[codedusoftware]

How Custom Software Development Transforms Modern Businesses: Insights from CodEduIn an era dominated by rapid technological advancements, businesses are under immense pressure to stay competitive, efficient, and customer-focused. Off-the-shelf software, while useful, often falls short in addressing the unique challenges and dynamic needs of individual businesses. This is where custom software development steps in—a solution tailored specifically to meet the requirements of a business.

CodEdu Software Technologies, based in Cochin, Kerala, specializes in creating innovative, customer-centric software solutions that empower businesses to streamline operations, improve productivity, and enhance customer experiences. In this blog, we’ll explore how custom software development is transforming modern businesses and why partnering with CodEdu can be a game-changer.

What Is Custom Software Development? Custom software development involves designing, developing, and deploying software solutions tailored to meet a business's specific requirements. Unlike generic, off-the-shelf software, custom solutions are built from the ground up to align with a company’s processes, goals, and challenges.

This personalized approach allows businesses to create tools that integrate seamlessly with their existing operations, enhancing efficiency and providing a competitive edge.

The Key Benefits of Custom Software Development

Tailored to Specific Business Needs Custom software is designed to address a company’s unique requirements. Whether it’s automating a workflow, integrating with other tools, or solving specific challenges, the solution is built to fit seamlessly into the business ecosystem.

For example, an e-commerce business may require a software system that combines inventory management, personalized customer recommendations, and a secure payment gateway. Off-the-shelf software may provide one or two of these features but rarely all in an integrated manner.

Enhanced Efficiency and Productivity Custom software eliminates redundancies and streamlines operations. By automating repetitive tasks and integrating seamlessly with existing tools, businesses can significantly reduce manual effort and focus on core activities.

CodEdu has worked with several businesses to create custom solutions that enhance efficiency. One notable example is a manufacturing client who needed real-time tracking of production cycles. The tailored solution reduced delays and optimized resource allocation, saving the client both time and money.

Scalability for Future Growth One of the major limitations of off-the-shelf software is its inability to scale. As businesses grow and evolve, their software needs change. Custom software, on the other hand, is designed with scalability in mind.

CodEdu’s solutions are built to grow alongside businesses, allowing for easy updates and additional features as new challenges and opportunities arise.

Improved Security Data security is a top concern for businesses today. Custom software allows for the integration of advanced security features tailored to the specific vulnerabilities of the organization.

Unlike generic solutions that use standard security protocols, custom software incorporates unique safeguards, making it harder for malicious actors to breach the system.

Cost-Effectiveness in the Long Run While the initial investment for custom software may be higher than purchasing off-the-shelf solutions, it offers significant savings in the long run. Businesses avoid recurring licensing fees, third-party tool integration costs, and inefficiencies caused by mismatched software capabilities.

Real-World Applications of Custom Software Development Custom software development is revolutionizing industries by offering solutions that address specific operational challenges. Here are some examples of how businesses are leveraging tailored solutions:

E-Commerce Industry E-commerce companies face unique challenges, such as managing large inventories, providing personalized customer experiences, and ensuring secure transactions. Custom software can integrate inventory management systems, CRM tools, and AI-driven recommendation engines into a single platform, streamlining operations and boosting sales.

Healthcare Sector The healthcare industry requires solutions that ensure patient confidentiality, streamline appointment scheduling, and manage medical records efficiently. Custom software allows healthcare providers to deliver telemedicine services, maintain compliance with industry regulations, and improve patient outcomes.

Education and Training Educational institutions and training academies are leveraging custom Learning Management Systems (LMS) to provide personalized learning experiences. CodEdu has developed platforms that enable online assessments, real-time feedback, and interactive learning tools for students.

Logistics and Supply Chain Logistics companies require software that provides real-time tracking, route optimization, and automated billing. CodEdu has partnered with logistics providers to build solutions that reduce operational costs and enhance customer satisfaction.

How CodEdu Approaches Custom Software Development At CodEdu Software Technologies, we believe in a collaborative, customer-centric approach to software development. Here’s how we ensure the delivery of high-quality solutions:

Understanding Business Needs Our process begins with a detailed consultation to understand the client’s goals, pain points, and operational workflows. This ensures that the solution aligns perfectly with the business’s requirements.

Agile Development Methodology We adopt an agile approach to development, breaking the project into smaller, manageable phases. This allows for flexibility, regular feedback, and timely delivery of the final product.

Cutting-Edge Technology Our team leverages the latest technologies, including AI, machine learning, cloud computing, and blockchain, to deliver innovative and robust solutions.

Ongoing Support and Maintenance Software development doesn’t end with deployment. We provide ongoing support and updates to ensure the solution remains effective as the business evolves.

Future Trends in Custom Software Development The world of custom software development is continuously evolving. Here are some trends that are shaping the future:

AI and Machine Learning Integration Artificial Intelligence (AI) and machine learning are enabling businesses to automate processes, predict trends, and provide personalized customer experiences. From chatbots to predictive analytics, these technologies are transforming industries.

Cloud-Based Solutions Cloud computing is revolutionizing software development by offering scalability, accessibility, and cost efficiency. Businesses are increasingly adopting cloud-based custom software to enable remote access and collaboration.

IoT-Driven Solutions The Internet of Things (IoT) is creating opportunities for custom software that connects devices and collects data in real-time. This is particularly beneficial in industries such as healthcare, logistics, and manufacturing.

Low-Code and No-Code Platforms Low-code and no-code platforms are simplifying the development process, allowing businesses to create custom software with minimal technical expertise. While not a replacement for traditional development, these platforms are enabling faster prototyping and iteration.

Why Choose CodEdu for Custom Software Development? CodEdu Software Technologies stands out as a trusted partner for custom software development. Here’s why:

Experienced Team: Our developers bring years of experience in crafting innovative solutions for diverse industries. Customer-Centric Approach: We prioritize your business goals, ensuring the software delivers real value. Proven Track Record: With a portfolio of successful projects, CodEdu has earned a reputation for delivering quality and reliability. End-to-End Services: From consultation to development and post-deployment support, we handle every aspect of the project. Conclusion Custom software development is no longer an option but a necessity for businesses aiming to stay competitive in today’s digital landscape. It empowers organizations to streamline operations, enhance security, and deliver exceptional customer experiences.

CodEdu Software Technologies, with its expertise in innovation and customer-centric solutions, is the ideal partner to help businesses harness the power of custom software. Whether you’re a startup looking to establish a strong foundation or an established enterprise aiming to optimize operations, our tailored solutions can drive your success.

Ready to transform your business? Contact CodEdu Software Technologies today and let’s build the future together.

[jobsmicro]

Front End Developer Trainee

Title:  Openings for Front End Developer Fresher

Role: Trainee

Location: Nagpur

Qualification: BE (any stream) MCA, BCA, BCCA, BSC, MSC.

Skills:

Html,css

Javascript

Sql

Description:

Learn Html and css.

Learn Boootstrap grid,table,navigation,navbar,dropdown,corousel etc.

Learn Css Flex box.

Learn designing concept of UI vs UX.

Learn Javascript variables,functions,operators,arrays,string etc.

Learn Javascript approach,tweet count,fibonacci series,fizzbuzz challenge etc.

Learn jquery benefits and how to embed jquery in website.

Benefits:

Placement Guarantee

Technical and Practical Training

Training by Professional Developers

Internship will be included in this program

Live Projects

Training Certification

6months Internship Certification will be provided.

Apply Here => Jobs Micro

[classyrbf]

HE'S SUCH A (HOT) LOSER! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons about loser!choso bc I can’t get him out of my head after righting that drabble about him

INFO...loser!choso x fem!reader, socially awkward, virgin!choso, jerking off, virginity loss, sexual acts, creampie,

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

loser!choso who literally has no friends, is the epitome of socially awkward and always ends making the conversation weird when he opens his mouth

loser!choso who has never seen a woman naked in real life, he just goes on porn sites and jerks his dick until it feels like it’s about to fall off, cum painted on his toned stomach

loser!choso who has sex toys in his closet, fleshlights, pocket pussies, whatever you call them—he has at least two, one of them even vibrates

loser!choso who is (you guessed it) a total virgin, he’s never even gotten close enough to lose it, yet alone have his first kiss

loser!choso who is forced by yuji to go on a dating app and try to find a girlfriend, and he ends up matching with you

loser!choso who stays in his room, playing video games, or goes to the gym, otherwise the poor boy has no social life (like I said, he has no friends)

loser!choso who finally goes on his first date with you and he’s sweating, stumbling over his words because you’re smiling at him, grabbing his hand and making jokes all while looking like some sort of goddess. He was starting to wonder if he’s dreaming

loser!choso who is absolutely stunned when you express how cute you think he is, how nice his hair looks, and he doesn’t know how to react so he just stands there and smiles at you like a complete idiot

loser!choso who drives home after the date and he genuinely can’t wait to get home to jerk off to the thought of you, so he pulls into an empty parking and pulls his pants down right there, tip already leaking precum when he remembers the way your tits were popping out of you dress

loser!choso who thinks the date went horribly wrong until you’re texting him the next day, already planning the next time you meet up, weirdly inviting him over to your place

loser!choso who is obsessed with titties (clearly) no matter what size. He imagines himself getting a hold of pair and just grabbing them, sucking them, it turns him on so bad

loser!choso who thinks nothing of going over your house until he gets his one wish, getting a hold of your tits in his hands, and he’s star struck, just groping, squeezing and without thinking he’s sucking on them

loser!choso who ends up losing his virginity a few minutes later with you bouncing up and down on his cock, pussy gushing around him. He’s in literal heaven and can barely think, brain turned to mush

loser!choso who realizes real sex is better than porn fairly quickly, and lets just say he becomes more obsessed with you than ever cause it’s so much more intimate when you’re holding him, praising him, calling him a good boy

loser!choso who cums in your pussy so many times that night, and the aftermath leaves him stuck in the same spot on your bed while you cuddle up to him and tell him how much you like him even if you’ve only known him for two days

loser!choso who now has his first ever girlfriend, his first everything with you and he can’t wait to brag to yuji about it because you’re absolutely gorgeous

loser!choso who shows you off on his social media despite the twenty followers that he has, he just want to show off his girlfriend to whoever he can

loser!choso who gets weird stares in public from other men when he’s out with you because he knows you’re way out of his league, but just to make them jealous he grabs you and kisses you in front of them

loser!choso who doesn’t develop a sense of fashion until he meets you, going to countless stores as you pick out outfits that’ll look good on him, and he won’t lie, you’ve done a very good job because he’s gained much more confidence in himself

loser!choso who goes on and on about his special interests and you sit there smiling at him, listening intently. He’s lowkey a nerd but you love it

loser!choso who hangs with no one but you, missing you constantly and randomly showing up at your house when he feels like you’ve spent too much time apart

loser!choso who wants to learn how to pleasure you more so he looks up videos on how to eat pussy and watches all the porn he can to study their movements, but when he tells you, you just laugh and say how silly he is, showing him a hands on tutorial, instructing him on what to do and what you like

loser!choso who constantly asks if he made you cum, poor baby doesn’t want you to go around unsatisfied so he doesn’t everything in his power to make you feel good no matter what

loser!choso who is (obviously) the quiet type, so he studies what you like and what you do by watching you and when he grabs your exact fast food order without you saying anything, you’re standing there confused and he’s looking down at you like “what?”

loser!choso who has a glow up because of you, and girls that have rejected him come crawling back into his life not knowing about you, so he just hits them with the “my beautiful girl who I love very much does not like you talking to me bye” and blocks them

loser!choso who is actually very sweet despite his awkwardness, he might look stand offish in person and act weird around others, but when he’s comfortable with you hes a different person

loser!choso who gets you anything you ask for, spending countless amounts of money on you even if you don’t ask for it, he just loves you so much he wants to show his appreciation in every way whether that’s spoiling you or making you cum

[emexotechnologies]

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[rynwrites4fun]

Across The Hall (5) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F! Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: It’s Career Day at school, and your boyfriend, who was supposed to talk about his job as a lawyer, cancels at the last minute due to a development in his case. When you tell Michael, he offers to step in and talk about being an ER doctor instead.

Word Count: 4340

Warnings: Age Gap (Mid 20s/Early 50s)

Authors Note: okay I know what you’re thinking….I know I said the next time I post wouldn’t be until first week of June… I lied…well more caved lol. I’m currently sick and at SUCH an inconvenient time for me. Like all the times for me to get sick and I get sick now. So here I am posting this to make me feel better lol. Anyway here is part 5. This is one of my favorite parts and I think you guys will like it too :) So THIS will have to hold you over until Part 6 that won’t be posted until JUNE lol. Also someone yell or scream at me to write and update Eyes On Me!!! Ya girls been too focused on Across The Hall. I left Jack Abbot hanging. How dare I??? Okay see you June. Freal this time. - ryn

“I can’t make it,” he says through the phone.

“What?” You already knew what he meant—career day. The one he promised he wouldn’t miss.

“We have an important meeting with the man we’re defending…”

“Aiden, you promised. My students are going to be disappointed. They’ve been looking forward to this all week—” Your voice cracks. There’s no backup plan. No one else to step in.

“He’s got something to confess. It’s going to change the entire trajectory of the case.”

And with that, you know. He has to go. It’s his job.

“Okay” you say, swallowing the pain down. “I…I understand”

You try to respond, but the lump in your throat makes it hard. Instead, you manage, “Good luck.”

A soft sigh comes through the line. “Thanks. I’ll call you later.”

No sorry. No “I’ll make it up to you.” Nothing.

Just the dull click of the call ending, like a door closing without a glance back.

You stare at the screen until it goes dark, your reflection staring back—tired eyes, tight jaw, the ache settling in deep and familiar. You want to scream. Or cry. Or both. But there’s no time.

It took everything just to sit up in bed.

You moved on autopilot—shower, clothes, coffee you barely tasted. Standing in front of the mirror, mascara wand trembling in your hand, you told yourself not to cry. Not today. Not on Career Day.

But the tears came anyway. Quiet, stubborn.

You dabbed at your face with a tissue, trying to fix the smudges.

You stared at your reflection, willing yourself to look like someone who had it all under control. Someone whose day wasn’t already unraveling.

Because today mattered.

Your students had been excited to meet a real lawyer, and now you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do. Panic swirled beneath the surface as your mind raced, trying to figure out how you were going to salvage the day. 

___

Michael left his apartment, expecting to see you come out. You didn’t. His face fell slightly. It wasn’t like you. Normally you’d leave around the same time he did for work. He stood there for a few minutes. 

hen you still didn’t appear, he sighed and headed toward the elevator. The doors slid open with a soft chime, and he stepped inside, trying not to let the quiet absence bother him.

“Wait!” you called out, your sneakers thud frantically against the tile as you rushed toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The doors were just beginning to slide closed, but Michael’s hand shot out, stopping them.

You slipped inside, breathing hard. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

Today was not your morning. Michael could tell the moment he saw you. Michael didn’t say anything right away. He just watched you as you stood there, clutching your water bottle like a lifeline, eyes unfocused and distant.

“You okay?” he asked finally, his voice gentle.

Two words but they cracked something in.

“I have career day at school today,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Aiden was supposed to do a presentation for my students, you know talk about being a lawyer”

Of course it’s something to do with Aiden, Michael thought. It always circles back to him.

“He promised he’d be there,” you continued, voice trembling. “something big came up with his case…”

You paused, blinking hard, trying not to break. “I spent the morning getting ready crying like an idiot, and now I’m just… trying to figure out how to fix it. For them.”

Your eyes didn’t meet his, but he was already moving close towards you. 

There was a short silence.

“I could do it,” he said, the words flying out his mouth before he could even think.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said I can do it. Career Day. I’ll come in.” He repeated, more firmly now. 

“You’re… serious?”

“Yeah, I mean—I could come talk to your class. About emergency medicine, or the ER, show them some tools, answer their questions… whatever your kids want to know.”

 “But don’t you work today? You got a whole ER full of patients and–”

“I’m sure my buddy Abbot would cover for an hour or two.” 

“You’d really do that?” you say in disbelief.

He gave a small shrug, but there was nothing casual about the way he looked at you.

“Yeah, of course,” he said—simple, easy. But his eyes lingered.

I’d do anything for you, he wanted to say.

There was something soft in his gaze, something protective. You were sweet—too sweet—and it stirred something in him he didn’t quite know how to name.

 “Just tell me when to show up and what you need. I’ll make it work.”

You couldn’t help it, you lit up. A full, radiant smile that overtook your whole face. Michael had never seen you smile like that before, not even on your best days. It was pure relief, gratitude.

You let out a joyful shriek, bouncing on your toes. “Thank you, Michael!” you exclaim, before throwing your arms around him in a sudden, heartfelt hug.

He chuckled at your excited shriek, the sound pulling a smile from him. The hug caught him off guard for just a second—but then his arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close. He liked this—holding you. It felt warm. Easy. Right.

You pulled back slightly, still smiling, your hands lingering on his arms. “Here, let me give you my number. I’ll text you the time and details. Exchanging numbers is long overdue"

Michael reached into his pocket for his phone, already unlocking it. “Better late than ever" he jokes. "Go ahead.” getting ready to dial your number.

You rattled off your number, watching him type it in. A moment later, your phone buzzed in your pocket, you pull it out—Michael Robinavitch flashed across the top of a new text.

“Got it" you smile.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

Already stepping out, rushing toward the lobby doors. The weight on your chest felt suddenly lighter.

“I’ve got to run a few things by the principal before first bell!” you added, walking backward for a step before turning to jog the rest of the way.

“You’re a lifesaver!” you called out, glancing over your shoulder.

Michael raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Well… that is kind of my job!”

“I’ll text you soon!” you shouted and vanished out the front doors and into the city.

Michael watched you run off, then slowly stepped out into the lobby. He lingered there before finally pulling out his phone again.

He scrolled through his messages and tapped on a name: Jack Abbott.

His fingers hovered for a moment over the keyboard—hesitant—then he began to type.

Hey, any chance you can cover my shift for a few hours today?

Yeah, I can swing that. Just let me know what time. Everything okay?

Michael paused for a second, thumb hovering over the screen. Then he continued typing:

Yeah. Just need to take care of something important.

A few dots blinked, then the reply came back:

Got it. Hope everything’s okay. Let me know if you need anything.

Michael read the message. Then he locked his phone, slipped it back into his pocket, and finally set off to work.

—-

“Jack! Thanks for coming in, man,” Michael said, pulling his friend into a quick hug as he met him by the employee/authorized personnel entry point. 

Jack clapped him on the back. “Yeah, no sweat. You okay?” Jack asked, slinging his army backpack over one shoulder as they walked through the ER.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… my neighbor needed a favor,” Michael muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Oh…that neighbor, huh?”

Michael looks at Jack, trying to rack his brain. Had he ever brought you up? He didn’t think so. Maybe once, late at night on the hospital roof? Or after that brutal shift, drinking beers on the bench at the park across the street? The memory’s hazy, softened by exhaustion.

Jack breaks the silence. “Dana might’ve mentioned her a week or so ago. Asked if I knew anything. I told her it was all news to me.”

Michael exhales sharply, a tired sigh pulled from somewhere deep. “Of course she did.”

Michael exhaled, already regretting the explanation. “She’s a 5th grade teacher. It’s career day at her school. Her boyfriend, a hotshot lawyer, bailed on her, so… I offered to fill in.”

Jack stopped mid-step, forcing Michael to halt as well. He looked Michael dead in the eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You like her.”

“What? No,” Michael said quickly, shaking his head and furrowing his brows. “It’s not like that.”

“That’s not what Dana said” he scoffs a laugh.

Michael runs a hand through his hair. “She’s a kid.”

Even as the words left his mouth, the lie stung. You’re not a kid. You’re a woman—smart, passionate, kind, beautiful—and yeah, younger than him. Way younger. But a kid? No. That wasn’t the truth. Not even close.

And despite everything, despite liking you, he knew one thing for certain: You deserved all the love in the world. The kind that’s attentive. That gives real attention. That cherishes you, sees you, hears you, takes care of you. A love you don’t have to beg for.

“How old is she?”

Michael was hesitant “Twenty-five…”

Jack exhales, loudly, obnoxiously and nods like he’s doing the math in his head.

“Okay, so maybe she’s on the younger side. But so what? If you like her, go for it.” He shrugs

“She’s a sweet girl, but her boyfriend’s—”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”

Michael nods slowly. “Yeah. He’s…”

“A jackass” Jack finished, grinning. 

Michael lets out a reluctant laugh as they continue walking. “That’s a kinder way to describe him than I would’ve, but sure. I haven’t met the guy officially, but from what I’ve gathered—and what I’ve seen…the way he treats her is infuriating.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the hum of monitors and distant voices filling the space between them.

“I’m just helping her out,” Michael said quietly.

Jack let the silence stretch, then chuckled. “Right. Just doing your neighborly duty.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’re stepping in for the jackass.”

Michael sighed. “It’s just career day.”

“With the woman you definitely don’t like.”

Michael shot him a look. “I’m doing a favor for a neighbor. She’s a friend. That’s it.” 

Jack didn’t say anything right away. They passed a nurse wheeling a patient toward imaging, a tech calling out vitals, the steady buzz of hospital life around them.

Jack nudged him with his elbow, grinning. “Showing up to a fifth-grade classroom in the middle of your shift—in scrubs, no less—to impress a woman who’s already taken? Damn, I didn’t know you were that kind of guy, Robby”

Michael rolled his eyes, recognizing the teasing tone. Jack was clearly trying to push his buttons and enjoying every second of it.

Michael gives him an exasperated look “I’m not trying to impress anyone!”

Jack chuckled. “Sure. Just keep telling yourself that. I know you man. You're doing that thing where you convince yourself you’re being “noble” when really you just want to spend more time with her.”

He did like spending time with you—God, how he loved it.

Being with you, he felt like himself. He didn’t have to be anyone else.

His feelings had bled into the friendship, slowly, unknowingly, until this moment—when he realized just how deep they really were.

Michael didn’t answer right away. He shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed ahead. “She’s got a boyfriend,” he muttered. “Not my business—”

“—But if it was your business…”

“Jack,” Michael said, his tone warning.

“All right, all right.” Jack held up his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “I’ll drop it. Just—don’t get your heart tangled up in something you can’t have.”

They continued walking, the hum of the ER fading behind them as they neared the staff room.

Jack dropped his bag onto the bench and glanced over at Michael, who was busy opening his locker to grab his backpack.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” Michael said, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

“Well,” Jack replied with a smirk, “all I gotta say is good luck with career day, doc. Oh, and try not to fall in love in front of a bunch of fifth-graders.”

Michael shot him a look.

“Okay, that was the last one, promise,” Jack added, flashing a playful grin.

Michael shook his head, mock scowl in place as he shut his locker. But the laugh that followed gave him away. Jack always knew how to get under his skin—even when he didn’t really mind.

“I’ll see you later,” Michael said, heading for the door.

—

Michael appeared at your classroom door just after lunch. He scanned the room with curious eyes before locking onto yours. You were seated at your desk, pretending to focus on grading, but your shoulders relaxed the moment you saw him.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and warm, like he’d just stepped into familiar territory.

He was in his scrubs. A backpack was slung over one shoulder, and a large black duffle hung from the other hand. His hair was still damp from the rain, strands falling slightly out of place. Despite it all, his smile was easy and genuine—the kind that disarmed you every time.

“Hi,” you said as you stood, trying to ramp down the sudden wave of relief that swept over you.

“Give me a few minutes to get them ready,” you said quietly, stepping around your desk. “You can hang out over there—or whatever's comfortable.”

Michael nodded and moved further inside, setting his bag down near your desk. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you—curious, observant—as you took charge of the room.

You clapped twice, your attention-getter snapping the students to attention. “Alright, friends—workbooks away and eyes on me. Show me you’re ready.”

There was a shuffle of papers and pencil boxes before stillness settled over the room. You smiled as you looked over your class, then turned toward Michael.

“Fifth graders,” you began, “I mentioned earlier that our original guest speaker for career day unfortunately couldn’t make it today. But we are very lucky, Dr. Robinavitch has stepped in! He’s an emergency room doctor”

Michael gave a small wave, his calm energy immediately balancing the room. “Hi everyone. I’m Dr. Robinavitch, but I also go by Dr. Robby for short. So, who here knows what an ER doctor does?”

A few hands shot up. One student shouted, “You fix broken arms!”

Michael nodded. “Yep. Broken arms, heads, stomachs, you name it. I’m kind of like a detective for people’s bodies—I have to figure out what’s wrong, fast, and sometimes fix it even faster.”

You move toward the back of your classroom, taking a seat off to the side by the last row of students, giving Michael the space, the floor, and the kids’ full attention. Their eyes are wide, some leaning forward on their desks, completely hooked.

Another student asked, “Do you see blood? Like, a lot of blood?”

He chuckled. “More than I’d like before breakfast.”

The class erupted into laughter, and you saw your students leaning forward, totally hooked. Michael had that quiet, steady charm that translated surprisingly well in front of fifth graders.

He pulled a stethoscope from his bag and held it up. “Okay, who wants to hear their own heartbeat?”

Nearly every hand shot up.

As he walked between desks, letting kids take turns listening to heartbeats, he told quick stories—about a kid who came in after eating five magnets, about a teenager who got his finger stuck in a soda can tab, about the night someone walked in with a LEGO in their nose.

Your class hung on every word. 

And so did you. 

You told yourself it was harmless—just admiration.

He was incredible with the kids. Patient. Warm. Confident without ever showing off. He knelt beside their desks like what they had to say truly mattered. And they loved him for it.

You watched him move through the room with such ease—laughing, listening, crouching like he had all the time in the world. The kids adored him. And honestly… so did you.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. Just a flutter. A pull. A feeling you tried not to name.

He was older. Way older. Old enough to be your father, technically—though he never made you feel small. He treated you as an equal. He was attentive, like what you had to say truly mattered. With him, you felt heard. Seen. 

And that was dangerous.

You admired how he carried himself—his quiet confidence, his easy intelligence, his kindness that felt so steady and real. It was natural to admire someone like that… wasn’t it?

But still, you felt it, that creeping awareness that maybe it wasn’t just admiration.

You had a boyfriend.

You weren’t supposed to notice the way Michael’s sleeves were always rolled just above his elbows, or how his voice softened when he spoke to the shy kid in the back row. You weren’t supposed to feel that flutter in your chest every time he smiled.

Aiden wasn’t like that.

He wasn’t an ER doctor who knelt beside desks and told stories that made your class laugh. He didn’t have that kind of calm, steady presence. That patience. That warmth.

You closed your eyes for a beat, trying to push the comparison away before it could settle in too deep. But it was already there, growing.

Because the truth was, your boyfriend didn’t make people light up the way Micahel did. Especially not you.

Michael was just volunteering his time. Helping out. Doing you a favor. And yet somehow, he was more present, more reliable, more engaged than the person you were actually dating.

One of your students leaned over and whispered, “Miss, is Dr. Robby, your boyfriend?” They giggled. 

Your heart did a small, traitorous flip.

You cleared your throat and forced a smile. “No, he’s just a friend.”

But in that moment, you realized—maybe you were starting to wish he wasn’t.

Micahel continued to tell stories, answer questions, he eventually brought out his duffle bag onto the carpet and pulled out a CPR training dummy. He demonstrated to the kids how to do CPR, then split the kids into groups and had them practice. 

As the visit draws and the last group of students had a turn at doing CPR on the dummy, you headed towards the front of your classroom, clapped your hands once to get their attention. 

“Alright, everyone, what do we say to Dr. Robby?”

A chorus of voices rang out, bright and genuine: “Thank you!”

Michael smiled, a hand over his heart. “You’re very welcome.”

“Alright everyone we’re gonna start getting ready for 2nd recess. Go line up by the back door!” 

As the students made their way to form a line, you turned toward Michael. He was slinging on his backpack and grabbing his duffle bag, ready to head out.

“Thank you for coming in, Michael. Seriously. The kids loved you.” you said with a smile. 

He gave a modest shrug. “No problem. I actually had a lot of fun. Your kids are great. Really bright…Not the little gremlins you always make them out to be.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Don’t let one good day fool you. They were on their best behavior for you.”

“I gotta head to get back to the ER to finish my shift, but I’ll see you at home.”

At home.

The words lingered. A small, traitorous thought crept in.

You knew he didn’t mean it like that. He lived across the hall, nothing more.

You let yourself imagine it. What would it be like if he did come home to you? After a long day at school for you, a long shift at the ER for him. Kicking off your shoes, swapping stories over takeout, falling asleep on the couch together, exhausted but content.

You’d had a little glimpse, a taste of what it could be like that night the two of you had carried your heavy box up six flights. Somehow that led to him staying to help build your shelf. He’d sat on your apartment floor, building and talking to you while you cooked.

You could never forget how natural, comforting, easy—safe—that moment had felt.

It was stupid. Just a fantasy. Just a somewhat innocent thought, but the idea of him and you? That  thought made your heart pound. 

“R-right, I’ll see you at home” 

“Bye” he smiled, before heading out the door

You gave him a small wave “Bye” 

—

That night you knocked on Michael’s door.

He opened it, no longer in his scrubs but dressed in a soft, casual t-shirt and joggers. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d finally had a chance to relax.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the frame. “There isn’t a baking disaster, is there?”

“What? No,” you said, frowning slightly, caught off guard. “Why would there be a baking disaster?”

“I don’t know…” he teased, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Last time you came knocking on my door at night, you’d smoked out your apartment baking cookies.”

He chuckled.

“No Garfield PJs this time… No emergency… nothing’s jammed, all is good!” you added with an embarrassed laugh.

“I just… wanted to give you these. There from my class,” you added, holding out a bundle of colorful cards and drawings the students had made.

Michael straightened, surprised, then took the stack from your hands. It was full of crayon hearts, stick-figure doctors, and shaky handwriting that said things like Thank you, Dr. Robby! and You’re cool!

His smile softened as he shifted through them, taking a quick look. “Wow…This is really sweet. Tell them I said thank you”

“I will,” you said, your eyes lingering on him. “But seriously, thank you, Michael. You didn’t just make their day… you made mine, too.”

You gave a small smile, letting it hang for a beat before adding, softer now, “You’re a good man. Thoughtful. Steady. The kind of guy people can count on. You didn’t have to show up like that, but you did."

Before you could second-guess it, you rose up on your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his bearded cheek.

It was gentle. Brief. But the air shifted between you the moment your lips touched his skin.

Michael stood still, breath caught somewhere between his lungs and throat.

That kiss, barely there, soft as a sigh, lingered longer than it should’ve. Not on his cheek, but in his chest.

Your hands drifted down his chest, and he felt every inch like it had been branded.

He should’ve stepped back. Said something.

But all he could do was look at you.

You weren’t smiling, not really—but your eyes held something else. Something braver. Warmer. Something that pulled at the part of him he tried so hard to keep buried.

Before you or Michael could say anything another voice called out through the hall. 

“Babe?” 

It was Aiden. He didn’t tell you he was coming over. You move away quickly from Michael.. 

“Aiden? What are you doing here?”

He walked toward you, a bouquet in hand.

“I got you your favorite flowers,” he said, smiling. “Thanks for understanding that I couldn’t make it today.”

You stared at the roses in his hand.They weren’t your favorite. Not even close. But maybe it was the thought that counted.

You stood there for a second too long, your eyes flicking to the flowers, then to Michael—still standing just behind you, quiet, unreadable.

But your mind wasn’t on the bouquet.

It was on the kiss you gave Michael.

You hadn’t planned it. It had just… happened. Soft. Simple. Barely more than a brush of lips against his cheek. But it landed heavier than it should have, echoing louder now that Aiden was here, smiling.

You told yourself it was nothing.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

You took the flowers and managed a small smile. “Thank you… they’re beautiful.”

Michael stood frozen, watching the scene unfold in front of his door.

He couldn’t believe the audacity. Aiden actually thought that no apology—and a last-minute bouquet of roses, no less—would make everything okay? Roses weren’t even your favorite flowers. Tulips were.

But what stunned him more… you took them. You actually took them.

He wasn’t just shocked by Aiden. He was shocked by you.

After everything—after how much this day had meant to your students, to you—you still accepted the flowers?

Aiden hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t even acknowledged how important today was. And yet, somehow, that didn’t seem to matter.

You’d been counting on him. And he let you down without a second thought.

Michael’s jaw tensed, but the feeling in his chest wasn’t just anger. It was confusing. Frustration. And something else—something quieter, deeper.

Just seconds ago, you’d kissed his cheek. Soft. Unassuming. 

He had no right to read into it. He knew that.

But still—it meant something, didn’t it?

Now, standing there, watching you smile faintly as Aiden handed you flowers like it was enough, Michael found himself asking the one question he couldn’t shake:

Why him?

What did you see in Aiden, really?

Because from where Michael stood, he didn’t look like a partner. He looked like an obligation. A habit. A mistake you hadn’t realized you were still making.

And that bothered Michael more than he wanted to admit.

Aiden pulls you into a hug, and kisses you on the forehead. 

“Who’s this?” Aiden asked, nodding toward Michael.

“Oh—this is Michael, my neighbor. Michael, this is my boyfriend, Aiden.”

Aiden stepped forward, offering a hand. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Michael didn’t move. “Hey,” he said flatly, eyes cool, hands gripping the notes and drawings your students had made him.

The shift was immediate. Just moments ago, Michael had been teasing you, relaxed and easy. Now, he stood like a brick wall—closed off, unreadable.

And you noticed, you felt it.

Aiden awkwardly retracted his hand.

“I’ve got a double shift, so I should head to bed,” Michael said abruptly to you. 

“Oh…okay, well–”

“Goodnight,” he cut in, already turning away. A moment later, the door shut firmly behind him. 

The thud of the door causes you to jump slightly. 

Aiden scoffed. “Jeez. That guy’s rude. What's his problem?” He turned toward your door. “Hey, have you made dinner yet? I’m starving.”

He walked inside without waiting for an answer.

You stayed where you were, fingers still holding the flowers, rooted outside Michael’s door. You didn’t move. Didn’t want to.

Your eyes stayed on the door he’d shut, like he was in a hurry to get away.

You told yourself not to take it personally. He was tired. It didn’t matter.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had just slipped away.

Tags: @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @beebeechaos @antisocialfiore @delicatetrashtree @xxxkat3xxx @homebytheharbor @woodxtock @letstryagaintomorrow @livingavilaloca @elkitot @annabellee88 @hagarsays @emma8895eb @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing @jazzimac1967 @lafemme-nk @kmc1989 @whos6claire @harrysgothicbitch @trustme3-13 @qardasngan @silas-aeiou @k3ndallroy @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @ay0nha @404creep @dantemorenatalie @obfuscateyummy @steviebbboi @alliegc28 @catmomstyles3 @ardentistella @madprincessinabox @circumspectre @the-one-with-the-grey-color @thatchickwiththecamera @violetswritingg @valutfromlune

Across The Hall | (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

[eraserbread]

growing old with kento pls🥺🥺

check out more of my wife guy!nanami ✧ ୨୧ - part 2

→ f!reader, fluff, sfw

for your twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, kento got you a cat, a kitten, to be exact -- golden, like him, hazel eyes like him. he's your baby, taking over that space in your home that your daughter's move back to tokyo brought out.

just like he always wanted, kento retired early in malaysia, and tokyo's where your daughter chose to stay. school in the city was far more riveting than stewing away in a beachside cottage. and alone for the first time again in nineteen years, you had love to celebrate.

so, he hands you that little purring kitten as soon as you stumble out of bed, smiling at the gentle coos you're giving. looking at you in the rising sun reminds him of how you'd dote over your young daughter twenty years ago. he's always loved you, but seeing your motherhood bloom and grow out of you made him obsessed.

"awh, kento." you're pouting, holding the kitten to your heart. you're in a shorter nightgown, cut above the knees he leans down and closes his hands over. for a fifty-year-old man, that mobility has never gotten lost. in fact, you think he looks the best he's ever have -- greyed roots, shaved stubble, fine lines. so familiar.

"happy twenty-fifth." he replies, kissing over your knee. "been with you longer than I've been alone, now. our marriage's brain is finally fully developed."

"you're such a dad." you scoff, lovingly. "it's a boy? I'm gonna name him kento."

"don't. that's not a very creative name." he stands with a grunt, leaning towards to kiss your lips. little kitty purring between your chests, he lingers.

the only thing you got him for twenty-five years together was his steaming bowl of char kway teow he's hunching over as you head through a night market. you were supposed to be sharing, but you'll let him have it. you can taste the umami on his lips when he kisses you, and that's enough.

the nights gone on in street food carbs, and drowned-out music. scooters whiz past you in the dusty streets, and kento keeps his arm strong around your shoulders, staking that lifelong claim in physicality.

always, you end up by the beach, lying out on plush lounge chairs. you're resting on his chest, heartbeat backing the rush of the waves and the pulse of the fire-dancers in front of you, lighting up the sand. you haven't touched alcohol all night, neither has he, but his sound has you nodding off. you trail your settled-in hands across his homey chest, pressing the tips of your nails into his clothed flesh.

you can feel him shiver, then whisper, "tickles."

then, for that thirty-eighth anniversary, your husband, grey and in his sixties, wakes you up with kisses to the neck. windows open, an early-morning sea breeze rushing through the bedroom, you stir to life and savor the touch.

"i have loved you for forty years. can you believe it?" he mutters, keeping his lips pressed to your skin. "and I still want you like it's the first."

you're smiling into the sheets, still so susceptible to his charms in your older years. he knows you inside and out, upside and down. at this point in life, he is you.

at the foot of the bed, poor old little yuji, your thirteen-year-old ginger cat purrs in sleep. kento's rustling makes him flick an ear, but the old boy is far too comfortable to move.

for year thirty-eight, you made him his favorite breakfast and served it to him as he sits on the balcony with a book in his lap. kento's come to wear glasses, thin-framed ones that hang on the edge of his nose as he grumbles at words.

it's all he lives for now, western poetry, wife handling, and cleaning up after a rowdy cat. every night like clockwork, he calls his daughter in tokyo -- sometimes she doesn't answer, but most of the time she does. for hours, or just as long as she allows, she goes on and on about her life, the woman she's seeing, the home she's buying, and the job she's loving.

kento listens with every ounce of his soul just like he listens to his words, and you, and the sound of the warm langkawi breeze as it hits his face.

out here in the seclusion, there aren't any curses -- no angst. all that matters is the life he's hand-picked, thoughtful to the core.

and that night, his final gift is a sweater you sewed for him, and you. sandy hands, warm cheeks -- you present your naked body to him in the night, letting the full moon guide him right to where he knows to touch.

age is just experience. it's been thirty-eight years of memorizing each other's bodies - intimacy is like oxygen. he reaches for the canyon between your thighs on your secluded, beachside balcony, swallowing the sound of his name like he has for a lifetime.

like clockwork, every single time this starts, he whispers between your lips, "I love you."

and you whisper back, "i love you, too."

[thedollydiaries]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[unequivocallyreid]

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?

warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, drinking/bar scene, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink

wc: 8.8k 🤗

i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!

Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.

Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.

It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.

All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.

He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.

The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.

Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.

Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.

Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.

Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.

Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.

“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”

“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”

Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”

She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”

For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“

You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”

Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.

“Make sure he eats!”

The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.

You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.

“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”

There’s no response.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”

Again, nothing.

You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.

You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”

You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.

“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”

You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.

There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.

“Spencer,” you call out to him.

You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.

Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.

His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.

You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”

You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.

You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.

He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.

“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”

His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.

You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.

Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”

He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.

His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.

You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.

“It’s not fine dining.”

He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.

“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”

You smile at his recollection.

“It helped you then.”

The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.

“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”

He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.

He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.

You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.

“Please stay.”

That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.

“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”

He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.

He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.

Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”

Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.

~

When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.

Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.

That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.

The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.

The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.

“Y/n…”

You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.

“Hi, Derek.”

“What are you doing, mamas?”

You sigh, “What do you mean?”

You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.

“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”

Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”

“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”

He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.

“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”

“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”

“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”

There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”

You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.

You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.

The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.

“Spencer?”

He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”

“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.

“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.

“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

A ringing echos in your ears.

“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”

Wrong thing to say.

“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”

He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.

“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”

He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry.

“Spencer-“

“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”

The ringing in your ears is louder.

“Spencer, please. Just-“

“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”

This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.

His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.

~

You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.

Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.

You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.

You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.

You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.

Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.

“I’m back if that’s okay.”

He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.

“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”

You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”

It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.

“Alright, conference room in five.”

Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.

~

The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.

In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.

Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.

“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”

You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”

“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”

“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”

Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.

“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”

Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.

~

The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.

You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.

The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.

“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.

“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.

There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”

It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.

Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.

Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.

“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”

That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.

Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.

The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.

You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.

“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”

~

The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.

The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.

Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.

He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.

His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.

Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”

He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”

He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”

He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.

“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”

He’s silent for a long minute.

“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”

Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.

“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”

There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.

“I uh, I don’t really know.”

“That's not fair, Spence.”

You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.

You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.

“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You smile sadly as you get up to leave.

“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”

You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.

~

Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.

Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.

Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.

JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.

Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.

“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”

You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”

“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”

“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”

You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.

“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”

Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”

You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”

The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.

“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”

JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”

“What?”

After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”

Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”

You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.

“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”

“Stop being cryptic.”

Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

“No. That's not true.”

You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.

“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”

It's JJ’s turn to talk now.

“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”

Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”

“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”

“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”

You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”

Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

“Y/n?”

JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.

“Just go talk to him.”

You nod mutely, and you get up.

~

Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.

This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.

“Y/n?”

His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”

He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”

You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.

“Do you love me?”

That is not what you wanted to say.

His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”

“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”

He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.

“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”

Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.

“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”

He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”

He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”

You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.

His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.

His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”

You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.

“Oh, Y/n.”

“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.

“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”

“And Maeve?”

“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”

“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”

This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.

This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.

Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”

His reply is instant, “You.”

From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.

You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.

His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.

After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.

He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.

“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.

“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”

“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”

It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.

“I love you, too. God, so much.”

With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”

You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”

He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.

He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.

“Spencer, please.”

You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.

“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.

“Harder. Please, harder.”

He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.

After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.

He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.

He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.

Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”

It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.

That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.

You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.

“Will you let me clean you up?”

You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.

Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.

~

The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.

How did it go????

You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.

-

all done! yay!!!

i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.

this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #38

Oct 11-18 2024

President Biden announced that this Administration had forgiven the student loan debt of 1 million public sector workers. The cancellation of the student loan debts of 60,000 teachers, firefighters, EMTs, nurses and other public sector workers brings the total number of people who's debts have been erased by the Biden-Harris Administration using the Public Service Loan Forgiveness to 1 million. the PSLF was passed in 2007 but before President Biden took office only 7,000 people had ever had their debts forgiven through it. The Biden-Harris team have through different programs managed to bring debt relief to 5 million Americans and counting despite on going legal fights against Republican state Attorneys General.

The Federal Trade Commission finalizes its "one-click to cancel" rule. The new rule requires businesses to make it as easy to cancel a subscription as it was to sign up for it. It also requires more up front information to be shared before offering billing information.

The Department of Transportation announced that since the start of the Biden-Harris Administration there are 1.7 million more construction and manufacturing jobs and 700,000 more jobs in the transportation sector. There are now 400,000 more union workers than in 2021. 60,000 Infrastructure projects across the nation have been funded by the Biden-Harris Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Under this Administration 16 million jobs have been added, including 1.7 construction and manufacturing jobs, construction employment is the highest ever recorded since records started in 1939. 172,000 manufacturing jobs were lost during the Trump administration.

The Department of Energy announced $2 billion to protect the U.S. power grid against growing threats of extreme weather. This money will go to 38 projects across 42 states and Washington DC. It'll upgrade nearly 1,000 miles worth of transmission lines. The upgrades will allow 7.5 gigawatts of new grid capacity while also generating new union jobs across the country.

The EPA announced $125 million to help upgrade older diesel engines to low or zero-emission solutions. The EPA has selected 70 projects to use the funds on. They range from replacing school buses, to port equipment, to construction equipment. More than half of the selected projects will be replacing equipment with zero-emissions, such as all electric school buses.

The Department of The Interior and State of California broke ground on the Salton Sea Species Conservation Habitat Project. The Salton Sea is California's largest lake at over 300 miles of Surface area. An earlier project worked to conserve and restore shallow water habitats in over 4,000 acres on the southern end of the lake, this week over 700 acres were added bring the total to 5,000 acres of protected land. The Biden-Harris Administration is investing $250 million in the project along side California's $500 million. Part of the Administration's effort to restore wild life habitat and protect water resources.

The Department of Energy announced $900 Million in investment in next generation nuclear power. The money will help the development of Generation III+ Light-Water Small Modular Reactors, smaller lighter reactors which in theory should be easier to deploy. DoE estimates the U.S. will need approximately 700-900 GW of additional clean, firm power generation capacity to reach net-zero emissions by 2050. Currently half of America's clean energy comes from nuclear power, so lengthening the life space of current nuclear reactors and exploring the next generation is key to fighting climate change.

The federal government took two big steps to increase the rights of Alaska natives. The Departments of The Interior and Agricultural finalized an agreement to strengthen Alaska Tribal representation on the Federal Subsistence Board. The FSB oversees fish and wildlife resources for subsistence purposes on federal lands and waters in Alaska. The changes add 3 new members to the board appointed by the Alaska Native Tribes, as well as requiring the board's chair to have experience with Alaska rural subsistence. The Department of The Interior also signed 3 landmark co-stewardship agreements with Alaska Native Tribes.

The Department of Energy announced $860 million to help support solar energy in Puerto Rico. The project will remove 2.7 million tons of CO2 per year, or about the same as taking 533,000 cars off the road. It serves as an important step on the path to getting Puerto Rico to 100% renewable by 2050.

The Department of the Interior announced a major step forward in geothermal energy on public lands. The DoI announced it had approved the Fervo Cape Geothermal Power Project in Beaver County, Utah. When finished it'll generate 2 gigawatts of power, enough for 2 million homes. The BLM has now green lit 32 gigawatts of clean energy projects on public lands. A major step toward the Biden-Harris Administration's goal of a carbon pollution-free power sector by 2035.

Bonus: President Biden meets with a Kindergarten Teacher who's student loans were forgiven this week