#Matthew gray gubler fluff

[avis-writeshq]

hi ! love ur fics <3

can i request reader as being a massive flirt publicly towards spencer but when its Intimate and Private, reader is suddenly Stunned and Speechless and Blushing and spencer kinda gets the confidence to Do Stuff

im sorry if that was the stupidest described ask ever achh but lov u !

pairing: s9!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, bombshell-ish(?) reader, fluff warnings: 16+ for kind of suggestive? he’s so in love UGH a/n: thank you for requesting !! wc: 1.22k

Spencer thinks that you are the most beautiful person in the world. He thinks that you’re glowing every time you walk into the room– no matter how upset or disgruntled you may be– and as cliche as it may seem, he’s certain that swarms butterflies fill his stomach and cloud his mind. In fact, he thinks that you have always had that effect on him, ever since he’s met you. You’re touchy, and despite Spencer’s general aversion to physical touch, he finds that he doesn’t mind your germs much. 

Very often he finds himself at your mercy, with the way your fingers brush against his face as if it’s nothing, as if that movement alone was something that you do with everyone (you’ve only ever done it with him). There are other instances where you’ve been very blatant in your attraction towards him, so much so that he ends up with his cheeks hot more often than not. A part of him is grateful that though you work in the FBI, it isn’t his division. He doubts he’d be able to see the end of it.

“Spencer,” you gush, curling your fingers into the ends of his hair. Or rather, lack of hair. “You got a haircut. You’re supposed to consult me first, you know.”

He laughs, looking up at you as you stand over him while he sits at his desk. “Is that what a good boyfriend is supposed to do?”

“Yes.” You speak with mock indignation, properly running your fingers through his hair from his fringe to the back of his head. “It’s so short.”

“Do you hate it?” There’s a momentary pang of unease that strikes at his heart. “Maybe I should have consulted you.”

“No, baby, it looks really good.” You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his hairline. “You’re warm. Do you have a fever?”

Of course I’m warm, Spencer wants to say while you continue to dote on him, your hands travelling to his collar next and brushing against his throat. You’re touching me in the middle of the bullpen. 

He opts to not say anything when he sees your knowing smile. You’re doing this on purpose. He clicks his tongue, squeezing at your waist lightly as you lean over him to kiss his forehead. He’ll let you win this battle; he’s going to get you back.

***

He doesn’t really know how to get you back. There are a few harmless things he’d thought of doing: sneaking into your department and hiding your mug on the top shelf (he fears that you’d ask someone, a taller more handsome someone, to rescue it for you), not wearing the tie you picked out for him that morning (he can already envision your disappointed frown and his chest aches at the imaginary you getting upset because of him), and putting toothpaste in your Oreos (he doesn’t want to die). 

All of these ideas go down the drain and he ends up not getting back at you for days. It doesn’t help that he’s been gone for a case while you’ve been stuck at home. It isn’t all bad, and a part of him wishes that he can hold himself to the same level of confidence as Derek when Penelope calls him with flirtatious motives. You do virtually the same thing. 

Your words are honey as you shower him with compliments, ending him with a simple “Hey, gorgeous.” 

It is enough to make his heart leap to his throat and his cheeks to warm to a pretty pink. There’s not much overlap between the Human Resources Branch and the BAU, especially considering that you assist more on the training and hiring side of things, so there aren’t many opportunities for you to fluster him when he’s out of the office. He finds that you always make an excuse.

“Hi,” he responds softly, avoiding the teasing gazes of Emily and Derek. “Is… are you okay?”

“Do I need to not be okay to talk to my lovely boyfriend?” 

You’re teasing him, poking fun at the way he so easily surrenders to you. He resists the urge to run out the room. 

“Stop,” he warns half-heartedly. He says your name quietly, tapping his fingers at the edge of the table. “Is there something you needed?”

He can practically hear you smile as you respond, the sound of your mouse clicking in the background. “Oh, yeah. My computer says that my storage is full. What do I do?”

“Your storage is full,” he repeats, smiling. “That’s why you called me?”

“It’s lunchtime in Santa Monica, right?”

He relents, cheeks hurting from how hot and stretched out they are. “Yes.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

He puffs out a breath of air, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re lovely.” He can imagine you batting your eyes, your smile saccharine. “Don’t you wish that you were here, gorgeous?”

He’s definitely going to get you back.

*** 

Spencer goes to your apartment once the case ends, his eyes dreary with sleep and the horrors that he saw only a few hours prior. Your apartment key hangs next to his on his keychain– a limited edition Tardis charm that you got him for his birthday. He huffs out a breath, unlocking your door and stepping inside. He’s met with you dancing around in your kitchen, headphones on whilst holding a wooden spoon. A part of him is concerned with how easily he could slip into your home without being notice, but the other part can’t help but smile at how carefree you look, and he leans against the wall to stare. 

He doesn’t get the opportunity to stare for long. It’s comical, the way you jump upon seeing him, eyes wide as you rip your headphones off. 

“You’re back! You scared me.” A smile stretches across your lips while you press your palm to your chest whilst taking steps towards him. “Don’t do that ever again.”

Spencer laughs, toeing his shoes off and resting his hands on your waist. His head dips down to meet your gaze, peering up at you with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

Your cheeks glow warm and you break eye contact. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” He hooks his pointer finger under your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I missed you.”

He notes the way you don’t respond, in some sort of daze while your lips part in both surprise and flusteredness. He understands your sentiments– it isn’t often that he initiates affection. 

“Did you miss me, too?” Spencer asks softly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks. 

“Of course I did,” you croak out, heat building in your head. 

Spencer chuckles, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s doing this on purpose, flustering you to the point of no return. He kisses you again, one hand holding the base of your head while the other squeezes at the flesh of your waist. It’s dizzying, the taste of coffee on his tongue and the feel of his fingers in your hair. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs once he’s pulled away. His thumb rubs a line from the back of your ear to where your jawline starts, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Where did that confidence go, hm?”

reblogs are always appreciated!

[eideticmemory]

A LONG DAY | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

At the end of a long day, your husband really is the best person to come home to.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning/Includes: Husband!Matthew !!! Dad!Matthew !!! Delusional fluff!! Even more delusional smut!!

The worst part of getting home so late isn’t the body aches, it isn’t the exhaustion, it’s not even the dozens of bright headlights that blind you on the way home. It’s the darkness. Everything is so dark. You pull into the driveway and the porch light is out, the garage is pitch black. Shutting your car off, you take a moment to lean your head back and sigh, gaining the strength to grab all of your crap, open the door and stumble through the garage. You trip over your daughter’s bike, but you catch yourself and you think you’re going to burst into tears. Instead, you step into the basement where it is almost as dark, save for the soft light of TV where your husband sits on the couch, doing absolutely nothing but wait for you.

Matthew turns around and his face just instantly lights up, “Hey, mama,” he rises to his feet. He takes your bag, your lunchbox and sets them down so he can give you a big, tight, hug. Arms wrapped securely around your waist, face buried in your neck, he whispers, “I missed you.”

And your entire body melts into his, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as you sigh out, “I missed you.” Then he hugs you tighter, lifts you off your feet.

When he puts you down, you still don’t let go, and he chuckles under his breath, but he holds you until you’re ready to let go.

“How are the babies?” you ask him.

“Oh, they’re good,” he nods, and he takes your hand, guides you over to the monitors perched on the coffee table. “They’re asleep. Went down pretty easy.”

“Did they ask about me?” You ask, leaning down to caressing Leo’s face on the screen.

“C’mon, you know they did,” Matthew smiles. “I told them that you were at work but you love them and you’d see them first thing in the morning.”

Your fingertips trace Amelia’s face, and then slowly over Rhiannon’s and it makes you so very sad. Heavy weight on your shoulders, deep in your chest, sad. When you get home late and it’s pitch dark, bedtime has come and gone. The day has come and gone. And the guilt absolutely eats you alive.

Matthew rubs your back, running the heel of his hand up your spine, “Have you eaten?”

You sigh, “Not since lunch,” shaking your head, standing up straight.

“Oh god, babe, let me make you something.”

You release a sharp breath from your nose and instantly rest your forehead on his shoulder.

You are so tired.

“Hm?” he hums, holding you tight.

You give nothing more than a nod, but that’ll do.

“Yeah?” he whispers. “Okay, let’s go upstairs.”

He follows behind you with your stuff up and you close the door behind him, officially lock the house up for the night. Walking towards the stairs, you take a look around and comment, “It’s clean as hell in here.”

He laughs, “Well, thank you for noticing. Shout out to your kids for taking some good naps today so I could actually get some of their shit picked up.”

You give him a dry laugh. It would’ve been louder but you just simply lack the energy.

“Oh, baby, you’re tired,” he kisses your cheek. “Go ahead,” he nods towards the stairs. “I’ve got your food. Go lay down, mama.”

And you really don’t need to be told twice. So you give him a gentle kiss, a quiet, “Thank you,” and you drag yourself up the stairs. You hop in the shower with the pure intention of making it quick, but you take a seat on the floor, letting the water run over your body for much longer than you mean to. Still a bit damp, you throw on Matthew’s shirt and crawl into your bed on all fours, collapsing on the mattress when you reach your designated side. Snuggling into your pillow, you moan under your breath, the relief and comfort washing over you all at once.

Matthew steps into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. And with him is a small plate topped with a sub sandwich and a side of chips. “Is this okay, baby?”

You roll over to take a look, at the sandwich done up with your favorite meats and cheese, the chips you go to when you need a snack. And it is so obvious that someone who knows you and loves you put it together. “Yes, my love,” you smile. “Yes, it’s perfect. Thank you.” You take the plate from him and set it on your nightstand.

“You sure?” he asks as he crawls in beside you, plops down on the bed. “I packed you the same thing for lunch tomorrow, but if you’d prefer something else, I can do that for you.”

You look up at him, run your finger over his collarbone, hook it onto the collar of his shirt. You go to speak, but you lose your train of thought as you touch his hair and his chin, “…take your pants off.”

And you swear, he nearlys goes - what? - but he catches himself. He shuts himself up very quickly and nods, no questions asked. He slides his pants over his hips and down his legs, his briefs flying off the edge right along with them.

You push your panties down, kick them off like it’s what they were meant for all along. As you climb on top of Matthew, his breath catches in his chest and he moans at the soft touch of your lips on his. His arms take you in out of instinct, his hands work their way up your waist and grope your boobs. You hum, holding his face in your hands as you grind your hips on him, feel his cock come alive between your legs.

The warmth of it all has him struggling to keep sane, with him constantly groaning against your lips, digging his nails into your thighs.

“Wait, wait,” he huffs, pushing your hair out of your face. “Don’t…don’t you wanna eat first?”

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head, arch your back and tangle your hands in his hair, “After.”

He nods and opens his mouth just a bit so your tongue can slide between his lips. Your mouths gets slimy and slippery but the two of you cannot stop. You only part so you can spit into your own palm, which you proceed to rub over your pussy. Matthew watches you in astonishment, his eyes glistening as you purr and touch yourself so close to his cock. When you notice, you give him a slutty smile, bite down on your lip and it almost kills him.

He pulls you in for another kiss. This one, longer. Dirtier, all consuming. You grab onto his rock hard cock, covering him in your saliva, feeling him twitch in your palm. His breath shudders and he buckles underneath you, looking up at you with hooded and heavy eyes. You press your nose into his, aligning his cock so that you sink onto it just right.

The small whine you let out is eclipsed by his deep, “Oh!” and he quiets down, muttering, “Fuck…”

You brace yourself on his shoulders, your foreheads pressed together as you move yourself up and down. Slow at first, but then Matthew rests his head on the headboard, his jaw dropped and his forehead beading with sweat and he mumbles, “Oh my god…”

“Yeah?” you moan, caressing his face, and your hips pick up in speed. In intensity, landing on him with a loud, wet thump each time.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby,” he whimpers. “Come here,” he pulls you in by the back of your neck, kissing you with his other hand planted firmly on your ass.

You run your hands down his biceps, squeezing them as you whine from the back of your throat. Your body loses energy but can’t stop bouncing on him, grinding your clit into his tummy. Your breath is shaky, but strong enough to grow in volume, your jaw dropping against Matthew’s mouth as you release your incessant moans. He puts his open mouth on your neck, his tongue on your skin and you gasp, dropping your hips on him, “Fuck!”

“Mm…” he hums, taking a quick bite of your neck, “Oh god, I love you. I fucking love you.”

And instead of saying it back, you just wrap your arms around his shoulders, squeeze him in a hug. He knows.

You grind your teeth together but it’s not enough to keep you quiet. You cry out directly in his ear and claw at the headboard, the motion in your hips becoming careless and sloppy. But, oh, so perfect. Your eyes roll back as you sit up straight, his eyes trained on you and only you.

“You gonna come?” he whispers.

You nod, “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m…f-fuck…” your eyes cross over one another and you focus all your energy on stimulating your clit, letting yourself get there.

“Fuck!” you shout. “Fu…Matthew…” you moan.

“What is it, baby?” he holds your waist. “Hm?”

You respond with a loud and sudden gasp, followed by a breathy groan that echoes off the walls. Matthew can practically feel the vibration and he can feel your thighs tight around his waist and your pussy tightening around his cock. You stutter and you mumble until it’s nothing more than his name coming out on constant and whiny loop.

“Matthew-“ you choke out. “F-fuck…” until you lose your breath. “Matthew. Oh god, Matthew. Matthew, Matthew…”

“I know, I know,” he whispers, tapping his finger to his lips, “Shhh, shhh, shhh…”

“Matth-mm…” he shuts you up with a kiss and your entire body tenses on contact. He mushes his face into yours but still, you will not stop. You will not shut up because it’s not possible. So he keeps his mouth on yours. He swallows every noise you make and muffles his own against your lips. His arms engulf your waist and you bury your face in his neck, helpless moans bursting from the back of your throat.

“Okay, okay…” he murmurs. “Shhh…just let it out for me, baby…c’mon…”

You gasp as you come down on his cock, your body weakening by the second, your arms draped over his shoulders. You lick his neck and he groans, “Shit.”

You grip onto him. Tighter, and even tighter, working your hips until you come with a long and loud groan, which would’ve been much louder if Matthew wasn’t holding the back of your head, pushing your face into his neck. You fall limp against him, grinding yourself on his lap to ride the wave.

“Oh, that’s my girl,” he purrs, peppering kisses on your shoulder.

You shudder and let out a small squeak, overstimulated as he starts to lift his hips, push his cock into you. “O-oh, fuck,” he stutters.

You hold his face, run your hands down his chest and watch his belly flex as he angles himself inside of you. You can hardly keep yourself up, keep your eyes open, but when he very suddenly chokes out a moan and lifts you off his cock, you gasp, “Oof!” and he shoots all over his stomach. He just didn’t want to make a mess on you. Or, in you. It’s been such a long day.

He trembles, his face twisted up as he finishes all over himself. And his muscles relax into this content smile, which widens once he gets a good look at you.

“Fuck…” he exhales, gives you a light slap on the cheek, “You’re loud, woman.”

You chuckle, covering your mouth, “And this is news to you?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, laughing, “Definitely not.”

You lean down and catch him in a kiss. This one, gentle. Slow. Sweet. He pecks at your lips and promptly pats your ass, “Let me go get cleaned up, mama.”

You nod and roll right off of him, landing face first into your pillow. You feel the bed shift as he stands, but cannot muster the energy to watch him walk away. He returns to find you in the same position and because you are too lazy to look up, you don’t see it coming when he slaps your ass.

“Ow!” you shout and now you look at him.

“You still have to eat,” he grins, placing himself back in bed.

You bury your face in the pillow, whining, “But I’m so tired.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he reaches over you and grabs the plate from your nightstand. “You still gotta eat. C’mon, c’mon.”

You groan and roll over, sitting up to lay in the crook of his arm. He sets the plate in your lap and picks up a chip, holding it to your lips. You sigh and take it in your mouth, chewing it with your eyes half closed.

“Sandwich, too,” he holds it up for you.

You open your mouth to take a small bite and he pulls it away, “No, you can open your mouth wider than that, we both know it.”

You gasp and swat his arm, making him throw his head back and cackle. And just as you go to take a Matthew-approved sized bite, there’s a tired cry from the baby monitor and you both pause. Go absolutely silent. Still. You don’t breathe. Not until Rhiannon rolls over in her crib, grabs her lovey and goes right back to sleep. Then, and only then, do the two of you relax again.

“Phew,” Matthew says. “Okay, sandwich now.”

You roll your eyes at him and finally, you take a bite.

You fall asleep on his chest, but you wake up alone. You roll over to check the time, finding empty beds on every monitor and you grumble to yourself.

Just outside the door, Matthew is walking down the hall with Rhiannon in his arms, Leo holding his hand and Amelia at his side. The plan was, as always, to get them downstairs for breakfast. The plan, as always, does not go the way it should.

“Daddy?�� Leo calls. “Where’s mommy?”

“That’s your favorite question, isn’t it?” Matthew laughs.

“Is she at our house?”

“Yeah, she’s sleeping, buddy. She had a long day at work yesterday.”

“But I want mommy.” Leo whines.

“Well, we don’t wanna wake her up. We gotta let her rest.”

“What if we just go look at mommy but we don’t wake her up?” Always, always Amelia with the bright and clever ideas.

Matthew purses his lips as they approach your bedroom door, “You guys have to be quiet, okay? Promise?”

The two of them nod, and they’ve got those satisfied grins on their face only reserved for when they get their way. Matthew quietly opens the door and they find you laid out on your stomach, your head facing the other direction.

“Mommy’s sleeping?” Leo asks.

“Yeah, buddy, I told you. She’s tired, but she’ll be up soon.”

“But-but-but-but…” he stammers. “Can we just give her a kiss?”

This question is what wakes you.

Matthew sighs and glances at your still frame, back down to Leo, “You can give her a kiss, but be gentle.”

He helps the two of them onto the bed and you feel the weight of them landing on the mattress, crawling over to you. You’re trying your best not to laugh, but you cannot keep yourself from smiling. Leo kneels at your side and just as he promised, very carefully and quietly kisses the top of your head. You poke your bottom lip out, melting from the act of love. Amelia places a soft kiss on your shoulder and you just. Can’t even.

“Who’s that kissing me?” you speak suddenly, reaching around to grab Leo’s leg, which makes him scream in excitement. “Who is that? Who is this?” you grab onto Amelia and she squeals.

You flop over and they burst into laughter, Leo instantly falling onto your chest. It knocks the air out of you but in the very best way possible. Amelia piles on top of him and you free yourself just enough to reveal your face to Rhiannon who kicks her feet once the realization hits. Matthew sets her on the bed, grinning like a mad man at the sight of you all. Rhiannon finds herself in the middle of a tight, tight, tight hug.

You kiss their heads, “Oh, hi, my babies,” you laugh. “Hello, hello, hello.”

“Um, mommy?” Amelia calls.

“Yes, my love?”

“Did you have to stay at work when it was nighttime?”

“Yeah, baby, I did. I know it’s hard when mommy works for so long, but I’m back now and I’m just so excited to see you!” you squeal, “Mwah!” and place another kiss on her forehead.

“Hey, do you think you guys can go help daddy with breakfast while mommy gets dressed?”

They nod and you whisper, “Thank youuu,” embracing them one last time.

Matthew smiles at you as they leave the room, and with a good orgasm, a good meal and a good night’s rest in your system, you hop right out of bed. You brush your teeth, change your clothes, fix your hair, until you have the perfect I’m-not-leaving-this-house-today look.

You step out of the bathroom and gasp as you see Matthew rushing towards you. Before you can react, he’s backing you against the wall and putting his mouth on yours, wide open, starving, with his hands gripping at your waist.

“Mm…” you hum when he suddenly pulls away. You giggle, shoving his chest, “Freak.”

He cackles and kisses you again. Again. Once more. Last one. He picks up your hand, places one single kiss on your knuckles, “C’mon, sexy lady, let’s go have some breakfast.”

[ghsface]

WILDEST DREAMS... - spencer reid

Sumary: It was a one night thing

Warnings: smut 18+, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (Don't do it), and a little bit angst

Author's note: I was inspired a little by Wildest Dreams by Taylor Mother Swift bc in my head the song is written for Matthew Gray Gubler (I know it's not written for him but let me live in my fantasy). I also imagined Spencer in season 7 while I was writing this so keep that in mind, or just imagine it however you want, and I'm sorry if there are mistakes/misspelled words, my native language is not English.🩶

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚𖹭

The rain fell in curtains over the city, blurring the outlines of the buildings and silencing the usual bustle of the streets.

The lights of the cars reflected on the wet asphalt, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed straight out of a dream.

You were in the usual cafeteria, trying to concentrate on your book, but your mind wandered to Spencer Reid.

From the first time you saw him, there was something about him that attracted you in an inexplicable way.

His eyes, full of knowledge and a subtle melancholy, his messy hair and that unique way of speaking.

You had shared several moments on the team, but none like the one that was about to happen.

The doorbell rang, and you looked up to see him enter, soaked and a little disheveled, but with that irresistible aura of mystery and intelligence.

Spencer saw you and a slight smile appeared on his face. He approached your table and sat in front of you.

“Sorry I was late,” he said, shaking the water out of his hair.

“Don’t worry.” You smiled at him, feeling a slight tickle in your stomach. There was something about the atmosphere that night, something electric that you couldn’t ignore.

They spent the next hour talking, sharing stories and laughter. Every time their hands accidentally brushed against each other, an electric current ran through your body.

The conversation flowed naturally, as always, but this time there was a palpable tension in the air.

As the coffee shop was about to close, Spencer suggested they walk a little to clear their minds.

You nodded and the two of you went out into the rain, not caring that you got wet. The conversation continued as you walked through the empty streets, but your thoughts were elsewhere, on what could happen if you let yourself get carried away by the impulse of the moment.

Finally, they arrived at Spencer’s house and he looked at you with those deep eyes and you knew he felt the same way too.

Without saying a word, you both walked in and headed to the elevator. The silence between you was intense, heavy with anticipation.

As you reached the apartment, Spencer opened the door and ushered you in first. The room was lit by a dim light, creating an intimate atmosphere.

He closed the door behind him and, without saying anything, approached you. You could feel his ragged breathing, his nervousness mixed with desire.

He took your face in his hands and kissed you with a softness that contrasted with the urgency of his movements.

His lips moved over yours, exploring, discovering, while his hands slid down your body, sending waves of pleasure through your skin.

The kiss became more intense, more desperate, as if they both knew that this moment was fleeting, a wild dream that would fade with the dawn.

You let yourself be carried away by the passion, by the feeling of his hands on your skin, by the taste of his lips. Spencer led you to the bed, his movements sure but full of a tenderness that disarmed you.

His hands slowly moved down your back, unbuttoning your blouse and sliding it off your shoulders.

His lips followed the same path, leaving a trail of burning kisses. You shuddered as you felt his hands unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts for his lips and tongue to eagerly explore.

His touch was a contrast of softness and firmness, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

You helped him remove his shirt and slide his pants off, eager to feel his skin against yours.

His hands ran over your curves, memorizing every inch, as his breathing grew heavier.

You bit your lip as you felt his erection press against you, increasing the anticipation.

He laid you back on the bed and positioned himself over you, his eyes locked on yours as his hand slid across your belly, slowly moving down until he reached your crotch. His fingers found your wetness, exploring you skillfully, drawing moans of pleasure from you.

You arched against him, wanting more, needing more. “Spencer, ple-please…” you whispered, your voice filled with longing.

With a look of absolute desire, he leaned down to kiss you deeply, while his fingers kept up their relentless rhythm. He brought you to the edge of climax, again and again, until you couldn’t take it anymore. Finally, he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself between your legs, his eyes searching for your approval.

You nodded, and in a slow but determined movement, he sank into you. You both let out a moan of pure pleasure in unison.

The feeling of being completely filled by him, combined with the intensity of his gaze, had you lost in a whirlwind of sensations.

Spencer began to move, slowly at first, savoring every moment.

But urgency soon took over both of you, and his thrusts became faster, deeper, taking you to the edge again and again.

Every bump of his hips against yours, every brush of his skin against yours, brought you closer to the edge.

“You’re amazing…” Spencer murmured, his voice cracking with effort.

Your nails dug into his back, marking his skin as the pleasure intensified. You felt your climax approaching, an overwhelming wave of ecstasy that you couldn’t stop.

With a gasp, you let yourself go, your body shaking beneath him as you reached the peak of pleasure.

Spencer followed soon after, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside you.

The world seemed to stop for a moment, leaving only the feeling of being together, of being one.

You stood there holding each other, breathing together, feeling the connection you had created. You knew this moment couldn’t last forever, that it was just a wild dream, but as long as you were in his arms, anything seemed possible.

Eventually, reality caught up with you, but the memory of that night was etched into your memory, like a wild dream you would always remember.

Spencer looked into your eyes and whispered, with a sad smile, “I’ll never forget this night.”

And you knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t either.

The next day, you found yourself in the office with Emily, JJ, and Penelope.

They were aware of your crush on Spencer and looked at you with curiosity and complicity in their eyes. “Well?” JJ asked, a playful smile on her face.

You blushed, remembering every detail of the night before. You took a sip of your coffee, trying to find the right words.

“It was… amazing.” You finally said, your eyes shining with the excitement of the memory.

Emily arched an eyebrow, interested. “How amazing?”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t keep anything from them. “We kissed in the hotel room and… everything was so intense. His hands, his lips, everything. It was like time stood still.”

Penelope giggled and tapped you on the shoulder. “We knew Spencer had something special, but wow!” JJ leaned into you, his expression more serious. “And what happened next?”

You bit your lip, remembering the feeling of his body against yours, the way his thrusts brought you to the edge of ecstasy again and again.

“It was passionate, intense. I felt like every move of hers was bringing me closer to climax. I’d never experienced anything like that.”

Emily smiled, understanding. I’m glad it finally happened.

You nodded, feeling a mix of joy and nostalgia. “Yes, but I also know it was a fleeting moment. I don’t know what will happen now.”

Penelope gave you a comforting hug. “The important thing is that you lived that dream. Now, no matter what happens, you’ll always have that memory.”

The four of you were silent for a moment, sharing the intimacy of the moment. You felt grateful to have friends like them, who supported and understood you.

Finally, Emily broke the silence. “Well, whatever it is, you know we’re here for you.” JJ nodded, smiling. “Yes, and remember, Spencer is a complicated guy, but he’s also a good man. If this has a future, I’m sure you’ll figure it out together.”

You felt comforted by his words, knowing that no matter what happened, you wouldn't be alone. And as you remembered the intensity of the night before, you couldn't help but feel a spark of hope for what could happen now between Spencer and you.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚𖹭

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly🫧

[blackdollette]

"my body is my temple, my heart is one too." | spencer reid

black bathing suit. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: if perfection was a human being...

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords @hiireadstuff

⊹₊⋆ pairing: female!reader x spencer

⊹₊⋆ word count: 995

⊹₊⋆ contents: body worship, praise kink, smut, fluff

spencer was perched on his bed, his adoring gaze glued to you as you stood before him. it was far past midnight, but sleep wasn’t on his agenda for tonight. pale moonlight seeped into the room through the thin curtains, glistening against the white, silky fabric of your little nightgown. you stood there shyly, hands behind your back with your legs crossed as he drooled over your perfect figure. 

his erect cock conspicuously pressed against his loose blue jeans, but he chose to only focus on you. his eyes travelled up your body slowly, stopping at your thighs, hips, waist and chest before finally landing on your eyes, which were boring into his desperate little soul. his pupils had swallowed his striking brown irises, altogether drinking you in.

you were just a foot away from him, but you just seemed so ethereal with beauty that couldn’t be grasped that he felt as if he was worlds away from you. you were effortlessly alluring, drawing him in with every breath you took. spencer lifted a hand slightly before stopping himself, reconsidering his action.

you looked so fragile and delicate, an angelic aura radiating off of you. it was as if his bare hands shouldn’t be able to have the privilege to touch you. his fantasies drifted as his gaze deepened, him imagining your soft, perfect lips around his aching shaft. you slowly closed the gap between you two, gently sinking down to his lap, keeping your toned legs on either side of him.

his breath hitched as his fingertips came into contact with your bare thigh, your soft skin bringing him back to reality while simultaneously taking him even further away from it. his stare fell down to your parted legs, seeing the way the thin cloth around your body left just enough of you hidden for the imagination.

the gown teasingly crawled higher up. he gently placed his hands onto each one, massaging soft circles onto your skin with his thumbs. he looked up at your face, instantly sending a rush of blood right to his flushed cheeks. the sombre lighting in the room highlighted all your perfect features. 

your smooth skin was dusted with the pale glimmer of the moonlight. your long eyelashes framed your tantalizing eyes, the hairs casting shadows underneath them. his soul had left his body, causing him to feel a high that he hadn’t known he’d been craving his whole life. you snaked your elegant fingers to his defined biceps, caressing his soft skin.

your gentle touch seemed to snap him out of his compulsive gaze, a lovesick grin tugging at his lips. he brought his lips to your ear, his words sounding as smooth as honey. “you’re so perfect.” he paused for a moment. “no. that word seems too platitude to describe you. i don’t believe there’s any word strong enough to describe how you make me feel.”

his hands began to travel underneath the fabric, him being able to feel your body without the interruption of underwear in his way. you brought your hands down to the rim of the nightgown, slowly pulling it off your body. you slipped it off, tossing the lifeless mass of silk to the ground as he gawked at you.

he writhed slightly, the burning sensation in his core growing at a rapid pace. there you were, in your simplest form but somehow making his mind come up with concepts that he had never imagined before. for all he was concerned, you were a goddess.

his eyes moved down to your breasts, each one mirroring the other with every precise curve. your hard nipples stuck out, signalling your neediness. he looked at your waist, moving down to your hips where your bodies were connected. his arms slithered around your waist, him burying his face into your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

soft, barely audible moans slipped from your mouth. each noise that you made seemed to make his addiction to you grow even stronger. he peppered kisses all over your neck, the sloppiness of them moving down to your collarbone and chest. he muttered tiny little praises as his curious lips wandered up and down your chest.  

“you are absolutely heavenly…” he gently flipped you around, setting you comfortably on your back as he sat in between your parted legs, his kisses moving to your thighs. he gave each one a gentle squeeze, the softness of them granting his body with sensations that couldn’t be captured with words.

being around you filled him with such euphoria. it was an ecstatic feeling that nothing else could ever come close to. he deeply kissed your legs, allowing his hands to roam the masterpiece that was your body. he was still reeling over the fact that he had you all to himself right now. that truly was a blessing.

he had become so drunk on your presence that he was completely oblivious to the way his hips bucked into the mattress, desperate for even the smallest amount of pleasure. though you couldn’t make out the little things he said, you could feel the depth that his words carried. “you must’ve been sculpted by the gods…”

he feasted on your soft skin, his pecks leaving tiny marks in his tracks. “i want to be with you forever. ‘til death do us part, my dear…” he seemed so content with just being with you at this moment. he was overwhelmed with the abundance of your perfection. 

he felt greedy for thinking of fucking you. copulation with you was a concept too divine for him. he recognized it in its purest form, truly understanding it and wanting nothing more than to put you on the altar of his love and respect, putting his heart, soul, mind, body, spirit and every cell in his body into drawing out pure divinity onto you, treating you like the work of art that he made you out to be.

[pinkiebieberpie]

(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ he's a gentleman

[moth-feeet]

I look at this picture of Matthew and see spencer meeting his child for the first time

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Only One Worth Posing For

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You're a famous photographer so you often get invited to red carpet events. Your best friend is an actor, and you've taken tons of pictures of him. The only problem is that he only poses for your camera.

Square Filled: ​“yeah, you’re cold. I’m giving you my jacket” for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Camera? Check. Extra lenses? Check. Press pass? Check. Supply bag? Check. Gorgeous pink dress you got just for this event? Check. You check the time on your phone to make sure you’re not running late, which you’re not. Your best friend should already be at the movie premier for his new movie, and you’re one of the photographers on the red carpet.

You’re a famous photographer that takes pictures of celebrities for events like movie premiers, the Met Gala, award shows, etc. Your career started in high school when you took almost all of the pictures for the yearbooks. Then, you took pictures of your friend’s graduation pictures and got paid less than one hundred dollars for it. Once in college, you took a lot of photography classes that allowed you to hone your skills and become better.

Someone saw your pictures on your college website and loved them so they got in contact with you, and that’s how you got your first job at a magazine. It took about a decade to get to where you are now and you couldn’t be happier. Along the way, you’ve met and hung out with a ton of celebrities including your best friend. You two met back when you were the photographer for the magazine, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

Speaking of the devil, he texts you just as you are leaving the apartment.

Are you on your way?

just leaving now! be there soon xx

I can’t wait to see you :)

The message brings a smile to your face. He never fails to lift your spirits no matter how you’re feeling. He sent for a car to take you to the movie premier instead of you taking your own. When you get there, the place is packed with press, fans, and cars carrying celebrities. 

“Thank you,” you smile at the driver and get out.

You head to the booth to check in and present your press pass to her. She confirms you’re on the list before letting you inside the area where the press is located. You set your bag on the ground and take out your favorite lens to use in times like these, the kind of lens that allows you to zoom in clearly even from where you are. The more popular you got, the more expensive equipment you bought.

You got here at the right time because celebrities show up not long after you get set up. Much like everyone here, you call their names in hopes they pose for your camera. You get a lot of good shots of very iconic celebrities like Johnny Depp, Jennifer Lopez, Morgan Freeman, Julia Roberts, and Sandra Bullock. The movie did so much press to make sure it is the most popular movie which is why so many celebrities are here.

You look to the left and see your best friend walk down the red carpet with a huge smile on his face. Matthew Gray Gubler. A man of many tricks. A man who never fails to make you smile. He looks past every person who calls out his name until he finds your camera. His eyes light up and begins posing for your camera and your camera only.

“Matthew! Look over here!” one of them says but he ignores them,

‘Stop it’, you mouth to him and his smile only gets bigger. What did you expect? He always does this whenever you’re in the crowd with a camera. He only cares about you and your career. If you can get good pictures of him, then you can sell them for a lot of money. People around you are frustrated with you and him but you don’t care about them.

Matthew leaves the red carpet and joins the group of celebrities who are hanging outside before they can go inside the theater. There are only a few more celebrities to capture, then you’re packing up your things. Apart from being part of the press, Matthew invited you as his plus one.

“Are you serious with Matthew?” one of the other photographers says.

“Sorry. Maybe next time,” you shrug.

You bring your case back to the town car that is still waiting for you, and you toss your press pass into the backseat. There is no reason for you to have two outfits when you can wear your red carpet outside as one of the press. You walk back over to the same booth and check in as a guest. She gives you your guest pass and you make your way into the area where all the celebrities are.

“I’m gonna slap that motherfucker when I see him,” you joke to yourself.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Shemar Moore smiles when he sees you.

“Shemar! I thought you were still filming S.W.A.T.,” you grin and hug him.

“I couldn’t miss this premier.”

“Where is Matthew?”

“Last I saw him was by the entrance to the theater.”

“Great. I’ll see you inside.” You leave his side and go find your best friend. He’s talking to one of the younger and newer kid stars, and you slink up to his side. “Excuse me. Mind if I borrow him for a second?”

“Sure. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

You pull him to the side and away from everyone for some semi-privacy.

“What the hell was that back there?”

“What?” he laughs.

“You can’t keep posing for my camera only.”

“You tell me this every time, and what do I keep telling you?” 

“Mine is the only one worth posing for.”

“See? It’s law at this point.”

He leans in and kisses you quickly. You two have been testing the waters for a romantic relationship for the last couple of weeks. It’s been going well because you’re taking it at your own speed without the public knowing. 

“You’re gonna piss off the other photographers.”

“I don’t care.”

He pulls you in and kisses you much deeper this time. You only allow two minutes to yourselves before you pull away from him. Goosebumps litter your arms and you shiver slightly under his gaze.

“You’re shivering. Are you cold?”

“That’s not why I’m shivering,” you say and shiver again.

“Yeah, you’re cold. I’m giving you my jacket.”

He sheds his jacket and slings it over your shoulder to provide you with warmth. He slides his hand into yours and pulls you toward the entrance to the theater.

“Let’s go watch this movie. Afterward, you’re gonna let me take you home.”

“We live together,” you giggle.

“Even better.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Only for you,” he winks and kisses your cheek.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

Coming October 2024.

Hello, I'm not sure if the people who are reading this are familiar with my writing or with me, so I would like to introduce myself, I AM 23 years old, a female and a full-time caregiver for my mother, Matthew Gray. Gubler has helped me get through a lot of rough times and I think about him all the time and I know he loves Halloween. I have written 25 days of December. With Matthew Gray Gubler and now I am going to be posting the 31 days of October with Matthew Gray Gubler. I have more titles coming up. Some of the titles that are posted here may be changed. I look forward to writing these. And I hope that everyone enjoys reading them.

intro.

October 1st: Indoor decorating.

October 2ed: Outdoor Decorating.

October 3rd: Going to the pumpkin patch.

October 4th: Pumpkin carving.

October 5th: Displaying our pumpkins.

October 6th:  The craft store.

October 7th: Making Halloween decorations.

October 8th: Haunted House.

October 9th: The candy store.

October 10th: Apple orchard.

October 11th: caramel Apples

October 12th: Pumpkin pie.

October 13th: The Halloween store.

October 14th: Halloween Cookies

October 15th: Haunted House Day 2

October 16th:  Fun in the fall leaves.

October 17th: a sweet surprise

October 18th: Spooky Fiesta

October 19th: Fall Festival

October 20th: hayride

October 21st: rainy day Movie Day

October 22nd: Halloween Carnival

October 23rd: costume store

October 24th: title to be announced

October 25th: title to be announced

October 26th: title to be announced

October 27th: gourmet popcorn store

October 28th, Scary Movie Day

October 29th title to be announced

October 30th: Halloween Eve at the cinema.

October 31st: Halloween.

More titles coming soon.

[babymetaldoll]

Prompts (MGGx Fem!reader blurb) 

Requested: Nope

Warnings: zero, nothing, maybe a curse, but that's it.

Summary: (Y/N) Gubler needs her husband's help to pick a prompt to write a Halloween story. Luckily, Matthew is a Halloween expert.

A/N: Honestly, I wrote this 'cos I asked one of my best friends for Halloween prompts ideas, and she said "Wouldn't it be great to ask Matthew?"... so I did. And this happened.

Masterlist

(Y/N) lit a candle and held a few crystals close to her chest for a few seconds, as she mumbled something. After a moment, she sighed, looked before her, and left the stones beside the candle. 

- “Come to me, come to me.”- she whispered as she stared at a blank page in her computer.- “Inspiration, please come to me.”

- “Hey Bunny, how’s the writing doing?”- Matthew’s voice nearly made her jump as he walked into the room holding two fresh cups of coffee. 

- “It’s not going anywhere.”- the writer sighed as she accepted with a smile the hot beverage her husband brought her. 

- “What’s wrong? Can’t focus?”

- “I have zero idea what to write.”- she pouted as Gubler sipped his coffee. - “Not true, I know I wanna write short Halloween stories. I just need some prompts to inspire me.” 

- “Maybe I can help. I don’t know if you’ve heard but… I’m kind of a Halloween expert.”

- “It’s September 18th, still hot as balls out there, and our house is fully decorated for Gublerween, sir. I know Halloween is your life.” 

- “And yet, you force me to celebrate HalloReid every single freaking year. That guy is stealing my thunder.”

Gubler pretended to be upset, the same he did every time his famous character “Spencer Reid” was mentioned around the house. His wife chuckled and shook her head as she stared at him, sitting on her desk, looking as dreamy as always. 

- “You shouldn’t be jealous of Spence. I told you I just like him as a friend. It’s you the one I married.”- Guber chuckled at those words and moved a chair closer to him to sit next to his wife. 

- “Ok, then let me help you with your writing problem.” 

- “Fine… so, I need prompt ideas for short stories.”

- “What about a vampire story? You haven’t written anything like that as far as I remember.” 

- “One, a million years ago, about a vampire who wanted to be human. He was fun, he actually went to therapy.”- (Y/N) commented, feeling excited about that particular story. No one had read it, but she was proud of it. 

- “Doesn’t sound creepy enough for Halloween.”- Gub argued right away- “How about vampires getting ready to throw a party at their castle?” 

- “Doesn’t sound creepy either.”- (Y/N) complained and stuck her tongue out to her husband. 

- “Very mature, but I wasn’t finished yet. They are throwing a party to suck all the blood from their guesses.” 

- “No one will ever leave the ball alive.”- Mrs. Gubler added with a creepy voice and her husband nodded, excited. 

- “Exactly!”

- “It has potential, give me more.”- Matthew left his coffee on the desk and wrapped his arms around her waist.- “Give me more ideas!!”

- “Sorry! You have to be more specific!”- he chuckled and kissed her neck before letting her go. - “Okay, more Halloween ideas… how about a story about a woman who hates clowns and her husband secretly decides to hire a clown for their son's birthday party, which just happens to be on Halloween?”

(Y/N) stared at Matthew, who smiled at her, trying to hold back the chuckles. 

- “That’s not a story prompt, that’s what you did last year! And you nearly killed me!”

- “You have to get over your clown fear!” 

- “I will not have this argument with you again.”- she crossed her arms on her chest and shook her head. Matthew just smiled and kissed the tip of her nose with a sweet smile. 

- “Fine… how about dating someone and discovering they are not human?”

- “I told you I’m not writing about us!”- she joked and Gubler laughed. 

- “Fair enough, Bunny! I have one last idea and then I’ll leave you to write in peace.”  

- “Give me your best prompt”- she replied with a playful smile.

- “Why don’t you write about a costume competition at a Halloween party?”

- “It’s not creepy”- the writer whined immediately, but Matthew smiled and stood up. 

- “Not a creepy prompt, but you can add a lot to that idea. Think about it. It could have it all: fun, weird costumes, the surprise creepy element.”- (Y/N) thought about it and nodded. 

- “Sold! I’m writing that.”

- “Great! I can’t wait to read it!”- Matthew leaned over and kissed his wife’s lips softly.- “And meanwhile, I’m gonna pick up the kids from school.” 

- “I’ll make good use of the quiet of the house in the meantime then.”

- “If you want, I could keep them out of the house for a little longer.”- Gubler smiled innocently, but his wife saw through him. 

- “You are not taking them to get more Halloween decorations!”

- “Oh come on!! I think there’s an empty spot under the stairs! We can’t have that!”

- “No Gub. Oh! And don’t forget this Thursday it’s the evening parent-teacher conference. You go to Vinnie’s and I go to Tilly’s.”

- “Can we swap? I always get Vinnie.”

- “Because Tilly’s teacher keeps flirting with you.”- Mrs. Gubler replied immediately, making her husband laugh.

- “As she could ever stand a chance next to you.”- Matthew winked at (Y/N) and walked out of the room shouting “Love you”. She smiled and grabbed the cup of coffee one more time. 

- “Now, a costume contest at a Halloween party… costume party… let’s do this.”

[avis-writeshq]

Hi! Can I request track one? :)

Spencer Reid being so shy to ask Fem! Reader out so Morgan flirts with them to push him to do it?:(

pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: friends to lovers warnings: not proof read :( a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 700

Spencer isn’t entirely sure why he’s so upset. He’s got his lips drawn to a pout and his eyes are set on the computer in front of him. He chalks it up to the fact that his contact lenses have been drying out. That must be it.

“Stare any harder and you’ll break the screen.”

You’re giggling at his unhappiness, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of annoyance. In moments you’re placing a steaming cup of tea onto his desk with a tiny pitcher of milk, before swiping a few of his files off his pile. 

“You don’t–”

“Hush, Spencer. You probably have filled more overtime hours in the past week than I have in the last four years. Let me take these off of you, okay?” You smile at him before leaning down to murmur into his ear, “They’re probably Morgan’s anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

Spencer flushes, his cheeks warming to a pretty pink at your closeness and he can smell your vanilla perfume. Every thought in his brain vanishes and he’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to think for the next hour or so. His mouth opens and closes like a broken hinge and you walk away to sit at your own desk. 

“When’s the wedding?” Derek asks through a snicker, reaching a hand out and ruffling Spencer’s already unkempt hair. 

“Wh– stop,” Spencer manages weakly, pushing his bangs out of the way and huffing. “Keep your voice down.”

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to ask her to see that Russian film festival or something?” Derek asks, unrelenting. He gestures to the two tickets poking out of one of Spencer’s book. “You already bought them?”

“I won them,” he corrects, scowling. “Stop laughing!”

“Dude, you have to ask her out,” Derek tries again. “Kid, I’m serious. A girl like that isn’t going to wait around forever.”

Spencer’s annoyance is quick to dissipate into flusteredness, and he avoids his friend’s gaze. “She shouldn’t have to.”

“Come on, don’t beat yourself up. Just go talk to her.”

His efforts are in vain as Spencer huffs again and turns back to his paperwork. Morgan shrugs, flexing his arms. It’s far too early to be dealing with Spencer’s shyness and pining. Morgan watches as he sneaks yet another look in your direction, and it takes a lot in him to not throw the two of you together. Emily keeps reminding him to be patient. Penelope keeps informing him that ‘they’ll get together in their own time’. Hotch would spare him a stern look. 

They’re not in the room, though.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Morgan’s call out is enough for you to raise your head and for Spencer’s face to morph into look of genuine betrayal. He’s frantically moving his hand across his neck as a very obvious sign to cut it out. Morgan pays him no mind.

“What’s up?” You ask brightly, finishing your sentence before turning to look at him. “Did you need something?”

“You’re looking particularly gorgeous today, you know that?” Derek wears a lazy smirk as he looks at you up and down, and you only manage to laugh.

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes, glancing briefly at Spencer who could have been mistaken for a cherry. “What are you playing at, Morgan?”

The man claps his hands together, rubbing his palms. “Are you free tomorrow night? I’ve got a bottle of wine that has our names on it.”

Spencer looks aghast. He recalls the information on the tickets he had won, and– tomorrow night. That’s when the film festival is happening. 

“She doesn’t drink,” Spencer butts in before you can respond, snatching the tickets from the inside of his book and getting up from his seat to make his way over to you. “I was um– I’ve got these tickets for a film festival tomorrow. It’s in Russian, but I can whisper the translations to you so you understand. You don’t– you don’t have to go. I know it might not be your thing–”

“I’d love to go, Spence.” You smile at him, plucking one of the tickets from his hands. “A whole evening with you? Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Sorry, Derek.”

Derek raises his hands in surrender, and when you aren’t looking, shoots Spencer a thumbs up. Penelope would be proud. 

reblogs are always appreciated !

events page

[eideticmemory]

BABY DADDY | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

A one night stand leads to much, much more than either of you bargained for.

Word Count: 8.3k

Warning/Includes: BabyDaddy!Matthew, duh!!! Smut Lite™️.

So, the thing about babies is that they don’t really give a fuck about context. They truly couldn’t care less about what you’re doing, what’s happening in your life, your goals, your dreams, your ambitions. It’s all irrelevant. They will show up anyway. And what the little clump of cells in your uterus has failed to realize is that you do not know their father. At all.

Seriously.

You know him biblically. Obviously. You’ve shared drinks and a bed. You’ve seen him naked. He’s seen you naked. You’ve spent, maybe, an hour and a half together total. And you spent the majority of that time making the conscious decision to leave together, undress and fuck. You’re pretty sure the last thing you said to him was, “Safe travels.” As in, I don’t want to see you again. As in, If all goes well, I should never have to see you again.

You used a condom. You’re not dumb, you used a condom. So when weeks passed by and your period was late, you didn’t think anything of it. It happens. Sometimes periods are just late.

But it never came.

You bought the pregnancy test just to be safe. In fact, you were so sure that you were playing it safe that you didn’t take it for another three days. Pushing it back and back, hoping your period would come.

It didn’t.

So you squatted over the toilet and got a good amount of pee on the thing and waited two minutes just for it to stare you directly in the eye and say: FUCK YOU, DUMB BITCH. YOU’RE PREGNANT.

Okay, it just said pregnant. But that’s what went through your head. Your knees buckled and you grabbed your stomach, almost like you could feel the thing just hanging out in there. You doubled over, thinking you were going to puke, but you didn’t. You eye the test again and then, out of pure nerves, you puke.

You buy two more tests. They call you a dumb bitch again, just a little louder. You want a bottle of wine but you don’t have one because you’re pregnant. You want a lighter and a goddamn cigarette but you don’t have one because you don’t even smoke and you’re pregnant.

You sit down for lunch with your friend and it’s the first time you say these words out loud.

She yells, “You’re what?”

Pregnant!

You give her this look that says please don’t make me say it again and she doesn’t. She heard you very well the first time.

“W-wh-what…” she trembles. Shaking, like she’s the one knocked up. “What? H-how…what? who’s the daddy?”

You sigh, cut your eyes up at her, and her jaw drops, stuttering, “O-oh…no…no…[y/n]…no.”

“It’s gotta be him. He’s the last guy I had sex with. I had gotten my period before then. Now, no period, three positive pregnancy tests.”

“Three?” she shouts. “Oh, so you’re pregnant pregnant?”

“Yeah, I took three just to be sure and they all told me to go kill myself. So.”

“Oh my god…” she shudders. “Oh my god? Oh my…” and she chugs her glass of wine in one big gulp. It looks good.

“What are you going to do?” she asks you.

You shrug, your mind made up, “I’m keeping it.”

“What?”

“Okay, you need to quiet down now before we get kicked out of here.”

“What do you mean keeping it? As in, giving birth? As in, raising a child?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“O…kay…and the baby daddy?”

You shrug, “What about him?”

“I-“ she slams her hands down. “[y/n].”

“What?”

“You’re not gonna tell him?”

“Why would I? I have a house and a job and insurance and a 401K, I can take care of my kid.”

“Well, yeah…but it’s…his kid, too? Why-why are you keeping it if you’re not gonna tell him?”

“Because I want a baby. I don’t know. I-I thought about…getting it sucked out of there, but I don’t wanna. I want a baby. I want a kid. And yeah, this…isn’t the conventional way of doing that, but I never much saw myself with a husband anyway.”

“So…what’s the plan? Matthew’s just walking down the street one day and a little carbon copy of him comes out of the shadows saying ooh, aah, look at me! I’m the love child you unintentionally abandoned 10 years ago! That’s fucked.”

“What if he doesn’t care? What if he wants to abandon the kid? What if we’re on the same page?”

“Then at least give him the option.”

“Ugh.”

“[y/n], just give him the option. What? You can gargle his cock in your mouth but you can’t have a conversation? You need to tell him.”

“Okay…” you roll your eyes.

“And whatever the outcome, he stills owes you money. He stills owes some type of financial support, whether you want it or not.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Whatever. Look, I work with him when he’s in town, okay? I see him, I have to interact with him, I can’t hold on to this and I can’t be the one to tell him. [y/n]…please…”

“Okay!”

“Okay?”

You huff, “Okay. Fine.”

“Okay. You have his number?”

“No.”

“Classy,” she quips as she scrolls through her phone and you roll your eyes, “Okay, I’m airdropping it to you now.”

His contact comes through to your phone and you only stare at it long enough to accept and then you plant the device face down on the table. You suck back an anxious gulp of water and fidget with your hands, “This is your fault, you know?”

“What? How?”

“You’re the one that introduced us. At that launch party or whatever. What was that even about?”

“It was the launch party for a new production company and fuck you, you whore. I didn’t force you to go and get yourself knocked up. That was all you, Matthew and those free shots.”

“Oh, please, you practically threw us together.”

“Yeah, well, sue me, I thought you guys would hit it off,” she shrugs. “Not quite this much, but…”

The two of you sit in silence, looking around the restaurant, picking at your food.

“So,” she pips.

Your eyes flicker up at her.

“How was it?” she smirks. “Worth a baby?”

You let a long sigh, shaking your head with a very violent roll of your eyes, “Honestly…yeah…”

So far, pregnancy doesn’t suck. You’re still early, still not showing. There’s been no nausea or bloating. The insomnia, however, is getting ridiculous. You’re normally the type of girl to crash in bed as soon as possible, knocked out the moment your head hits the pillow. It is now midnight and your eyes are wide open, unable to relax. You check everything possible off of your to-do list, even scheduling your first obstetrician appointment. The only thing you haven’t done is call Matthew, having had his number sitting in your phone for close to a week now. To make it worse, all you want is a cinnamon roll. But not just any cinnamon roll. One from the late night bakery down the street. This is especially dangerous because you know very well that they are still open and somewhere out there is a cinnamon roll with your name on it. It would be nuts to leave the warmth of your bed right now, walk a mile in the dead of night, just for a cinnamon roll.

But you’re going to.

You bundle up and head out into the summer night, looking completely insane. Hoodie, sweats, tattered sneakers built for walking down the New York City sidewalks. It’s not far and you walk fast, faster than normal tonight because the craving is just that strong. You make it in all of ten minutes and within five more, you have the box cracked open and are tearing a piece off with your bare hands.

You look up for merely a second and your eyes catch him immediately. Now, you’re tired. Your blood sugar’s just shot up but you’re pretty sure it’s him. Posing for a picture with a fan. Tall. Beautiful. Smiling. His eyes land on you and he excuses himself, throws up a wave. You jump, looking around, contemplating running. But, yeah. That wouldn’t be suspicious at all. By the time you stop fidgeting, he’s standing over you and you’re trapped.

“Hi!” he greets you. “Hi, [y/n], how are you?”

You wipe frosting from your mouth and chuckle, more caught off guard by his remembering your name than anything. You cough, “Hi. Matthew, hi. I’m good. I’m doing good. How are you?”

“Good! Just heading home.”

“Oh! Oh, you have a place in New York?”

“Yeah, near the park, just a few blocks over. You live around here?”

“Uh…” you did not know this so you’re forcing your brain to catch up. “Uh, yeah, yeah. About a block over, just… couldn’t sleep. Wanted a cinnamon roll.”

“Looks good,” he giggles. “You look good.”

“Oh, you’re full of shit,” you smile.

“No! No, I mean it. You look great. I love the cinnamon roll run outfit. Honestly.”

You blush, you don’t mean to, but you blush. “Well, thank you. You look good, too.” He does. You can tell he’s just leaving somewhere because he’s dressed up and you suddenly remember very vividly how you ended up pregnant.

“Aw, thank you. I appreciate that…” his eyes scan over you. “Where did you say you live? Can I walk you home? It’s late.”

You want to shout No! Thank you! and run. It wouldn’t be hard to do. Why not? Still, you say, “Yes. Yeah, I’d like that.”

And so the two of you stroll down the empty sidewalks together, he does most of the talking. You can hear it in his voice that he’s flirting. You’ve heard it before. It has been successful, with you, before. Yet, you’re too busy this time around trying not to puke. He walks you to your door and you notice your cinnamon roll has gone cold in your hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles. “We should get together again, if you’re up for it.”

You nod, “Mhm. Yeah. That sounds nice. Um, I’ll give you my number.” He instantly pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it over. He’s serious. You type your name and number in and hand it back, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Perfect,” his fingers linger on yours as he takes his phone back. “I’ll call you. Hey, could I use your bathroom? I pee fast so I won’t inconvenience you too long.”

No!

You snicker, “Yeah…” you start to unlock the door. “Of course. Sorry in advance, it’s a little messy.”

“Oh, a little mess doesn’t scare me,” he laughs.

You let him in and point out the bathroom and as soon as he disappears, closes the door behind him, you release the breath that’s been trapped in your chest and plop down on the couch. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The toilet flushes and then there’s a loud bang from the bathroom and you snap back to reality. “Matthew?” you call. “You alright in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he calls in response. “Just kicked over your trash can. Sorry!”

“That’s okay!” you reply. You relax.

It is definitely not okay.

You hop up and sprint to the bathroom door. You don’t even knock, you just burst into the bathroom where Matthew is picking up the spilled trash. Your eyes instantly land on the pregnancy tests and you can’t do anything but stand in wait.

When he notices them, he laughs. Not a cackle, but a soft giggle, almost silly, “You pregnant or something?” he asks. It’s a joke. He’s making a joke.

He looks at your face. It’s not a joke.

He stops laughing. He stops smiling. You’ve never seen someone’s entire being go so pale.

“Oh, you’re…” he stutters. “You’re…” he breathes. “Is it mine?”

You can hardly look him in the eye but you do and you nod.

“How long have you known?”

You gulp, “Like…a week. I haven’t been to the doctor or anything.”

“Are you…” you can see his chest heaving. “Are you serious?”

You nod, “Yes.”

He looks around the bathroom, wobbling on his heels and you worry he’s going to pass out. Instead, he slams the toilet seat down and sits on it, falls on it. “What…what are you going to do?”

“I’m…” you clear your throat. “Keeping it.”

“Oh.” he says. “You don’t...you’re not…”

“No. I don’t want that.”

And this is where his words became jumbled. Mumbled. Barely incoherent. He, himself, cannot even figure out what he’s trying to say.

“Look,” you interrupt him. “You don’t have to be involved, okay? You don’t even need to be on the birth certificate. I can handle this. I will handle this. If you wanna drop me a couple hundreds bucks every month and call it a day, that’s fine. If you don’t? Also fine. But I need to know because we’re…not…confusing this kid, okay? So, you need to be all in or all out.”

“Are you...” he cuts his eyes up at you and then promptly rises to his feet. “I can’t do this right now.”

You’re so dumbfounded as he rushes past you that your brain doesn’t even fully process it until he’s almost out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I have to clear my head. I-I have to get out of here.”

“Uh, okay...” he closes the door in your face. “Bye…”

And in the wake of all this exciting, suddenly surrounded by silence and cut tension, you remember your cinnamon roll. You want it after all.

When your friend asks if you’ve told Matthew, you say, “Yes.”

“Oh, shit. You called him?”

“No.” And you have to explain. You have to explain every awkward, uncomfortable, terrible second.

“And I haven’t heard from him since,” you shrug.

“Really?”

You nod.

She sighs, “Wow…fuck him.”

“Fuck him.”

And you meant that. You’re content with that. You feel like you can move on. Prepare, nest, move forward. Then he calls you. Out of nowhere. His name pops up on your phone and silences the music that had been playing while you took a bath. You stare at the screen for a long time, wondering if it’s best to protect your peace. It is. But still, you answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, [y/n]?” he clears his throat. “It’s Matthew.”

“Matthew,” you sigh. “Hi.”

“Hey, um, when is your first doctor’s appointment? Has that passed already?”

“Um…” you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely confused. “No. It’s on the twenty-sixth. At Aster on the upper west side. Eleven o’clock.”

Silence.

Then, he says, “Okay…okay, I’ll be there.”

You shrug, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

You arrive at 10:45. You do not expect him to show up, like truly expect him to show up. So when he comes walking into the waiting room, your heart genuinely stops. You cross and uncross your legs, shuffling in your seat.

“Hi,” you whisper, with very minimal eye contact.

“Hi.”

The nurse calls your name and Matthew follows you into the examination room, taking a seat beside you. The technician asks you a series of questions about your last period, your symptoms, your health history and Matthew hears none of it.

“And are you dad?” she asks him.

He feels like he’s going to throw up. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

You roll your eyes and luckily, this kind woman cuts the tension pretty quickly. She slathers this cold gel on your belly and presses the wand to your skin and the heartbeat picks up immediately.

“Oh, wow, strong heartbeat already!” she grins at you. But you can’t take your eyes off the monitor. Matthew either. “You’re right around ten weeks so there’s the little head and you can see their arms and legs starting to form here.”

You can. You can really see it. There’s a baby in there. Barely. But a baby! You look at Matthew and his look of pure terror mirrors yours. It’s kind of comforting.

The nurse wipes you off and says, “So your estimated due date is March 10th, but again, that’s just an estimate so take it with a grain of salt because babies tend to follow their own schedule. You’re looking at anywhere from two to three days before or after.”

“Holy shit,” Matthew swears. “That’s the day after my birthday.”

“Is it really?” you tilt your head and at this, the nurse is dumbfounded. At this, Matthew is completely silenced.

You ask for two separate copies of the ultrasound and the technician has gotten over the shock. She’s not going to question it anymore, not going to give it any thought. Let you two sort it out.

As you stand outside afterwards, twiddling your thumbs, unsure of what to say or what to do, he asks, “Are you hungry? Can I take you to lunch?”

You cross your arms, wanting to say no. Wanting to lie. Instead you sigh, “Yes,” you nod. “Yes, please. I’m fucking starving.”

So he takes you to a cafe down the street where you order possibly the biggest burger even seen and fries and a cup of veggies and a piece of cake. It’s awkward, silent, and he just watches you eat. Almost like he can’t wrapped his head around it. You come up for air and catch his gaze.

“Hey,” you swallow. “Don’t look at me crazy. You’ve never had something in your body competing for resources.”

He chuckles, “No judgement. Eat what you want.”

“That was my plan.”

He picks at his food for a few moments and then sighs, “So…how…how are we gonna do this?”

You would ask for more context but you don’t need it. You know exactly what he means. You shrug, “I don’t know…” you shrug again. “I don’t know, just…do the best we can, I guess?”

He nods, “Yeah. Yeah, that always seems to work for everyone else.”

September | 14 Weeks

The deal is that Matthew will come in every four weeks for your appointments. This is what he agrees to, but you’re not convinced it will happen. But your next appointment rolls around and you’re shocked to walk in and find he’s beat you there. This time, he sees you and he smiles. His eyes scan over your figure as you take a seat, he goes, “Oh, you’re…you’re kinda starting to…”

You glance down at your tiny baby bump and you have this weird urge all the time to touch it so you do. “Oh. Yeah. I finally had to start telling people at work. They made me a registry.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What…what do you need me to get? What does a baby need?”

“God, dude, too much shit, I swear. Plus, I don’t even know what I want to dress her in. There’s like a million different brands and they all look the same or are made from spider silk or something stupid. I don’t know.”

He tilts his head at you, “Her? You think it’s a girl?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I don’t think we can find out just yet anyway but, maybe?”

This little grin appears on his face and he almost reaches in to your bump, but he doesn’t. He shuffles in his seat, clears his throat, “A girl would be nice.”

You smile, “I think so, too.”

You both get your updated ultrasounds to go and the technician is greatful to not feel so suffocated this time. The energy around the two of you has shifted. Not much. You’re still strangers and it shows. But it’s different. You smile, you joke around, Matthew speaks up, asks questions.

It’s different.

At the end of the appointment, he asks you, “Hey, are you busy tonight?”

“Oh…” you’re caught off guard. “No. Why?”

“I was wondering if you might want to come over? For dinner maybe?”

“Oh.”

“Nothing…weird. I just…want you to know where I live and…I don’t know, I thought we could just talk.”

“Um. Okay. Okay. Send me your address.”

“Okay. I will.”

And so because you reluctantly agreed, you show up at his doorstep at six o’clock sharp. You’re not dressed up or anything, but it’s starting to get cold and you just threw on this big puffy jacket.

He opens the door and greets you with a bright smile, saying, “Hey, you. Come in.”

“Thanks,” you meekly walk in and instantly look around his place and oh, it’s fucking gorgeous. Comforting. Because you can’t have a baby with someone who lacks interior design skills.

“Are you still craving chinese? I got us a fuck ton.”

“Oh, my god,” you sigh in relief, smelling the food, instantly plopping down at the kitchen table. “Oh, my god, yes, thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles.

You look around and notice the ultrasounds on his fridge, staring at them as he sets up a plate for you.

He takes a seat beside you and takes a bite of his food, then asking, “So, where are you from?”

It catches you off guard so you laugh, “What?”

“Where are you from? What’s your family like? Where’d you go to school?”

“Um, okay…what…you interrogating me?”

He laughs, “No. No, sorry. I just…uh, I wanna get to know you better, that’s all. You can ask me anything you wanna know, too.”

“Hm,” you nod. “Okay.” And you spill your guts.

You wrap your life up in a nutshell and it becomes this rapid game of back and forth about whose parents did this and how many siblings do you have and who was your first crush. Who’s your best friend. Who’s the last person you dated. Tell me about all the people you’ve dated!

Your baby daddy is kind of a slut, but, honestly, who are you to judge?

He’s funny. As far as you can tell, he’s honest. He doesn’t have or want to hide anything from you. What’s the point?

“So, um,” he says. “Why don’t I make you a drink and give you a little tour? Oh, wait, you…”

“Can’t drink,” you nod. “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Sorry,” he laughs. “I have sparkling cider.”

“Bleh.”

“Sparkling water?”

“Bleh.”

“I…orange juice?” he laughs but you’re dead serious.

“That sounds so fucking good right now.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles. “Okay, you got it.”

And so, with your cup of orange juice, you follow him around his home. You see his bedroom, his office, and in the corner of the house, an empty room where he proclaims, “This will be the little guy’s room. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with it yet, but definitely something.”

It’s beautiful. Lots of natural light but he says he’s already started looking at blackout curtains. “And then in my room,” he adds as you walk by. “I’ll have one of those little beside bassinet things, y’know? Just until he gets a little bigger.”

You look up at him with this sober look. You stumble around until you find somewhere to put your glass down and he asks, “You alright?”

You turn back to him and almost immediately jump into his arms, mouth open, a whole growing human between the of you, but still you are close. But still, you are kissing.

“Woah…” he huffs. “W-what…what are you…”

“Sorry,” you breathe out. “It’s nothing personal. I’ve just got a lot of blood rushing to a lot of different places and w-what?” you stutter because he’s caressing your face. “Y’know, it’s not like you can get me pregnant. It’s more like a…a favor?”

His eyes scan over your face and he nods, scoops you up in his arms like it’s nothing. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense,” and he carries you into his bedroom.

October | 18 Weeks

The greeting this week is different. In the past few weeks, there’s been a lot more casual texting. A lot of Matthew asking: Hey, how are you feeling today? Do you need anything? Do you have groceries? You appreciate it.

He walks into the waiting room a few minutes after you and you actually stand to say hi.

“Hi, you!” he pips and he gives you a big hug. This time, he is not so shy and he takes a hold of your bump in both his hands, leaning down to say, “Hi, you! What are you doing in there? Woah!”

“Ah,” you groan. “Yeah, kicking the shit out of me. lately. Don’t get her riled up.”

But he pokes at your belly again and those legs come back swinging. He laughs, “Oh, my god, that’s so cool!”

“Yeah, not so much when it’s the middle of the night and it’s directly on your bladder.”

“Oof. Sorry, I should be stern,” he leans down. “Knock it off, kid.” And the kid kicks back.

“Oh! Jesus. Okay, that was…bad. Keep practicing.”

He cackles, “I will.”

In the exam room, the technician asks, “Do you wanna know the gender?” The smile on her face tells you that she already knows.

And as you shout an enthusiastic, “Yes!” Matthew is shaking his head, saying, “No.”

And then there’s silence.

“What…” you chuckle. “What do you mean no?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I kinda just wanna be surprised.”

“Hm…” you furrow your eyebrows. You turn to the technician, “Well, I wanna know, will you put it in an envelope for me?”

This envelope is hand delivered to you at the end of your appointment and you hold it tight in your hands all the way out the door. You tear into it as soon as you step outside and Matthew shouts, “Wait!”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna know! Open it when you’re alone.”

“Okay…” you shrug, putting the envelope in your purse.

The two of you stand there, silent, avoiding eye contact.

“Fine, open it,” he says.

“What?” you laugh. “I thought you didn’t wanna know?”

“I don’t! I don’t. But-but you should know. Open it.”

You roll your eyes at him and take the envelope out of your bag, breaking the seal, flipping it open and showing absolutely no emotion. You rise and fall from the tip of your toes, biting down on your lip.

“Oh, c’mon!” he groans. “What is it? What is it? What is it? Just tell me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You positive?”

“[y/n]…” he whines.

You chuckle and turn the paper around to face him and his entire expression goes blank.

“A boy?” he whispers. Followed by, “Oh, my god, a boy!” Then, “A boy?” Finally, “A boy…”

You giggle and nod, “A boy.”

Halloween falls on a work day, after which you immediately come home to take a nap. You awake to find missed calls and texts from Matthew, the last of which reads: I’m coming over. You see this just before he rings your doorbell.

You answer and flinch, caught off guard by his costume. His makeup, the whole thing. “Oh…” you say. “You did say you were weird about Halloween.”

“Um, I don’t know if weird is the word I used but…here! For you,” he hands you a bag full of candy and you laugh, taking it from him.

“Thank you.”

“And…also, for you,” and he hands you a pumpkin.

“Oh! Thanks?”

“It’s the exact same weight as the baby. Weighed it myself.”

And your heart just kind of melts. “Aw…that’s so cute…” you hold the thing in your hands and look down at it. “Wow, what? No fucking way that’s in there.” you say in disbelief, holding the pumpkin level with your belly.

The two of you burst into laughter and Matthew sighs, happily exclaming, “Yeah, that’s him.”

November | 22 Weeks

Before your next appointment, Matthew calls you to ask if you’ll spend Thanksgiving with him in Vegas.

“Y’know, I told my family and-and they were…y’know shocked. But, they wanna meet you. I’m sure you already have plans but if you don’t…I’d really love it if you came with me.”

You sit in silence for a second. “I…I don’t have plans. I’ll go.”

“Really?”

“Oh, did you…want me to say no?”

“No,” he laughs. “No. I just thought you would. Um, well, okay, cool! Cool. I’ll book the flight.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Matthew meets you at your place the day before Thanksgiving, greeting you with a hug and a kiss on your belly. “Hey, you ready?”

“Yeah…” you grumble. “I’m all packed, just tired.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Ha…ha…no, thanks.”

“I’m so dead serious. I’ve been lifting weights, gotta train to carry a baby around.”

“I’m telling you, this fucker is heavy.”

He laughs, “Yeah, he looks it already. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Um…” you sigh. “Can you just carry my bags?”

“[y/n].” He looks you in the eye. “I was going to do that anyway.”

You get sick on the plane and the flight attendant gives you ice to chew and a cold rag for your forehead. Matthew is constantly rubbing your leg and fanning you with the safety booklet.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry. What can I do?” he asks.

“Will you be the pregnant one for a little bit?”

“Yes, if that’s what you need.”

His face is serious and you can’t help but laugh, “Fuck you.”

As you drive through the desert, you have to keep your eyes closed to feel peace. You only open them when the car slows down and you arrive at the house.

“Oh, by the way,” Matthew says as he shuts the car off. “My family thinks we’re together. Like dating.”

Your eyes goes wide and you shoot up in your seat, “What? What?” you yell.

“Look, look, I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to say!”

“Uh, how about I got a little too drunk and horny on a Friday night and put a baby in someone? You don’t lie! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I…ugh! I’m sorry. I know, I know. I will tell them the truth, but not right now. [y/n], please.”

“No.”

“[y/n]…”

“No. Fuck you! How could you wait until we get here to tell me that bullshit? You’re insane!”

“Okay. Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, let’s just, please go inside and I will fix it.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna go inside now. You pissed me off.”

“Oh, my…” he huffs. “[y/n], please.”

“No!” you cross your arms. “I’m staying in the car.”

Just then, his mom comes rushing out the house, waving to you both from the front door and you have to put on a smile very quickly.

“I will tell them,” he whispers.

“Oh, you fucking better,” you sneer, still smiling. “Or I will.”

You play along as you’re introduced to everyone. You tell them about yourself. You show them the most recent ultrasound, you pig out on all the food just laying around and somehow, along the way, you forget why you were mad.

Until you retire to bed and they have you and Matthew set up in one room. Then, you are pissed all, over, again.

You rush into the shower to avoid him and when you come back out, he’s laying in the bed.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously.

“Fuck you.”

“Okay.”

“Did you tell them?”

“No. I’m sorry. I will.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Matthew.”

“[y/n]-“

“Matthew!”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll tell them now.”

“Yeah.”

Still, he lays there. “I…I pulled out your maternity pillow. All ready for you.”

“Get out the damn bed,” you grumble and he’s up before you lay down. And worse, he just stands there.

You roll over from your side, looking at him. He’s looking at you and his face pisses you off so you shout, “Matthew!”

“Okay!” and he leaves the room.

He comes back in after you’ve fallen asleep but still, half awake, you ask, “Did you tell them?” and you don’t even question it when he lays beside you, cradles you in his arms.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good.”

And you fall asleep just like that.

Thanksgiving goes well, despite the recent news. You practically clear the table yourself because you’re eating for two and one of you is much greedier than the other. You meet Matthew’s dad, who spends the entire evening lulling you into security just to later pull the two of you into a separate room.

Here, the conversation gets legal. And while you were not expecting it, you’re grateful. You hadn’t thought of any of this. Custody, exchange schedules, schools, primary addresses, out-of-state trips. All of it.

His dad finally asks, “And what last name will the baby be taking?”

You say, “[y/l/n],” as Matthew says, “Oh, Gubler, for sure.” And the two of you just slowly turn to look at each other.

“Oh…” he dad says. “You two should probably discuss.”

That discussion lasts well into the night. Through the drive to the airport. Through the flight.

By the time you land, you’ve compromised. You’ll hyphenate.

December | 26 Weeks

Your next appointment is just over a week before Christmas. Matthew agrees then to spend Christmas Eve with you. Your family comes into New York just to keep you from flying yourself. When they arrive, your home is cluttered with boxes and pieces of the crib and a dismantled bassinet and bottles and boxes of diapers and wipes. Your baby shower was a huge success. You and baby boy want for nothing. But you’re big, you’re stressed, you’re aching and you can’t stop crying.

“Baby, let us put the nursery together for you,” you mom suggests.

“No. No, we’ll do it. It’s fine. I want to do it.”

“Okay. Speaking of, is your baby daddy gonna be here any time soon?”

“Yeah, he’s on the way.”

And as if on queue, Matthew walks in and everyone exclaims, “Hey! Baby daddy!”

Your sibling walks up to him immediately and says, “Love Criminal Minds, dude,” and you put your face in your hands.

Matthew gets everything stuffed into the nursery just for now so there’s more space for everyone to move around. He helps your mom with dinner and he doesn’t mind when they poke and prode into his life.

“So, baby daddy, what part of New York are you in?”

“So, baby daddy, is this your first kid?”

“So, baby daddy, do you think you might propose to [y/n] someday?”

“Baby daddy, what’s your net worth?”

And this is not an exaggeration. By the end of the night, he responds to baby daddy like it’s his actual government name and he confesses to you that it makes him uncomfortable.

Standing on your balcony, he wraps a blanket around you and rubs your shoulders, “Y’know, I understand the terminology, definitely. But…damn.”

You cackle, “Well..you are my baby daddy. We’re having a baby together, but were not together, but we have sex sometimes. It fits. Hey, I’m your baby mama!”

“Aw, well…” he sighs. “Thats sweet.” And he grins at you as you burst into laughter.

Your family leaves to stay at a hotel and Matthew stays to make sure you’re okay. You’re pretty fucking exhausted to be honest. So he tucks you into bed and runs his hand over your hair, “You need anything?”

“No. Just sleep.”

“Okay,” he touches your belly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

When you wake up in the morning, your first thought is that you need to eat. You remember some sugar cookies that your mom had brought by last night and you decide to have them for breakfast. You walk to the kitchen and passing by the nursery, you almost don’t notice. Then, you stop in your tracks, tilt your head and walk backwards.

It’s done.

It’s done!

The crib is built, the dresser and changing table are assembled, the mobile’s up and running, the rocking chair is in the corner. Even the wall art you picked out is hanging up.

“Wh-what…” you stutter and then you march to the living room where Matthew is passed out on the couch. “Matthew!” you shout. Still, he doesn’t wake. So you rush over and shake him, going, “Matthew! Matthew!” and he jolts awake.

“What?” he takes hold of your hands. “What? Are you okay? Are you alright?”

“Yes. What…what the hell did you do?”

“What do you mean?” he rasps. “Oh…the nursery? Do you like it?”

“Do I…” you cut yourself off and run back to the nursery, where you wander around the room unable to focus your attention on just one thing.

Matthew follows behind you and watches you from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well?”

“It’s…” you gleam. “Exactly like my pinterest board.”

“Of course it’s exactly like your pinterest board, I’m not insane!” he laughs.

You feel this peace wash over you and you hug your baby bump as you breathe out a slow exhale. You turn to him with a smile and he thinks you’re running to give him a hug. So when you all but tackle him, take him a kiss, push him to the floor, tear off his clothes, it all happens so fast.

When it’s over, you have no bottoms on and your head is laying on his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I should probably stop attacking you like that.”

He chuckles, “No. Don’t. I don’t mind.”

January | 30 Weeks

Your appointments are every two weeks now. This is the time you expected Matthew to miss at least one, but he never does. He’s always there. Even when he’s not with you, he’s always there.

When your insomnia is at its very worst, he facetimes you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” he smiles at the screen. “I knew you’d be up.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Insomnia still kicking your ass?”

“Every night this past week.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, honey,” he frowns. “But since you’re up, I thought we could talk baby names?”

“Oh,” you say. You had forgotten about that. “Oh…right…names.”

“I know, we kinda dropped the ball on that one,” he laughs. “Now, it’s kinda a Gubler tradition that all the boys have the middle name Gray. Y’know, alliteration and all.”

“Oh..that’s…” Boring, you think. “Unoriginal. Can we compromise?”

“Well, I’m already compromising with the hypenating so I don’t know.”

“Oh, good g-“ you roll your eyes. “Sir, you hyphenated like 7 months ago, let it go.” And he lets it go. You add, “I like the name Lincoln. Link.”

“Ooh, no. He used to bully me in school. What about Silas?”

“Yeah, cause he’s a vampire? Veto. I like Noah.”

“Cause he’s building an arc? Veto!”

“Ugh.”

“What about Simon? Y’know I voiced him in the movie.”

You roll your eyes, again. “Yes. We know. Veto.”

Silence falls over the call as you both rack your brains for another suggestion. And like a domino, it naturally falls into your mind, “Theodore?” you shrug.

Matthew smiles, “Teddy?”

“Aw!” you squeal. “Teddy Gray…” you say aloud and then a tear falls from your eye and then you’re full blown sobbing in front of the camera. “Teddy Gray, that’s it. That’s his name.”

And Matthew is freaked out because he’s never seen you cry before. Ever. Not at the doctor, not in the nursery, he’s never had the pleasure of meeting your hormones face to face quite like this. “Yeah…” he chokes out a sob. “That’s it,” he wipes his eyes. “Fuck, why am I crying?”

“Oh, why would you be, you fucking freak?” you shout and he thinks it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said.

Suddenly, your doorbell rings and it silences you, scares you. “What the fuck?” you whisper. “Is that you?”

“Nope. I had something delivered.”

“What? Right now?”

“Just a little cinnamon roll and a milkshake, but I can tell them to leave if you don’t want it?”

“Oh, my god,” you rush out of bed and immediately waddle to the door, “You’re amazing. I wanna have your baby.”

February | 34 Weeks

Your customized pillows and blankets have come in the mail. They all say Teddy and his baby book says it too. It is perfect. It’s your son. At your last appointment, he weighed about 7 pounds and you certainly feel every ounce weighing you down.

But for Teddy, it’s worth it.

For now, you’re still going to work and taking an afternoon nap for survival. Matthew jokes all the time that you can quit your job whenever you’d like. That he can take care of you both, just say the word. That was never the deal, but you appreciate it.

When you arrive home on Valentine’s Day, you’re just getting settled when your doorbell rings. You look through the peep hole and the delivery man is holding the largest vase of roses you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he greets you. “[y/n] [y/l/n]?”

“Yes,” you nod and take the roses in your arms. “Thank you.”

He hands you a tiny bag and you carry everything inside, setting them down on the table.

“One more thing,” he tells you and when you turn around, it is a teeny, tiny vase of snipped roses. The vase is personalized with the name Teddy.

“Aw,” you want to cry but you can’t do it in front of this random man. So only when he leaves, you let the tears fall and you set Teddy’s vase near in the window in his room. You leave your flowers on the living room table and take a small jewelry box out of the bag. Inside, are the most gorgeous pair of ruby pendant earrings and you audibly gasp.

The card accompanying it all reads: Sorry I can’t be with you and Teddy today, but I’m thinking about you both. I’m always thinking about you.

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby mama!!

M

March | 37 Weeks

“Any day now, [y/n],” your doctor beams, rolling the wand around on your belly. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you nod. “Excited. Scared. I didn’t give it much thought about how I was gonna get him out of there.”

Her and Matthew laugh, Matthew holding your hand like it’s No Big Deal.

“You’re gonna do great. You’re right on track for your due date, but it’s possible you’ll start feeling some contractions in the next week or two. If you notice them coming really close together or your water breaks, I want you to put that birthing plan in motion, okay?”

“Okay,” you and Matthew say in unison. It would’ve annoyed you before. Now you just smile at him because you think it’s cute.

Matthew escorts you back home and he’s hoping you’ll settle in and maybe rest. You don’t. You end up in the nursery, walking around like maniac. There is absolutely nothing to do. Nothing to move. Nothing to fix. Still, your brain tells you there must be something.

“Honey, honey,” he calls, taking you by the hand and guiding you to the couch. “Come lay down, please. Everything is all set.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he laughs. “You’re just nesting, I read about it online.”

“Oh, you and your baby google.”

“There really is so much out there!”

You roll your eyes, smiling as he covers you with a blanket. “You still going to Vegas this weekend? For your birthday?”

“Oh, no. No, I think I’m just gonna stay in New York.”

“What? Why? I thought your mom was planning a whole thing for you? You can’t miss it.”

“Well, I don’t wanna miss Teddy coming either. I don’t wanna leave you alone like that. The doctor said any day now.”

“Yeah, but, she also said it could be well over another week before I start contracting.”

He sighs, visibly anxious.

“Hey, look,” you pull him into your arms. “I appreciate you wanting to be here, I really do, but I want you to enjoy your birthday and I highly, highly doubt this kid is planning on escaping any time soon. Plus, my friend will be here if anything happens so, just, go, baby daddy, we’ll be fine.”

He sighs, “Fine. But you’ll call me if anything happens?”

“I will call you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately!”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

March 9 | 37 Weeks and 6 Days

The eve of Matthew’s birthday, you get roughly four hours of sleep. You rise with the sun and sit in Teddy’s room, folding his clothes, piling them in his dresser.

You friend wanders in, having just woken up herself and she sighs, “What the hell are you doing, crazy lady?”

“Nothing.”

“This nursery looks like it’s straight out of Architectural Digest. There’s nothing else to do, why don’t you go lay down?”

“Why is everyone always wanting me to lay down?”

“Because you’re carrying a human maybe? Duh?”

“I’m fine. I feel fine. I need to check on the bottles and make sure I have the right sized nipples because I’m not sure…”

“[y/n], you have all the nipples in the world. The ones, the twos, the threes, the ones on your tits. It’s fine!”

“I’m just checking!” And as you step towards the kitchen, you suddenly stop in your tracks, grab onto your crotch in shock.

“[y/n]?” you friend rushes to your side. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I…I, um, I think I just pissed myself?”

“Wh-what? Pissed yourself or did your water break?”

You look up at her in fear, “Oh my god.”

“I’ll get the hospital bag.”

“Oh my god.”

“Get some pants and shoes on, dude!”

“Oh my god,” you repeat. “I-I have to call Matthew.”

So you do. You do. Just in the knick of fucking time, your name pops up on his phone and he quickly grabs his luggage and sprints off the plane that was doomed to take off any second.

When he arrives at the hospital, he bursts into the room at full speed, thinking he’s already missed everything. Thinking it’s over. He finds you bouncing on a birthing ball and you grin at him.

“Hi, baby daddy!” you huff. “Happy birthday!”

“Hi! Hi…” he walks up to you, takes your hands in his although you do not stop bouncing. He kisses the top of your head, “Are you okay? How far along are you?”

“Three centimeters,” you pant. “And I am not getting off of this ball until it’s 10!”

“Okay, well, you have to take a break at some point. Do you need some water?”

“Nope! Just need to bounce.”

You last, maybe, five more minutes and then you need to lay down. Except you can’t. Because your contractions are ridiculous and you can never get comfortable and you end up on all fours in the bed, crying and groaning.

And three hours later, you are only 5 centimeters dilated.

Matthew lays in the bed beside you, patting your face with a rag, feeling absolutely useless. “What can I do, [y/n]? Tell me what to do.”

You cry and squeeze his hand until this contraction passes. You pant, “Y-y’know…I’ve heard sometimes…when a baby won’t come out…p-people….sometimes…”

“What? What do they do?”

“They…y’know…”

He is still confused.

“Like!” you shout in frustration. “Like, what gets the baby in also gets the baby out!”

It clicks, “Oh!” he exclaims. “Oh. Will that…will that hurt him?”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. “But he’ll sure as shit get the message.”

And so, two fingers, ten minutes and six big pushes later, Theodore Gray [y/l/n]-Gubler is born. He weighs eight pounds, five ounces but he feels so heavy in your arms.

Finally in your arms.

Matthew, like a big baby himself, can’t stop crying. Can’t stop looking at him. Can’t stop kissing your face, “Look at him! He’s beautiful! You did it! Oh, my god, [y/n]! Look what you did!”

Teddy is truly the best birthday gift Matthew has ever gotten.

Two days later, you’re discharged from the hospital. Matthew arranged for a car to drive you home and he installs the car seat himself. He pushes you out in a wheelchair, despite your frequent protests, and gets Teddy buckled in. He then helps you and into the car before sliding in on the opposite side of the car seat.

You cover Teddy with his blanket and touch your fingertips to his face. He’s fast asleep, but this little grin forms on his face and the two of you chuckle.

“Hey,” you coo to him. “Hey, mister man, what are you doing? Huh? You…really don’t look a thing like me.”

Matthew cackles, “Yeah. Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus.”

He follows behind you with the car seat as you unlock your front door and lead them inside.

“Should we…I mean, do we just let him sleep?” he asks you.

“Until he’s hungry, yeah,” you nod, taking Teddy from his carrier. “Oh, hi…” you whisper to him. “Hi, mister man, you wanna lay in your bed? Hm?”

You place him in his crib and he doesn’t make a sound. Doesn’t make a move. Matthew plops down on the floor, legs crisscrossed and you sit right beside him.

“He’s so fucking cool,” he tells you.

You giggle, “The coolest.”

The two of you could stare at him all day. You will.

“Is it still okay if spend the night?” he asks.

You look up at him with a smile, “Yes, we’d like that very much,” and you put your head on his shoulder.

His kisses your forehead softly, saying, “Cool.”

[imaginesbymonika]

Crush

Part 1 out of ???

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Plot: There is nothing quite like realizing you're in love with your best friend when it's too late right?

Warnings: mentions of death, angst, will there be fluff in the future?? idk, find out 😏

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Locate the Unsub, take him down, and then be at home at around nine. This wasn't supposed to happen. Or at least not in this way. After all, Y/N had always understood that she would probably die in this kind of way. Obviously, it wasn't ideal but then again this job wasn't one to make compromises. Was this a strange thing to say about her own death? She has no idea.

Her gaze lingers on the ceiling above her, and the young woman can't help but attempt to count the small cracks in the stone. Someone was calling her name, but it was so far away that for a second she didn't even believe that it was real.

People always ask her 'what is it like to…', you know, get shot, or get run over by a getaway car. And she never knew what to say, and maybe that's the only right response. Maybe some things aren't supposed to feel like other things.

"Y/N!", Spencer calls out again, and usually she would make fun of his little voice cracks. A frail chuckle escapes her lips. She doesn't know where the pain in her body is located, it seems to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time, but she knows that she loves to make fun of Spencer.

Y/N slowly turns her head in his direction, god, everything is suddenly so blurry. It takes her a few seconds, but once her eyes manage to focus on him a gentle smile forms on her lips.

"Spence.", she whispers. Her beautiful boy. So many people have said that he looks like a model. Someone straight out of Vogue or Elle, but to her, he simply looks like…Spencer. She doesn't think that he is supposed to be compared to anything, after all, nothing could truly correspond. How can someone be so handsome? Maybe, just maybe if she had more time she would ask him. But for now, she's happy that she can take one final look at him.

The world around her turns dark and she exhales one final time.

[blackdollette]

"you act like a kid even though you stand 6'2." | s. reid

norman fucking rockwell! - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: it was a leap in the dark, with spencer trembling right behind you...

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords @hiireadstuff

⊹₊⋆ pairing: bau!female!reader x subby!spencer

⊹₊⋆ word count: 551

⊹₊⋆ contents: a little fluffy, spencer opening up to you

thunder clapped, sending a booming crescendo through the sky as electric lightning tore through the night’s black canvas.

you brought your fist to the mountainous wooden door of the supposedly abandoned manor, banging on it roughly. 

“fbi!” you yelled once, receiving nothing but silence in response to your call, along with the piercing echo that cut through the noise of the storm.

you turned, looking behind you. “alright, spence. it’s clear. let’s head in.” 

with his clammy palms keeping a shaky grip on his gun, he croaked out a feeble protest. “d-do we really have to go in there? i think that we can confidently conclude that it’s empty.”

there was nothing confident about the way he could barely tie together a string of words.

“all evidence that you came up with points to this place. we’ll just do a quick search and get out of here in no time.” with an almost effortless turn of the handle, the door creaked open with a sinister squeal. “we can even split up to cover more ground quicker if you want.”

you flicked on your flashlight, slowly making your way into the pitch-black house with spencer scurrying behind you, nearly tripping on his shoe. 

“everything okay back there?” you turned around, shining your light on him.

he was pale as a ghost, his neck specked with goosebumps as his eyes darted around the darkness, his pupils contracted in fear.

he cleared his throat, his voice coming out hoarse and suppressed. 

“w-would… would it b-be alright if i just waited outside…? i-i… i just…” his disposition had gone from slightly anxious to borderline panic, his hands trembling frantically as he sealed his eyes shut.

“hey, spencer…” you dropped your voice to a whisper, approaching him slowly. you hadn’t noticed the unfiltered, raw fear in his eyes until now, like he was about to run mad. you cautiously took his hand into yours, massaging slow circles onto his protruding veins with your thumb, dimming the flashlight slightly.

“what’s going on with you..?” you brought a gentle hand to his face, stroking his cheek and leading him against the wall, letting him lean against it. 

he panted quietly, his gaze not meeting yours. tiny beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, fluffy tufts of hair scattered across his face. you didn’t want to rush him to speak. you just wanted to know what was wrong.

he swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair as he finally brought himself to look at you. “have i… ever told you that i’m afraid of the dark..?” his voice was laced with guilt, like he was confessing to a horrific crime. 

you tried to mask your surprised but your eyes began to widen. “no… you haven’t mentioned it…”

he angled his head downward, the paleness in his cheeks being replaced with an embarrassed blush. you sighed deeply, giving him a pat on the chest. “c’mon, spence. we’ve got a job to do.”

he nodded, but the fearful look quickly returned in his eyes. 

you slipped your gun out from your belt, keeping a safe grip on it. “stay behind me. nothing’s gonna hurt you, alright? i swear it.”

he sheepishly snaked his arm around your waist, clinging onto you like you were his lifeline. 

“it’s all gonna be okay…”

author's note:

[gubler-world]

Coming October 2024.

intro.

October 1st: Indoor decorating.

October 2ed: Outdoor Decorating.

October 3rd: Going to the pumpkin patch.

October 4th: Pumpkin carving.

October 5th: Displaying our pumpkins.

October 6th:  The craft store.

October 7th: Making Halloween decorations.

October 8th: Haunted House.

October 9th: The candy store.

October 10th: Apple orchard.

October 11th: caramel Apples

October 12th: Pumpkin pie.

October 13th: The Halloween store.

October 14th: Halloween Cookies

October 15th: Haunted House Day 2

October 16th:  Fun in the fall leaves.

October 17th: a sweet surprise

October 18th: Spooky Fiesta

October 19th: Fall Festival

October 20th: hayride

October 21st: rainy day Movie Day

October 22nd: Halloween Carnival

October 23rd: costume store

October 24th: title to be announced

October 25th: title to be announced

October 26th: title to be announced

October 27th: gourmet popcorn store

October 28th, Scary Movie Day

October 29th title to be announced

October 30th: Halloween Eve at the cinema.

October 31st: Halloween.

More titles coming soon.

[mggsv]

Purple Converse

gn!reader x mgg (fluff)

summary: the first time you saw him was on a Tuesday- your first day. he came into the store smiling despite it being so early in the morning..

warnings: none !

“Excuse me, do you guys have this in a size 11?” You knew that voice, it was Matthew (or so his rewards account said). He held a box up of a purple converse shoe with a small awaiting smile. You smiled back of course, it was your job after all, but one from Matthew was surely contagious.

“Let me check, yeah? I’m sure we do, though.” you chuckle. He nodded, pursing his lips as you took the box.

You leave him be to go to the back of your post. You’ve worked at this shoe store for nearly a year, and you haven’t seen anyone walk in there almost regularly as Matthew. When you first met it had been your first day when he strode in all tall. In fact, he was the first customer to arrive- early in the morning when the store opened. He seemed to be in a hurry as the converse on his feet were about to fall apart. They were red and tied in a way you’ve seen before. With every step you could see the outline of two completely different socks on his feet. What a weirdo, you had thought.

All you could see was his fluffy hair and glasses over the shelves as he went straight for the isle of converse shoes. More people started to walk in and it made you nervous. Before then, all the other jobs you’d have weren’t exactly working with people face to face. Normally you’d be editing or designing some work online as commissions. Only online work, never in person.

With your eyes trained on the man scanning the isle, your hands nervously fidgeted with the name tag on your shirt. Moments later he was in front of you, tapping on the box lightly. “I’d like to get these please” His voice was soft, professional-like. It made your heart flutter in a bit of a panic.

“Oh! yes of- of course. Will that be all sir?” you cleared your throat feeling it run dry. You avoided eye contact with him, and instead grabbed the box to scan it. They were a high top pair of red converses, size 11.

He hummed before grabbing a pack of shoe laces from a rack on the counter. “These too, thank you.”

“Of course” you whispered. After scanning his items and placing them into the store bag. “Do you have a number or an account with us?” You say the words slowly and carefully, the practice you’ve done the night before seemed to vanish. “You can earn points and discounts.” you smile. He nods and leans in very closely- shocking you.

“I’m sorry for the lack of space, i didn’t want anyone else hearing my number out loud.” he giggles before calling out the numbers to you. You nod and pull back slowly to type it into the computer. The name “Matthew Gubler” pops up.

“Well, Matthew, you have a discount for $20 off, do you want to use it today?” You watch him pull out his wallet while shaking his head. “Not today!” he hands you the money and does a little bow before taking off.

“Wait your change-“

“Keep it! See you next time.”

And you did see him next time. It was a week later when he was coming in to get another pair of converse- low top and green. They didn’t have them in stores so he got them ordered and sent to the store for pickup.

When he came in he was all smiles again, this time wearing sunglasses. The store was crowdy. By now you were used to work the register and such so it wasn’t much of a hassle. It was only when that head of hair was in your view and Matthew’s beautiful smile loomed over you that you felt a little nervous. “Hey there Matthew. You..have an order actually.” You click your tongue to pull up his account in the computer.

“That I do. How’s your day going…Y/N?” he reads your name tag.

“Busy much. You?”

“Same here. I’m actually on my way out of town in a few hours for work. Wanted to get my shoes first.” he laughs. You smile and nod, holding up a finger to go and grab the perfectly wrapped box of converse.

“You know, i’ve only ever seen you wear these- or pick them up. How many pairs of converse does one man need huh?” You attempted at joking. Matthew laughed however, taking the box from your hands. “You can’t never have too many. They’re also very comfortable.”

“And the socks?” you pressed, “You’re a bit strange you know?” You check off his order, watching the line pileup behind him.

“I’ll tell you another time, how about that?”

And he did, and your relationship with Matthew started. You anticipated his arrival to the store you worked at. It made you happier. He had told you many things from your small meetings at the counter- what he did job wise, acting (which got you hooked on the show he acted in), painting, directing, being an author too- and a model? You were shocked really, how someone so energetic did so much and still had the time to buy shoes in store whenever he wanted.

You told him about yourself as well, how you’re also somewhat of an artist, and your small hobbies of crafting. You told a lot- from your favorite foods to your favorite style of clothing (his style of course). When you didn’t work you found yourself sitting with Matthew as he tried on sweaters from a thrift store not far from your apartment. If you weren’t thrifting, it was painting pottery with Matthew when he wasn’t working and free, being sure to grab food afterwards and hanging out.

He become an amazing friend to have. You even sat and watched the show he was in together (him laughing while you tried to piece together who the unsub was). You grew closer by the months that passed by. And so did Matthew’s converse collection.

He had FINALLY showed you after a month of asking (and him being away because of work). It wasn’t what you expected however- they were all stacked on top of each up messily with the strings hanging out of them, but ready to be worn. You remember telling Matthew he needed to take care of his shoes and no wonder he came in so much. But in that moment he said something..well, crazy.

“I only came in because just sitting there talking to you would’ve made me look suspicious and kept you from work. I’ve donated lots of these shoes, i wear them, yes, but they don’t last forever.”

The thought made you chuckle to yourself as you reached up and grabbed the size 11 box of purple converse, Matthew’s name written on it from you personally just for the occasion. When you came back to the front he was tracing a picture framed at your station of you two hugging.

“Will this be all?” you held out the box. He straightened up and smiled,

“For now?” he leans in and pecks your lips, “Yeah.”

[heartbreakgrill]

1989 (Heartbreak Grill’s Version)

Countdown to 1989 (Taylor’s Version) with me! I will be writing 6 song blurbs based off of my top 6 1989 tracks. This will hopefully all be finished by October 27th, 2023, when 1989(TV) will finally be released. Enjoy!

How You Get the Girl: Calum Hood

“remind me how it used to be.”

Out of the Woods: Theo Raeken

“we were in screaming color.”

Wildest Dreams: Kol Mikaelson

unpublished.

This Love: Stiles Stilinski

unpublished.

You Are In Love: Matthew Gray Gubler

unpublished.

Style: Pedro Pascal

“it’s a new soundtrack. i could dance to this beat forevermore.”