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#kind of sad it’s not eli but !!!!
aidenelsa · 10 months
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best part of the entire book
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tarisilmarwen · 1 year
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"Thrawn only joined the Empire to help the Chiss!"
Okay sure but have any of you bothered to self-examine why Thrawn chose to join the Empire instead of, say, the Republic, when that was still around? Or why he didn't chose to throw in with the Rebellion, put his tactical mind to use helping them overthrow the Empire quicker?
Could it be... perhaps... that maybe he values the Empire's military strength... more than he cares about the authoritarian tyranny with which it oppresses its own people?
Is it possible that he thinks the Empire's main problem is that it isn't effective enough, too much politicking getting in the way of sound strategy, but if he's around (and in charge) he can guide things so that those annoying little wrinkles (AKA the pockets of discontent and rebellion and fully justified anger at their rights and freedoms being trampled on) are all smoothed out and the overall Imperial machine is better, more in control of its assets, a stronger more unified bulwark against the outergalactic threat of the Grysk or the Vong or whatever.
Is it perhaps just a bit self-centered of him to only care about the Empire's ability to service his own goals and desires and be apathetic (at best) to the way it makes people suffer daily under its inherent systems? The Twi'leks and Wookies being constantly kidnapped and sold into slavery? The careless industrialization of arboreal worlds? The socialization and absorption of all private industry, forcing everyone to work through and with the Empire if they want to work at all? The systematic persecution of anyone remotely Force Sensitive? Is it not the mark of some kind of soul rot to be aware of all of that and go, "Yeah, but I don't care, they have the bigger guns, which is what I need."?
Maybe... just maybe... Thrawn has some Machiavellian tendencies and opinions and maybe this just might... make him not entirely a good person?
And maybe y'all should think about that before you come back and whine about his portrayal as a villain, as if all he has to do is explain to people that he did everything for a good reason and he gets an automatic narrative pardon for all of the shit he did while Grand Admiral that still needs to be addressed and answered for.
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luneariann · 1 year
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I get all excited whenever you post your art, it's absolutely wonderful every time <3 not an ask, just really wanted to tell you that your art is awesome LOL
Stop omg im so happy to hear that?? 😭💕💕 like this genuinely made my whole day im
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zephyr-draws · 1 year
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leigh and jonah college au doodles because i am delusional
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caramelmochacrow · 6 months
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I finally watched the first. Five???? Or four episodes of sunshine and . I'm so afraid of Mari, how did they make a girl scarier than nozomi....
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retrogradedreaming · 2 years
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Maybe an unpopular opinion, but if I tell you I have to cancel plans because of my chronic illness, I do not want to hear that you’re frustrated or upset by it. I promise you that I am more frustrated and upset by having a body that won’t let me follow through with those plans.
You can BE frustrated and upset. Those are normal and valid feelings. But if someone says they can’t do something because of their illness and you center your own feelings by telling them how frustrated you are about it, you’re being insensitive and you need to grow some empathy.
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sysig · 2 years
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Strong look, minor details ✨ (Patreon)
#Doodles#Don't mind me just Sad lol#Actually - related kind of lol - my sad moods have been fairly sparse lately :D#Like it was definitely bad while I was sick I was miserable for a lot of reasons#But up to that point and now that I've improved I've been pretty good :)#Which has been really nice honestly#What Hasn't been nice tho! Lol#Is that it's been since October that I've been able to sleep in my hammock#My poor everything hhh ;; My back and my skin and my lungs and my quality of sleep#I miss the lad so much I will be so happy to paint the walls and install the carpet and throw it directly into the room#I don't even care if I get sealegs again it will be worth it#Sleeping in my hammock will fix me lol#The rest is just enjoying the little peach fuzz I've got lol ♪ I've never considered drawing my sona with facial hair before#Mostly 'cause irl it's a) fairly sparse and b) it's the same colour as my eyebrows which even as bushy as they are still fade into my face#Light-coloured! Blonde face red hair! Lol#I joked ages and ages ago that if I was covered in fur that it'd make a funny pattern in the colours haha#Decided to try it out on the he/they sonas as well - I think it suits them!#Will would probably try to keep clean-shaven in court but I think Caden would grow it out as long as it didn't look silly haha#I like Will's outfit there too haha casual and cute ♪#And finally Eli! They'd also keep a tidy appearance but that was more inspired by brushing my hair while wet lol#Still got little whisps that stick out even when the rest are slicked back - mind of its own silliness
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@allvalley100​
Prompt: Shoes
Pairing: Hawkmetri
***
“Seriously? What kind of karate do you wear shoes for?”
Eli glowers, standing in the middle of his backyard with arms crossed and blue hair looking especially pointy.
“Sheesh, sorry!”
Demetri kicks his sneakers onto Eli’s back porch before joining him. His sparring preparations get immediate criticism.
“Okay, first off, your stance is a mess. You’re re-joining Cobra Kai looking like that?”
Demetri tries not to acknowledge his burning cheeks as Eli grabs him with firm, calloused fingers, repositioning his arms. Get a grip.
He reminds himself to take off his shoes when he goes back to Cobra Kai tomorrow.
***
So it’s actually a little funny to me that Demetri knew immediately to take his shoes off when he tried re-joining CK in S2. Like this can mean one of four things: 1) He remembered from the two karate classes he went to several months prior 2) Eli rambles about karate so much that Demetri has learned absolutely everything about it by proxy 3) Demetri specifically has researched everything about karate himself in an attempt to impress Eli or 4) In early S2, Eli harassed Demetri into doing some private sparring/training with him to try to further entice Dem into joining Cobra Kai. Like “hey look! Isn’t karate fun??? Do you want to do a ton more with me in my karate class???”
I wrote a bit about the last one because it’s the most homoerotic akauhdpyg also who are we kidding, S2 Eli would take any possible excuse to do extra karate, even if it involved trying to warm Demetri and His Nerd Shit up to the idea of being punched in the face aksfhsiypg
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anethum-etcetera · 1 year
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kendyzzlewp · 3 months
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The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON
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pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader
summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.
tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol
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“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”
Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.
“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”
His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”
Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”
“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”
Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“
You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.
“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”
You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.
“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”
Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.
“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”
A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.
They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.
“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”
You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”
Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.
Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”
He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Eli.”
Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.
“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”
Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”
“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.
Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”
Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”
The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.
“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.
He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”
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cxrdycxps · 2 months
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Black Box Warning • Ellie Williams
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☢️ toxic reader • toxic Ellie • bad for each other • sad reader • mentions of suicide • alcohol abuse • reader and Ellie are kind of rough with each other • grief ☢️
Main Masterlist • Ellie Williams Masterlist
The more of me you see, the less of me you’ll like.
You fucking hated Jackson. You hated starvation more so obviously you didn’t leave. But Jackson was the worst fucking thing that ever happened to you. It was everything your sister would’ve loved but she was dead in a forest in Virginia and here you were. The lone fucking survivor.
Jackson was full of happy people who laughed and smiled and enjoyed the normal life. Jackson was full of fucking actors. There was still a ravaged earth outside their walls and no dance nights in a run down bar would change that.
You went to them though because it was easier to get over served at the bar when it was crowded. Sometimes you’d actually get drunk before Seth cut you off.
There wasn’t much coming or going from Jackson, not in the six months you had lived there. There was a bit of fanfare when some girl showed up with a baby. She had used to live there and her kid belonged to the dead son of the school teacher.
You hadn’t stuck around to hear much more. You didn’t care. People died every fucking day, no one cared, not really or the world would stop. The world should pause for grief but it doesn’t. Sometimes you take a deep breath and you keep running.
Besides working and drinking, Jackson didn’t offer much in a way that let your exorcise your demons. Not until Ellie Williams returned and a couple of smart comments turned into a busted lip. Then you could taste the blood on her lips. Taste the sweat on her skin, taste her orgasm.
It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even like, not really. You ended up living together for convenience, she needed a room and you liked having access to fuck her when you needed to feel something.
There wasn’t a surface in that house that hadn’t been christened with nail gouging, biting, cursing sex. It was rough and ready and it never really helped. Not really.
A lot of people thought you were a couple. Ellie’s not-uncle Tommy thought it, Ellie’s not-right-now-not aunt Maria thought it, and Ellie’s ex girlfriend thought it. Neither of you corrected anyone. There was no point explaining how you both hurt each other to make yourself feel better.
“You were probably really good at this before you lost those fingers.” You told Ellie offhand and then gasped when her teeth punctured the skin of you bicep. “You’re like a fucking rabid dog, Jesus Christ.”
“Oh fuck off.” Ellie abandoned you across the arm of the sofa and you looked over your shoulder at her.
“You’re seriously going to stop?” You asked her, aghast. She only did that when she was really moody.
“Fuck off.”
You muttered under your breath as you pulled your jeans up. Ellie slammed out the door and you stared at the brown hunters’ jacket she had left behind her. The snow had fallen heavily and she had patrol today.
You had to walk by the stables to get to the watch tower and you pulled on your own jacket before grabbing hers and muttering under your breath. At the last minute you tossed the jacket back on the hook. She had left you hanging. Let her get fucking hypothermia.
You were half way to the stables when you met her doubling back and you weren’t too mature to laugh at her when she rolled her eyes at you. “Could’ve brought it.”
“Could’ve let me cum. Go fuck yourself, Williams.” You pulled your own coat tighter against the frozen drifts. When you arrived at the East gate you found your watch partner and tilted your head back to stare at the sky with a groan. “Not my fucking day.”
“Suck it up. Don’t care about your lovers tiff.” Eli snapped at you and you pictured him with a busted lip and several missing teeth. It helped the annoyance. “First Ellie forgets her fucking jacket and then you’re late and complaining.”
“Cut Ellie some slack.” Dina chided Eli and you chuckled to yourself. Always in her corner even when Ellie had abandoned her and her child. “You know what today is.”
“Oh fuck. It’s Joel’s dead day.” You swore before wincing. You knew it had to be something bad for her to leave you hanging like that. “Shit.”
“You forgot her father’s anniversary.” Dina stared at you, a disgusted look on her face. You looked at her with a shrug and her jaw dropped. “The most traumatic experience of her life and you forgot? You’re her fucking girlfriend.”
“I mean, the most traumatic experience was probably her girlfriend being pregnant. That would fuck with me for sure.” You scoffed and made to climb the scaffolding that climbed the wall.
“God you’re so fucking useless to her.” Dina didn’t let it go, following you closely. You blocked her out, wondering what was the point of patrolling the wall when you could barely see the tree line with the snow. “She needs you to support her.”
“Dina, you’re confusing me with someone who gives a fuck.” You told her, watching as the gates opened and the trail patrol groups set out on horse back. “So some old dude got his head bashed in. I didn’t know him. I don’t care.”
“You’re her girlfriend.” Dina repeated and you shrugged. You wondered if you were her girlfriend. That seemed to be too big of a title for housemates that fucked each other to avoid their grief. Ellie hadn’t remembered your sister’s anniversary. Why should you remember Joel’s?
“Look, you fumbled your chance with her. You came back to Jackson to start again without her. If you want her that bad then have her.” You checked the rifle left in the patrol hut and checked the bullets left for you.
“You’d give her up that easy?” Dina asked, astounded in that very judgmental way she had. You looked up at her, bored with the conversation. “You’d just pass her off?”
“I would and yet you still don’t want her.” You laughed. “That’s kind of telling.”
Dina didn’t say anything and you settled in for a long eight hours, the rickety chair creaked when you took a seat on it, rifle in your lap. You wondered if you could argue the cold had earned you an extra drink or two to warm back up. Sometimes Seth felt bad for you. Most times he just told you to fuck off.
“I didn’t just give her up.” Dina spoke what felt like hours later. You didn’t look away from the snow because you didn’t care enough to let her know you were listening. “She left me and JJ. I didn’t expect her to come back.”
“Is it cause she’s down those two fingers? Because let me tell you, that hand? A complete write off. It does nothing of note.” Dina made a disgusted sound and you laughed, incredulous. “I mean you’ve got a kid, you’re not exactly in place to play the blushing virgin.”
“Do you understand what it’s like to love someone who sees themself as a sacrifice?” You would never tell Dina but you understood. Every time you closed your eyes you saw her face as she made the decision to sacrifice her life so that you’d survive.
She was stupid. Your sister. She had so much more to offer the world than you could’ve ever. You’d spent every day for the last five years torturing yourself for her decision. You, better than anyone, related to Dina. You knew what it was to be left behind.
“I do.” You shrugged turning to face Dina. You didn’t tell her you weren’t talking about Ellie. “But I didn’t abandon her, so I guess that makes me better than you.”
“Or it just makes you more stupid.” Dina argued and you knew she probably had a point. You would never tell her. “Ellie ruined everything we had because of a man who she didn’t even like when he died.”
“Stop talking. Or I’ll throw you off the fucking wall.” You pinched the bridge of you nose to fend off the coming headache. It seemed that you had only encouraged her.
“She hadn’t talked to him in months when he died. She felt bad because she hadn’t liked him.” Dina insisted.
“You’re so fucking stupid. He saved her life. I know you’ve seen her fucking arm. They were gonna cut it out of her brain to maybe try and make a vaccine. He killed the fucking doctor and his daughter killed Joel. That’s how it works. It’s a cycle!” You snapped at Dina who looked shocked, leaning away from you. “She loved Joel, she just couldn’t understand his reasoning for choosing her over the rest of the world. He loved her more than the world. You don’t turn into what we are over someone you don’t fucking love.”
“I don’t know-”
“It’s a twenty foot drop. I will make JJ an orphan.”
///
“You sort it out with Dina or you tell her to fuck off.” You didn’t give Ellie a second to even get in the door, finger digging into her chest. “I had to her spend eight hours with her stupid commentary on how I should treat you better.”
“Tell her yourself. I don’t fucking care.” Ellie kicked her converse off and dropped her bag, shrugging by you. “Anything to eat?”
“Do I look like a fucking house wife?” You asked her with a scoff and she rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. “Head on over to Dina’s, I’m sure she’ll make you something.”
“Stop with the fucking Dina rhetoric, I’m here, ain’t I?” Ellie slammed her hand down on the table in the kitchen and you laughed coldly.
“Should I be glad? Am I winning by eating off a plate that Dina licked clean?” Ellie narrowed her eyes at you and then your head hit the wall. Her hand was around your neck and you let your eyes shut slowly. “Finish what you started.”
“Jesus, you’re such a needy fucking bitch. Picking a fight because I didn’t let you cum this morning. You got fingers, don’t ya?” She asked, her free hand unbuttoning your jeans. She didn’t pull them down, just slipped her hand inside and laughed cruelly. “You been this wet all day or does my hand around your neck really do it for you?”
“Like three fifths of a hand.” You gasped and she squeezed tighter around your neck and pinched your clit cruelly. You would’ve been embarrassed with how much this was working for you if you cared at all what Ellie thought of you. Instead you ground against her hand as she pumped two fingers into you. You shuddered against her when you came and let her push you to your knees.
There was no smart comments when she shucked her jeans and boxers, pushing you forward by a grip on your hair. You didn’t bother to tease, paying extra attention to her clit, just how she liked it. She held you in place while she came and you stayed without complaint while she spasmed around your tongue. “At least you’re good for something.”
“Oh fuck off, Ellie.” You sighed and pushed yourself to stand up. You didn’t give her any further attention and moved for the shower, knowing she would bang on the door as soon as she realized. She preferred showering when she got home.
She got her revenge on you later that night. Hoarse screams came from the next room. Shouts of Joel’s name along with pitiful cries had you shoving your blankets down and making your way into her room.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She was shivering in the cold and you watched her for a second. “Get out.”
“You’ve woken me twice already.” You told her, leaning on the door frame. She still didn’t look up and you realized she wasn’t shivering. She was crying. “Can’t save them all.”
She had said that to you once, when your told her about your sister. You had punched her and then fucked her for it. She didn’t even react to the words and you stepped into the room. “Get back into bed.”
“Fuck off.” She did as she was told and you slipped in beside her. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Shut up and turn around.” She faced the wall, her back to you and you pressed up against her, an arm around her middle. “It’s too cold to sleep alone tonight.”
///
Ellie was always awkward the day after you shared a bed. It didn’t happen often, it was never planned, and you preferred to pretend it didn’t happen.
“Hey,” Ellie spoke quietly from the kitchen doorway. You didn’t look up, letting your tea steep. “I’m sorry about last night. Yesterday was-”
“Joel’s death day. I know.” She paused in place and you finally looked over to watch her consider your words. “Dina reminded me.”
“Oh. Okay. Well I’m sorry for waking you anyway.” She mumbled and you shrugged. “And thank you.”
“I had to get to sleep at some point.” You told her blandly, turning back to your tea and removing the leaves. “Was the only solution.”
“Jesus, do you have a fucking off button for that attitude. Every time we do anything that might show this is more than fucking you shut down.” You laughed and turned to face Ellie.
“More than fucking? I’m just a hole and a mouth that you use to get yourself off. You are no different for me. If you want emotions go somewhere else.” You told her and she rolled her eyes.
“Imagine your sister sacrificing her whole life for you to end up this bitter fucking shell of a person.” Ellie laughed bitterly. “What a fucking way to honor her.”
“Oh, so that’s how you’re feeling this morning?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “Atleast I didn’t walk out on my girlfriend and kid to trek across the country and avenge my father just to let his killer go at the last second.”
“Your obsession with Dina is bordering on a mental illness.” Ellie accused and you shrugged, sipping at your tea. “She’s into women, you might have a chance.”
“Yeah? So she can turn me into whatever the fuck sort of lap dog she made you? I’ll pass.” You kissed your teeth when Ellie stepped closer. “You act all high and mighty but I know you got down on your knees and begged her to take you back and she said no.”
Ellie clenched her fists and you braced yourself for impact but she only shook her head, turning on her heel and slamming out the door. You stared at the brown hunting jacket for the second day in a row.
You would’ve brought it this time but that wasn’t very ‘bitter shell of a person’ of you.
///
Seth was distracted this evening. He had served you nearly double what he usually did. You let the music drown out your thoughts and sipped at your whiskey. You were bordering on what could be considered tipsy. Your toe was tapping along to the music and it could actually be described as a pleasant evening.
Of course, you never got that kind of peace for long. You weren’t overly polite when a grating voice started somewhere to your left. You ran a hand down your face and tried to ignore it. Everyone else was able to go on with their day and you needed just one good one.
You could have a few more drinks, if Seth was amenable, wait for Ellie to finish her night with Tommy and then get throughly fucked when you got home with Ellie’s hand around your neck and her filthy words in your ears.
“I’m beginning to think you two don’t even like each other.” Nope. There it went. Your pleasant buzz, your nice evening. With just two seconds and a handful of words, Dina had ruined it all.
You ignored her, sipping from your drink again. She didn’t like that and pushed in on your side and took the stool next to yours. You let your head tip back and huffed out a breath. “You never sit near each other in public. Any interaction the pair of you have is openly hostile.”
“Dina, I have worked by your side for four days this week, that’s thirty two whole hours I had to listen to your opinions. I don’t care. Now fuck off.” You told her, tracing your index finger around the rim of your glass. Your pleasant buzz was long gone and now the drink was fueling your anger, riling you up quickly.
“Why bother pretending?” Dina asked and you looked up. Your eyes caught Ellie’s first. She was watching you, half out of her seat. You turned away from her to look at Dina.
“Pretending what?” You asked her with a laugh. “We live together. We fuck. That’s all there is to it.”
“Except every time you looked at her tonight you got this serene little smile on your lips. Why are you pretending you don’t feel anything for her?” Dina asked and you blinked at her.
“Why are you pretending you aren’t mad at her for getting Jesse killed and then passing up the opportunity to kill the one who killed him?” You asked and stood from your stool, downing the last of your whiskey.
You were almost two steps away when a hand gripped your arm. Ellie almost barreled into you in her rush to get Dina’s grip off you. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
Ellie stood in your way to get to Dina and you shook your hands out, keeping your mouth shut now that people were watching. “She doesn’t like that.”
“Time you get on out of here.” Seth spoke from behind the bar.
“Time you stopped over serving her.” Ellie snapped at him, still staring at Dina. Seth only sighed and shook his head.
“It’s her sisters anniversary.” Seth spoke quietly and Ellie laughed bitterly.
“That’s in June. Stop fucking enabling her.” Ellie turned away from Dina and Seth and grabbed your hand in hers and dragged you from the bar. “Is it too much to ask for one nice night?”
You pulled your hand free and crossed your arms. You shouldn’t have to explain yourself to her. You always felt like a child when you did. “It wasn’t-”
“I’m not blaming you. That was all her.” Ellie assured you and you nodded. You stumbled a little, more than tipsy now the air hit you. Ellie’s hand shot out to catch you and you fell against her. “Let’s get you home.”
“Birthday. It’s her birthday.” Ellie paused in place and let you lean against her. She wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against her. “I was trying to have a nice day. Was just enjoying my evening.”
“I know. I was watching you.” Ellie didn’t say anything else but she did urge you to start moving again. You leaned against her and she kept an arm wrapped around you. When you got home she let you go and you wrapped your arms around yourself and made your way to the sofa. “You want a glass of water?”
You didn’t answer Ellie, tipping yourself to the side and pressing your face into the sofa cushions.
///
You woke on the sofa, your head tilted to the side and a blanket tossed over you. Ellie had put a bucket on the ground too. You weren’t the kind of person to puke while drinking but she was so you could understand it.
It was still dark and you were fucking freezing. Your teeth chattered and you shuffled up to your room, changing your clothes quickly and staring at your empty bed. Ellie’s would be warm. Ellie would be warm.
She blinked at you from under her blanket when you cracked her door open. She had left her lamp on and you wondered if it was just in case you came in. She didn’t say anything but she shuffled over and lifted her blanket. You took the offered place, pressing your face into her neck when she wrapped her arms and the blanket around you.
“Thank you.” She only hummed, her hand sliding under your top to softly stroke the skin of your back. It didn’t take her long to drift back off to sleep and you watched her in the low light from the lamp.
You wondered if you could ever be what Ellie needed. You knew she needed to heal, she needed to be forgiven for her imagined sins. You weren’t sure you had that in you. You still hadn’t forgiven your sixteen year old self for letting your sister die.
You had spent every single day since punishing yourself for her death. She was your age now when she died and you wondered if you would ever make that decision?
If you would’ve sacrificed yourself to save her?
You weren’t sure you’d ever done anything that didn’t serve yourself first.
///
“I should’ve fucking known that pairing you up would’ve resulted in this.” Eli sighed when you arrived to the stables without Ellie. “Where is she?”
“Fucked if I know.” You told him honestly. Ellie had been off with you since that night in the bar over a month ago. She disappeared for hours at a time and you hadn’t bothered to ask where she was going to escape you.
“I’m here.” She left the stables with Shimmer and Henry in tow, both of your preferred horses. Ellie shared a look with you but you had nothing to add so you just took Henry’s reins and boosted yourself up onto the horse.
You and Ellie had patrolled together a number of times. It was how you had both first met, back when she had just arrived back in Jackson. It had resulted in some of the best sex of your life.
There wasn’t much discussion between you both, mutters about directions and when to stop and take a break. You usually let Ellie make the decisions because she was outside the wall more often than you were.
She was distracted today though. She had missed two turns and an outpost that needed to be signed. You called her attention quietly the first two times and by the outpost your very limited patience was gone.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Will you pay attention before you get me killed!” You snapped at her, hopping down off Henry to sign the log book stashed inside the dilapidated farmhouse.
“Why do you hate Dina?” Ellie asked when you looked up from your signature. She was standing in the doorway, blocking your exit. “Like you really hate her.”
“I don’t hate her.” You sighed, wondering why Ellie chose now of all moments to bring it up. Maybe that’s where she had been the last month. With Dina. Maybe she was leaving you. Did you have her enough for her to leave?
“You really hate her. Like I thought you were going to punch her that night in the bar.” Ellie sighed and you shrugged. “I need to know why.”
“Why?” You asked her quietly. She wasn’t going to let you leave so you took a seat on a rickety arm chair, dust puffing up when you took a seat. “Why do you need to know all of a sudden?”
“It’s important to me.” She told you earnestly and you shrugged again. You didn’t hate Dina. You disliked her, sure, but you disliked everyone. “I need to know.”
“I guess it would make it easier, huh?” You asked Ellie with a cold laugh. “I tell you why I hate the woman you love and you can go back to her without guilt, right?”
“No. The part of my life spent with Dina is over. I’m not the person I was and it wouldn’t work any longer.” Ellie sighed. “I’m with you now. That’s not going to change because you hate Dina.”
“I don’t fucking hate Dina!” You snapped and Ellie raised her eyebrows at you. You ran a hand over your face and sighed. “I don’t.”
“You feel something very strongly for her.” Ellie moved closer, taking a seat on the sofa. The same plume of dust came up when she sat and she coughed. “I need you to explain it for me.”
“She thinks we’re the same. She thinks because she loved you that she knows what we are.” You told Ellie and she nodded. “She asked me once if I know what it’s like to love someone who sees themselves as a sacrifice.”
“And you do.” Ellie sighed softly. You nodded, your hands clasped tightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that I’m sorry, about your sisters death and how it affected you.”
“I’m sorry about Joel.” You sighed, your head tipping forward so your expression was hidden. “Dina was wrong though.”
“About what?” Ellie asked. You didn’t look up at her this time, the conversation more real that anything either of you had shared before.
“She’s never loved a sacrifice.” You explained, clearing your throat didn’t help, the lump stuck. “You’re not a sacrifice. You’ve never been a sacrifice. Joel knew that, that’s why he stepped in that time. I can see it. You don’t throw yourself into fights you can’t win. You throw yourself into fights you will win.”
“I don’t thin- I don’t know if that’s-”
“You fight for the ones you love. You fight for those who fought for you. Joel risked everything to keep you alive. He was a fighter too. Both of you lost a fight the day he died. But with even ten minutes more of a chance he would’ve lived. The people fighting you both knew that. It took years to be able to beat you.” You explained to her. “That’s not a sacrifice, Ellie. That’s the unfortunate reality of the life we live.”
“I couldn’t save him.” She whispered and you nodded. “I won’t ever forgive myself.”
“I know. I couldn’t save her. She wanted to go. She had always wanted to go. She didn’t sacrifice herself for me. She wanted out and she took it in a way that looked meaningful.” You explained and Ellie blinked at you. “She was always sad. She always had been. She welcomed death. I’ll never forgive her.”
“I didn’t know that.” Ellie whispered and you looked up at last to face her. You didn’t say anything, wiping under your eyes. “You never told me.”
“I don’t discuss my feelings Ellie.” You sighed, exhausted. “So no, I don’t hate Dina. I’m jealous that she got this version of you, one that was full of life and she let you go over some misguided theory.”
“You wish I wasn’t like this.” Ellie wasn’t asking. “You want who I was.”
“I want who we were.” You explained. “If we had both met at eighteen we’d have been unstoppable. I would’ve had the love you needed.”
“You don’t love me now?” This time Ellie was asking and you blinked at her.
“Of course I love you. I think you might be the only person in this world that I love. But I don’t love you how you need.” You told her with a sigh. “We ruin each other every night and then kiss the cracks we’ve left on each other’s hearts like that will fix it. This ain’t healthy.”
“So you want to break up?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. You wanted her to understand so bad.
“I should want to. I should leave so that we can both heal but Ellie, I can’t live without you. So we’ll never get better.”
///
You thought Ellie would come home more after your conversation. You had never felt as exposed as you had returning from the patrol. She had walked back to the house with you, arms just barely brushing when you walked.
You hadn’t even made it in the door when she was pinning you against the wall, her face pressed into your neck. She had kissed her way down your body, undressing you tenderly. You hadn’t ever experienced this gentleness from her and you had to choke back the tears that welled in your eyes.
It had been so long since someone had been gentle with you that you had almost forgotten what it felt like.
She made you cum with her mouth and when you tried to return the favor she had only pulled you close and in a move she had never made before, she hugged you close and kissed your forehead.
She left you soon after, claiming she had something she needed to do. You let her leave, your own mind on what you had to do.
You pushed into the kitchen, pulling the bottle of whiskey out from the drinks cabinet and emptied the whole thing down the drain. You winced, watching the last of it leave the bottle.
You left then and headed straight for the Tipsy Bison. Seth met you at the counter looking stern. “Three is your cut off point tonight.”
“No, I’m not- would you, could you cut me off? Altogether?” You asked him, hesitating. “Even if I ask?”
“If you’re sure?” He asked you and you nodded. He shook his head with a smile and you gave him a weak offer of a smile back. “I’ll let the others know. This is a good thing, kid.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure if I believe it.” You told him and he laughed. “It’s an important thing though.”
“She’s worth every bit of it.” Seth promised and this time you laughed, amazed at how transparent you were being. “It’s time the two of you realized that.”
///
When you got home Ellie hadn’t returned. You wondered again where it was that she had been disappearing off to. You didn’t want to push her, waiting to see if she’d come to you. If things really had changed.
It wasn’t until you went to bed that you found the note on your pillow.
I need you to know that I know how this looks. I know it looks like I set everything up today just to let you down again. I didn’t know that you felt the way you did. I didn’t know that you could ever love me. I’ve been planning this for a while and I hate that we got so close to being normal and I’m going to ruin it. Maybe you’re right, maybe in another life or another timeline we would’ve been happy. I’m sorry that it isn’t this one.
I need to do this.
Love always,
Ellie.
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reidmarieprentiss · 3 days
Text
Point Break
Summary: Part two to Breaking Point. Spencer, reeling from betrayal, seeks solace in you after discovering Eli's infidelity. Overwhelmed by emotions, Spencer acts on impulse and sparks confusion between you and him. As Spencer opens up about the heartache of his broken relationship, you sympathize but you are hesitant, unsure if his feelings are genuine or fueled by vulnerability.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff, angst
Warnings/Includes: happy ending!!, implied bisexual Spencer, mentions of cheating, insecurities, mistrust, reader is the nicest person alive for real, the LONG game, roommate Penelope, confrontation with ex
Word count: 13.5k
a/n: hiii sorry this took a while to get out i had to keep taking breaks ,, writers block is a biggg jerk
main masterlist part one
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You pulled back after a moment, your breath catching in your throat as your mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened. The shock was written all over your face, and without even thinking, you reached out, pushing Spencer back by his shoulders to put some distance between the two of you. 
"What the hell?" you whispered, your voice wavering with disbelief as you searched his face for some kind of explanation. 
Spencer's eyes were filled with a confusing mix of emotions—pain, desperation, regret. He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, his lips slightly parted as if the words were stuck somewhere deep in his throat. 
"I—I'm sorry," he finally managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I—I shouldn’t have done that." 
You blinked, trying to process what had just happened, your mind racing to make sense of it all. This was Spencer—your new friend, your old foe, and, until moments ago, someone you thought was off-limits because of Eli. Now, everything felt upside down, like the ground had shifted beneath you.
"Spencer, what is going on?" you demanded, your voice a little steadier now as you tried to wrap your head around the situation. "You can’t just—kiss me like that. You—you're with Eli!" 
At the mention of Eli, something in Spencer’s expression cracked, the pain in his eyes deepening as his shoulders slumped. He exhaled shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair. "I know… I know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But… they’re with someone else." 
Your heart dropped at his words, and you felt your grip on his shoulders loosen as the weight of his revelation settled over you. "What?" you whispered, your confusion giving way to a sudden rush of sympathy. "Spencer, what are you talking about?"
He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. "I came home tonight… and they were… with someone else," he said quietly, his voice breaking with the admission. "Shane. The same person you went on a date with."
The room seemed to close in around you as the full impact of his words hit you. You stepped back, your mind reeling from the shock. "Shane?" you repeated, disbelief washing over you. "Are you—are you serious?"
Spencer nodded, his eyes filled with sadness and exhaustion. "Yeah. I walked in and… they didn’t even care. They just told me we’d talk later, like it didn’t even matter."
You stood there, stunned into silence, the weight of everything crashing down all at once. You wanted to say something, anything, to ease his pain, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare at him, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
Spencer finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and you saw the raw vulnerability in his gaze. "I don’t know why I came here," he admitted softly. "I just—I didn’t know where else to go."
Your heart ached for him, torn between the overwhelming urge to comfort him and the confusion swirling inside you. You hadn’t expected any of this—not the kiss, not the revelation about Eli, not the flood of emotions that came with it.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to him again, this time with less hesitation. "Spencer," you said gently, your hands falling away from his shoulders, "I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling right now."
He looked at you with such vulnerability, like he was on the verge of breaking. "I don’t know what to do," he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension in the air hung heavy, charged with emotions neither of you had fully processed. You wanted to say something to ease his pain, but you weren’t sure what. Everything about this moment felt messy and complicated.
Finally, you grabbed Spencer again, this time pulling him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around him with a warmth that you hoped would give him some sense of comfort. His body tensed for a brief moment, but then he melted into the embrace, resting his head against your shoulder. You could feel the weight of everything he was carrying—the hurt, the betrayal, the confusion—and you held him tighter, as if your embrace could somehow take some of that burden off his shoulders.
"Spencer," you murmured into his shoulder, your voice soft but firm, "you can stay here."
He didn’t respond immediately, but you felt him nod slightly against you, his breath uneven, as if he were trying to hold back tears.
"You can sleep on the couch, okay?" you added, pulling back slightly so you could look him in the eyes. His face was so full of emotion—sadness, relief, and maybe a little bit of guilt—but you gave him a reassuring smile. "Come on in. Let’s get you some water."
Spencer blinked, his expression softening as he nodded again. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the gratitude in it was unmistakable.
You led him inside, guiding him to the couch before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. As you filled the glass, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at him. He looked so vulnerable, sitting there with his head bowed, his hands resting limply in his lap. It was like the weight of everything that had happened had finally caught up to him, and now that he was in a safe space, he was allowing himself to feel it.
Spencer took another sip of water, avoiding your gaze as he processed your words. His face was filled with conflicting emotions, a mix of vulnerability and stubbornness. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes flicking to yours for just a second before darting away again. “You’re such a nice person.”
You gave him a funny look, the corner of your mouth pulling into a smile despite the weight of the situation. “Of course,” you replied, patting his hand gently. “Don’t even worry about it.”
You paused for a moment, then added, "And we can forget about the kiss too. It’s not a big deal."
At your words, Spencer’s grip tightened around the glass, his expression shifting. He looked down, his voice barely audible as he mumbled, “I don’t want to forget about it.”
The statement hung in the air for a moment, the weight of it making your heart skip a beat. “What?” you asked, your voice coming out more softly than you intended.
“I don’t want to forget about it,” Spencer repeated, a little louder this time, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that caught you off guard.
You blinked, taking a step back mentally as you tried to wrap your head around what he was saying. “Spencer… you’re vulnerable right now. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His expression hardened slightly, his voice steady as he deadpanned, “I’m a grown man, Y/N.”
You laughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension. “Well then, grown man,” you teased lightly, “why don’t you sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning?”
Spencer let out a small, reluctant grumble, but you could tell he was grateful for your kindness, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it. His eyes softened, and he nodded, setting the empty glass down on the table beside him.
“You’re right,” he muttered, his voice low but sincere. “I’ll sleep on it.” He paused, glancing at you with a mix of guilt and gratitude. “I’m sorry for… everything. For treating you the way I did, for being distant. I didn’t deserve your kindness tonight.”
You shook your head, giving him a gentle smile. “Spencer, it’s okay. We’ve all been through tough times. Just… get some rest, okay? We can talk more in the morning.”
Spencer nodded again, and as you stood to grab some blankets for him, you could feel his gaze lingering on you, full of unspoken words. As much as you wanted to make sense of the complicated emotions swirling between you two, you knew tonight wasn’t the time.
You handed him the blankets, and Spencer laid down on the couch, pulling them over himself. The room was quiet now, the tension easing into a comfortable silence.
As you headed to your bedroom, you gave him one last reassuring smile. “Goodnight, Spencer.”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied softly, watching you go, the weight of everything still hanging between you both as the night drew to a close.
In the morning, Penelope groggily emerged from her bedroom, her hair a tangled mess as she shuffled down the hall in desperate search of coffee. Her eyes were barely open as she passed by the couch, her brain still half-asleep. She glanced at the figure lying there, not really processing what she was seeing.
But then, after a few more steps, something clicked. She spun around, doing a double take as her eyes landed on the unmistakable form of Spencer Reid, curled up asleep under a blanket. Her groggy mind snapped awake, and she immediately bolted back down the hall, slipping into your room with the grace of a wrecking ball.
Without any warning, she launched herself onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress and causing you to wake with a jolt. "AH!" you screamed, your heart racing as you shot up, eyes wide with panic. "Penelope, what the hell?!"
The commotion had stirred Spencer as well. He groaned softly, sitting up on the couch, disoriented and trying to piece together where he was and how he’d ended up there.
Penelope, still perched on your bed, gave you an incredulous look as she shook your shoulders with excitement. "Why is Spencer Reid asleep on our couch??" she asked, her voice an urgent whisper, but her eyes were wide with curiosity and glee.
Spencer, now fully awake, froze in place on the couch. His heart thudded in his chest as he remembered exactly why he was there, the events of the previous night flashing through his mind. He held his breath, wondering how much you were going to tell Penelope. The thought of your conversation, the kiss, everything—it made his stomach twist with anxiety.
You let out a sigh, quickly composing yourself as you tried to come up with something believable. "He… he forgot his phone at the party last night," you said, your voice calm despite the panic running through your veins. "We got to talking when he came back to get it, and then it was so late I just told him he should stay." You were impressed with how smoothly the lie rolled off your tongue.
Spencer’s body relaxed slightly, immense gratitude washing over him as he realized you weren’t going to throw him under the bus. You had just saved him from an awkward explanation, and once again, he found himself in awe of your endless kindness. He didn’t feel like he deserved it.
Penelope blinked, processing your explanation. Then, much to your relief, she burst into laughter. "Oh, that sounds exactly like something Spencer would do!" She winked at you, hopefully buying your story, before adding with a teasing grin, "Should’ve asked him to sleep in here with you though!"
You rolled your eyes, your face flushing as you laughed nervously. "Very funny, Pen."
Penelope gave your leg a playful pat before hopping off the bed. "Alright, come on, let’s go make some coffee." She didn’t seem the least bit phased by Spencer’s unexpected presence, her usual bubbly energy returning as she bounced out of your room and headed toward the kitchen.
You threw the blanket off and followed Penelope down the hall, glancing over at Spencer, who still looked a little dazed but relieved. As you passed him, you gave him a small, reassuring smile, grateful that the situation had smoothed over with Penelope none the wiser.
Spencer smiled back, the tension in his chest loosening as he watched you go.
After the pot had been filled and Penelope had happily clutched her mug, she gave you a quick hug and cheerfully bid you adieu, mentioning her lunch plans with Hotch and Jack. With her gone, the apartment seemed quieter, and the sunlight filtering through the kitchen windows cast a warm, golden glow over everything.
You and Spencer sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, mugs of steaming coffee in hand. The soft morning light made everything feel calm and serene, but in Spencer’s eyes, it was you who seemed to glow. The sunlight danced across your skin, making you look absolutely beautiful in his eyes, and for a moment, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
“How did you sleep?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. Your voice was gentle, and the concern in your eyes made Spencer’s chest tighten.
He stirred his coffee slowly, as if giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. "Fine," he replied, though his voice was hesitant. "Thank you… for everything. I can go, really. You’ve already done too much, and I’m probably overstaying my welcome."
"Spencer," you laughed lightly, shaking your head, "slow down. You don’t have to go anywhere until you’re ready. You’re not overstaying at all. Please, relax."
Spencer let out a long, deep sigh, the weight of everything still heavy on his shoulders. His fingers wrapped around his mug, seeking comfort in its warmth. When he finally looked up at you, his brown eyes were soft, filled with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart. "Why are you so nice?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes, confusion and gratitude swirling in them.
You smiled at him, a soft, tender smile that made his heart swell. "I can’t think of any reason not to be nice to you," you replied, your voice sincere and warm.
For a moment, Spencer didn’t know what to say. Your kindness, your ability to offer him understanding and comfort even after everything—it left him speechless. He felt like he didn’t deserve it, not after everything that had happened, not after the mess he had made of his own life. But here you were, sitting across from him, offering him solace and a place to breathe.
He blinked, trying to keep the sudden rush of emotion from overtaking him. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered, almost to himself. But you heard him, and without missing a beat, you reached across the table, placing your hand over his.
"You deserve to be cared for, Spencer. Don’t think for a second that you don’t."
Spencer looked down at your hand covering his, the warmth of your touch seeping into him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a little less alone.
After Penelope left, you felt a sense of relief, knowing that she had caught on to the fact that something was going on with Spencer, but she hadn’t pressed you about it. She was giving you space, trusting you to share when the time was right. You told her Spencer would probably hang out for the day, mentioning how you two had talked about watching some movies together. It was a simple excuse, but she didn’t question it—she knew you’d open up when you were ready.
Once you were truly alone, the apartment quiet and peaceful, you turned to Spencer with a gentle smile. "If you want, you can take a shower," you offered, keeping your tone light. "I have some clothes that might fit you—my brother left some here when he last visited."
Spencer hesitated for a moment, as if the simple act of accepting your hospitality was somehow a burden, but then he nodded, grateful. "That sounds nice, thank you."
You showed him to the bathroom, giving him a fresh towel and the clothes. When Spencer disappeared behind the door, you could hear the faint sound of the water turning on. You used the time to freshen up yourself, wanting to wash away the remnants of the emotional night. By the time Spencer reappeared, freshly showered and dressed in your brother’s clothes, there was a slight shift in his demeanor—he looked calmer, maybe even lighter, though there was still a cloud hanging over him.
The two of you settled in the living room, sitting comfortably on the couch. The air was peaceful, and for a moment, it was easy to forget the chaos of the night before. But there was still something unspoken between you, something that Spencer needed to get off his chest.
You glanced at him, his eyes downcast as he sipped more of the coffee you’d made earlier. His fingers tapped absentmindedly against the mug, a small tell of the tension still lingering within him.
"Spencer," you said softly, your voice pulling him from his thoughts. "Maybe we should talk about… everything that’s going on. I mean, if you’re ready."
He sighed deeply, setting the mug down on the coffee table, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of everything was too much to carry anymore. "I don’t even know where to start," he admitted, his voice low, almost defeated.
"Start wherever you feel comfortable," you encouraged, your tone gentle but steady. "I’m here to listen."
Spencer took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. He glanced at you, eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and gratitude, and then he began to speak.
"It’s just… everything feels like it’s falling apart," he started, his voice shaking slightly. "Eli, the relationship, it hasn’t been good for a while. But I kept convincing myself it would get better. I kept thinking that if I just tried harder, if I just did more, then maybe things would go back to the way they were when we first started."
You listened quietly, not interrupting, giving him the space to get everything out. You could see how hard it was for him to admit these things, how much he had been holding in.
"But it didn’t get better," he continued, his hands clenching slightly. "It just got worse. They would get angry over small things, blame me for everything that went wrong. I started feeling like… like I wasn’t enough. Like no matter what I did, I couldn’t make them happy."
The pain in his voice was palpable, and it made your heart ache for him. You had known something was wrong, but hearing it laid out like this was devastating.
"And then last night," Spencer’s voice cracked as he mentioned it. "Walking in and seeing them with someone else… I don’t even know how to process it. Part of me knew, deep down, that something was going on, but I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to believe it."
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I don’t know what to do, Y/N. I feel so lost."
You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, grounding him in that moment. "I’m so sorry, Spencer," you whispered, your voice thick with empathy. "You don’t deserve any of this."
Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, letting your words wash over him. When he opened them again, there was a vulnerability in his gaze that cut right through you. His face was a mix of emotions, the kind of internal storm that you could almost feel radiating from him. 
"I feel like such a terrible person," he confessed quietly, the weight of the words heavy on his tongue.
His admission caught you off guard. You furrowed your brow, tilting your head slightly as you asked, "Wait, why do you feel like a terrible person?"
Spencer sighed deeply, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment before he looked back up at you. "I was upset—angry, when I caught them, of course. But then… I just stopped caring," he admitted, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and relief. "The more I think about it, the less I care that my relationship is over, and the angrier I feel that I let it go on for so long."
You nodded slowly, understanding the conflict he was feeling, the emotional exhaustion that came with being stuck in a toxic relationship for too long. You stayed quiet, giving him the space to continue.
"And then," Spencer continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, "the only thing I could think about was coming back here. To see you." He paused, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, his vulnerability exposed. "I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, and I can leave if you want, but I need to tell you this."
Your heart sped up, your breath catching in your throat as he looked deep into your eyes. There was something raw in his gaze, something that made your pulse quicken in anticipation of what he was about to say.
"I just wanted to see you," Spencer admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "You are the only person, the only thing, that has made me feel something in so long. You’re absolutely gorgeous, inside and out, and—and I hated going home to Eli every time after I would see you."
His confession hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken emotions. You could see the honesty in his eyes, the way he had been carrying these feelings for a long time but had kept them buried. There was no denying the intensity of his words, the rawness in the way he expressed how much you meant to him.
For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had always felt something for Spencer—maybe even more than you had allowed yourself to admit—but hearing him say those things, hearing him admit that you were the reason he kept going, left you speechless. 
"Spencer…" you finally whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion, but you couldn’t find the words to follow up. You were stunned, your heart fluttering in your chest as you processed what he had just told you.
Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hands fidgeting in his lap as he continued. "Eli even told me to stop talking to you, made it a rule that you were off limits. Friends, not friends—it didn’t matter. They knew before I did." He looked down for a moment, clearly still grappling with the weight of his own realizations.
You sat there, still speechless, trying to absorb everything he was saying. The room felt heavier, the air thick with the tension between you two, but you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt. You could see that he was struggling, and something in you told you to let him continue.
"When Eli and I first started dating, and you came into Penelope’s life, I thought you were cute," Spencer admitted, his voice soft but laced with honesty. "I guess Eli saw you as a threat. Always. That’s... that’s why I couldn’t talk to you. I thought you would be the downfall of my relationship."
He paused, letting his words sink in. The tension in his voice, the vulnerability in his expression—it was all so much for you to take in at once. You had noticed the distance between you and Spencer over the months, but you had never imagined that it was intentional, that someone else had been pulling him away.
"But..." Spencer continued, his voice a little stronger now, though still filled with emotion, "I think you actually saved it. Or maybe—" He paused again, gathering his thoughts. "Maybe you saved me from it."
That last sentence seemed to hang in the air, heavier than anything else he’d said so far. His eyes searched yours, trying to gauge your reaction. He looked so lost, so unsure of himself, and all you wanted to do was reach across the table and take his hand, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this.
Your mind raced as you processed his words. Spencer, sweet, kind Spencer, had been trapped in a relationship that drained him, and you—without even knowing it—had been the light that pulled him out. It was overwhelming, hearing that you had made such an impact on someone you cared about, especially someone like Spencer.
You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, your mind still reeling from everything he had just laid out in front of you. "Spencer... I had no idea," you said softly, your voice finally breaking the silence. "I’m... I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of that."
He shook his head, giving you a small, almost sad smile. "It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, you were just... you. And that’s what made me realize that I deserved more. That I deserve to feel something real."
His words hit you hard, and you felt your heart swell with emotion. Spencer was laying everything bare, and it was clear that he had been carrying these feelings for a long time. 
"You do deserve more, Spencer," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel... everything."
Spencer looked at you, his gaze soft but filled with intensity. "That’s what I want, Y/N," he said quietly. "I want to feel everything. With you." 
You sat there, staring into his eyes, the weight of his confession settling into your chest. Everything between you felt charged, like the world had shifted in those few moments, and you were left wondering where you would go from here. 
"Spencer..." you sighed again, your voice soft but filled with a mix of emotions. You could see the way his shoulders slumped slightly, the self-doubt creeping into his expression, and it broke your heart a little.
He nodded, already bracing himself for the rejection he assumed was coming. "You don’t feel the same," he stated, his voice low and bitter, the words heavy as if they physically weighed him down. He couldn’t even meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on the table between you.
"I–I..." you stuttered, searching for the right words, but none seemed to come. How could you explain everything you were feeling when you hadn’t even fully processed it yourself? You cared about Spencer, of course you did. He had always been kind, even if not to you, brilliant, and yes, incredibly attractive. But this—this sudden confession of feelings—it was a lot to take in all at once. 
Spencer had only recently begun to treat you like a real friend, and you had cherished those moments, the playful banter, the shared laughs. And now, he was telling you that he thought of you even while he was with Eli, that you were the only thing keeping him afloat during a time when his relationship was sinking. It was overwhelming, to say the least.
"Spencer," you tried again, your voice soft but steady this time. "I just... this is a lot. You just got out of something really painful, and now you're telling me all of this, and I—"
"I know," he cut you off, his voice thick with frustration, though not at you. "I know it’s a lot. But I need you to understand—I wasn’t with Eli for a long time, not really. We were just... coexisting. I thought I had to make it work, but the truth is, I didn’t care anymore. And then I realized the only person I did care about was you."
His words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of them pressing down on you. This was real for Spencer, but you were still trying to wrap your head around it all.
You ran a hand through your hair, exhaling deeply. "Spencer, I don’t know what to say. I care about you, I do, but you’ve just been through something so heavy. I don’t want to be the rebound. I don’t want to be the person you turn to because you’re hurt and looking for comfort. That’s not fair to either of us."
Spencer’s face fell slightly, though he didn’t look angry—just disappointed, in himself more than anything. "You’re not a rebound," he said quietly, shaking his head. "You’re... you’re so much more than that. I didn’t mean to put this all on you right now. I just..." He trailed off, clearly unsure how to explain what he was feeling without overwhelming you further.
You reached across the table, placing a hand gently on top of his. "I know you’re hurting, and I know you’ve had a rough time. But maybe... maybe we should just take a step back and give this some space to breathe. You need time to heal, and I need time to process all of this."
Spencer nodded, though you could see the sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, maybe you’re right," he admitted, though it was clear that the thought of pulling back hurt him. "I don’t want to lose you, Y/N."
"You’re not going to lose me, Spencer," you said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "But let’s just put this on pause and think about it, okay? Let’s not rush into anything."
He let out a small, defeated sigh but nodded in agreement. "Okay," he accepted, though the sadness in his voice was still there.
You sat there together, the tension slowly dissipating as the reality of the situation settled between you. Spencer had opened up to you in a way you hadn’t expected, and while the future was uncertain, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together—slowly, carefully, and with the respect and care both of you deserved.
Spencer left later that day after actually watching a movie, feeling slightly more grounded but knowing he couldn’t avoid the inevitable conversation with Eli any longer. As much as he dreaded it, they needed to figure out their living situation and how to move forward, even if it meant parting ways.
When Spencer got home, the apartment was eerily quiet. Shane was gone—probably for good, Spencer thought with a bitter sense of relief. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the space that once felt like home but now seemed like a stranger's. With a deep breath, he made his way to the living room.
Eli was sitting on the couch, completely engrossed in football recaps. Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the familiar scene, feeling the anger bubbling up inside him once again. How could they just sit there, watching TV, as if nothing had happened? As if their whole relationship hadn’t crumbled the moment Spencer walked in on them with someone else?
He cleared his throat loudly, trying to get Eli’s attention. For a brief second, Eli glanced up at him, gave a half-hearted pat on the cushion next to them, and then turned their attention right back to the screen.
Spencer’s patience snapped. Without thinking, he reached for the remote and turned off the TV completely, the silence in the room now deafening.
“What the fuck, Spencer?” Eli snapped, their voice sharp, clearly irritated by the interruption.
Spencer stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to control the anger that was threatening to consume him. "What the fuck, me?" Spencer repeated incredulously, his voice filled with disbelief. "You really think you can just sit here, watch football, and pretend like nothing happened?"
Eli sighed dramatically, rolling their eyes as if Spencer was being unreasonable. "Oh, come on, Spencer. We both know things weren’t exactly great between us. You just walked in at the wrong time, that’s all."
"The wrong time?" Spencer echoed, his voice rising. "I walked in on you having sex with someone else in our bed! How is that the ‘wrong time’? You cheated on me, Eli. Multiple times, apparently!"
Eli didn’t even flinch at the accusation. Instead, they shrugged, looking completely unfazed. "Yeah, well, it’s not like you were completely innocent either," they shot back. "You were always spending time with your friends, especially Y/N."
Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you seriously trying to turn this around on me? I wasn’t the one sneaking around behind your back. And Y/N? We’ve barely even spoken outside of group outings."
"Please," Eli scoffed. "I’m not stupid. You’ve had a thing for her from the start. It was obvious to anyone with eyes. You were like a puppy with a bone, I’m sure you’ve slept with her plenty."
Spencer felt the breath leave his lungs. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his mind racing with everything Eli had just said. It was true that he had feelings for you, feelings he hadn’t fully acknowledged until recently. But he never acted on them—he had been loyal, even when things between him and Eli were falling apart.
"I never cheated on you," Spencer said quietly, his voice raw with emotion. "I respected our relationship, even when you didn’t. But I can’t do this anymore, Eli. I can’t stay here, pretending everything is fine when it’s not."
Eli rolled their eyes again, clearly bored with the conversation. "Fine. Whatever, Spencer. If you want to leave, then leave. I’ll find a way to cover the rent without you."
Spencer shook his head, the anger quickly giving way to a deep, aching sadness. He had fought so hard to make this relationship work, but it was clear now that Eli had stopped caring a long time ago.
"I’ll pack my things," Spencer said quietly, turning away from Eli and heading toward the bedroom.
As he walked down the hallway, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was free. Free from the toxic cycle he had been trapped in, free from Eli’s manipulations, and free to finally move on.
And as he started packing his belongings, his thoughts drifted to you. You, who had been kind to him when he didn’t deserve it. You, who had made him laugh and feel alive again. Maybe, just maybe, there was something better waiting for him on the other side of all this if he hadn’t ruined his chances by basically throwing himself at you.
Spencer didn’t want to impose on you and Penelope again after everything that had happened, especially not with how raw his emotions still were. So, after packing up his things and leaving Eli’s apartment, he made his way to Derek’s place. Derek had always been someone Spencer could turn to in times of trouble, and right now, he needed the stability of a friend who wouldn’t judge him or make things more complicated than they already were.
When Spencer arrived at Derek’s front door, suitcase in hand, Derek took one look at him and knew something had gone terribly wrong. Without saying a word, Derek opened the door wider, gesturing for Spencer to come inside. They sat down on Derek's couch, Spencer staring at the floor for a few moments, unsure of where to even begin.
“Alright, pretty boy,” Derek finally said, breaking the silence. “What happened?”
Spencer let out a long, weary sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He told Derek everything—the cheating, the confrontation, and the end of his relationship with Eli. As the words spilled out of him, Spencer felt the weight of it all settle deeper on his shoulders. When he was finished, he glanced up at Derek, half expecting to see pity in his friend’s eyes.
But Derek’s expression wasn’t one of pity—it was pure, unfiltered anger.
“They did what?” Derek growled, his fists clenching as he stood up from the couch, pacing back and forth. “Man, I swear to God, I’m gonna kick Eli’s ass. No one gets to treat you like that.”
Spencer quickly stood up, placing a hand on Derek’s arm to stop him from storming out the door. “Derek, no, please. It’s over. I don’t want to make things worse. It’s not worth it.”
Derek stopped pacing, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. He shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I just can’t believe they did that to you, man. You didn’t deserve that. No one does.”
Spencer nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor again. “I know. But it’s done now. I just… I don’t know what to do next.”
Derek softened, his anger giving way to concern as he looked at his friend. “You’re staying here, that’s what you’re doing. Don’t even think about going back to that place.”
Spencer gave a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Derek. I really appreciate it.”
Derek pulled Spencer into a quick hug, patting his back before pulling away. “Anytime, pretty boy. You know that.”
The two sat back down, the tension easing slightly now that Spencer knew he had somewhere safe to stay. But there was still something else weighing on Spencer’s mind, something he hadn’t fully processed yet.
“There’s… there’s more,” Spencer said hesitantly, glancing at Derek, unsure of how to explain the next part.
Derek raised an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. “More? What else happened?”
Spencer shifted uncomfortably on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. “It’s about Y/N. I, uh, I went to her place last night after everything with Eli. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Derek’s expression softened, his tone turning more curious than concerned. “And?”
Spencer let out a long breath, feeling the tension build in his chest again. “I kissed her. I didn’t mean to, it just… happened. I was upset, and she was there, and I just—" He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the rest.
Derek stared at Spencer for a moment, his lips pursing before he responded. “You kissed Y/N? Out of the blue?”
Spencer nodded, feeling the guilt creep up again. “Yeah. She pulled back almost immediately, and then I stayed the night on her couch. Nothing else happened. But now… I don’t know what to do. I told her how I felt about her, but I don’t think she feels the same way.”
Derek leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms as he took in everything Spencer had just said. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been harboring feelings for Y/N for who knows how long, your relationship with Eli is finally over, and now you think Y/N doesn’t feel the same because she didn’t immediately jump into your arms?”
Spencer winced at how blunt Derek put it, but he nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Derek let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Spencer, man, you’ve been through hell and back in the last 24 hours. She probably just doesn’t want to be a rebound, you know? You’ve got a lot going on right now. If she’s the person I think she is, she’s probably just giving you some space to process everything.”
Spencer tilted his head, considering Derek’s words. “You think so?”
Derek nodded confidently. “Yeah, man. I know Y/N. She’s not gonna throw you away over one kiss. She’s probably just waiting for you to figure out your own head. You can’t blame her for that.”
Spencer sighed, feeling a small sense of relief wash over him. “I guess you’re right. It’s just… I don’t want to mess things up with her.”
“You’re not gonna mess anything up,” Derek assured him, placing a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Just take your time. Don’t rush into anything. You’ve got a lot to figure out, but Y/N’s not going anywhere. Trust me.”
Spencer nodded slowly, letting Derek’s advice sink in. He didn’t know what the future held with you, but for the first time in a while, he felt like maybe—just maybe—there was hope for something better.
“Thanks, Derek,” Spencer said, offering a small smile. “I really needed to hear that.”
“Anytime, man,” Derek grinned. “Now, let’s go grab some food and forget about Eli for a while. You’ve earned a break.”
Spencer smiled, feeling lighter as he followed Derek out the door. For the first time in a long time, he felt like things were finally starting to fall into place.
Across town, things felt like they were spinning out of control. You paced your bedroom floor, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Your mind was a storm of thoughts, swirling around faster than you could keep up with. Spencer’s sudden confession had thrown you for a loop, and you knew the moment Penelope walked through the front door, she would ask you about it—she would definitely ask.
But you didn’t know if it was your place to tell her. A lot of what happened had to do with Spencer’s personal business. Plus, how could you explain the confusion, the emotions you were still trying to untangle in your own head? So, instead of facing the inevitable questions, you locked yourself in your room, hoping to find some clarity in the quiet.
Spencer was vulnerable. That much was obvious. He was hurt, mistreated, and confused—dealing with the fallout of a relationship that had crumbled around him. But at the same time, Spencer was brilliant, kind, funny, and wonderful in so many ways. And now, you were left wondering: did he really have feelings for you, or was this all just because of his emotional state?
The question you kept circling back to was one that made your heart sink. Am I just a rebound? The thought twisted in your chest, a painful knot of uncertainty.
Spencer was vulnerable right now, too vulnerable to really understand what he wanted, right? How could he guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind once the dust settled? That was the part that worried you the most. You didn’t want to be someone’s second choice, their consolation prize after a heartbreak. And while you cared about Spencer deeply, you also cared about yourself.
You stopped pacing, letting out a long breath. That’s it, you thought, feeling a small wave of relief wash over you as a clear decision came into focus. If anything was going to happen between you and Spencer, it couldn’t be right now. He needed time—to heal, to process everything. You both did.
You would have to wait until you saw him again to tell him this, to explain how you felt. It was the only way to protect yourself and give Spencer the space he needed to figure out his own heart.
But until then, you would keep your distance. You owed it to yourself, and to Spencer, to not rush into something that might not be real. You just hoped, when the time came to talk, that he would understand.
You sat down on the edge of your bed, your mind still racing but at least now, with a sense of direction. You would wait. It was the only way to make sure neither of you got hurt.
Spencer had spent the entire week on edge, waiting for Penelope to bring up what had happened between him and you. He figured you would have told her by now, but every time he saw Penelope, she acted completely normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was driving him crazy, the waiting, the anticipation. By Friday, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know.
As the workday came to a close, Spencer found himself standing at Penelope’s desk, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands. He hesitated for a moment before finally blurting out, “Hey, um, have you talked to Y/N this week?”
Penelope looked up from her screen, tilting her head in confusion. “Y/N?” she repeated, blinking. “Why do you ask?”
Spencer felt a knot form in his stomach. “Uh, no reason, really. I just—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to continue. He hadn’t expected this. He had thought Penelope would know everything by now.
Penelope raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to his question than he was letting on. “Spencer,” she said slowly, leaning back in her chair, “what’s going on?”
Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “It’s just… I thought Y/N might have mentioned something to you. About, well, about me staying at your place.”
Penelope’s confusion deepened, and she furrowed her brow. “Oh! I mean, yeah, she mentioned you forgot your phone and then stayed the night because it was late.” She gave him a curious look, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Why? Did something else happen?”
Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he realized you hadn’t told her the whole truth. Of course you hadn’t. You were protecting him, just like you always did. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. You were giving him the space to figure things out, and here he was, getting impatient, assuming the worst.
He cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “No, no, nothing happened. I was just wondering, that’s all.” His voice sounded too forced, even to him.
Penelope’s eyes softened, and she gave him a knowing smile. “Spencer, if something’s on your mind, you can talk to me. You know that, right?”
Spencer offered her a tight-lipped smile in return, nodding. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Pen.”
But as he walked away, his mind was spinning. You hadn’t told her. That meant you were still thinking things through, maybe even waiting to talk to him. Maybe this wasn’t over. The thought filled him with equal parts hope and anxiety. He knew he’d have to be patient, but the waiting was already killing him.
The only thing he could do now was wait for you to make the next move.
The moment Penelope sent you the text, telling you she was hosting a game night with the team, your heart skipped a beat. You knew Spencer would be there—it was practically guaranteed. The very thought of seeing him again made your stomach twist with a mix of nerves and something you couldn’t quite place. But instead of jumping at the opportunity, you felt the overwhelming urge to avoid it. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Spencer, it was that you weren’t ready to have that conversation in front of everyone, not when there were still so many thoughts swirling around in your head.
You texted Penelope back, fingers hovering over the keys as you tried to come up with the perfect excuse. Finally, you settled on something simple.
Hey, feeling a bit under the weather. I think I'm just gonna stay in my room tonight. Please don't tell anyone I'm home, I just need some quiet time. Hope you have fun!
You knew how Penelope and the rest of the team were. If they knew you were home, they'd come barging in with concern or their usual boisterous energy, and you simply weren’t in the mood to deal with all of that tonight. You wanted peace, just some time to yourself.
Thankfully, Penelope didn’t question it. She sent back a short text, filled with lots of hearts and well-wishes, respecting your request. With that small relief, you tucked yourself deeper into the blankets and let out a soft sigh.
For most of the night, you were able to sit quietly in your bedroom, the dim glow of your laptop illuminating the darkened space as the low hum of a movie filled the silence. It wasn’t quite the escape you were hoping for—your mind kept wandering back to Spencer, to the weight of his confession, and the way you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.
But then you heard a soft knock on your bedroom door—so quiet you almost thought you imagined it. You froze, holding your breath, hoping whoever it was would go away. But then, you heard a familiar voice, barely above a whisper.
“Y/N?”
You sighed, knowing you couldn’t avoid him any longer. “Come in,” you said softly, bracing yourself for the conversation you had been putting off.
The door creaked open slowly, and Spencer’s head peeked into the room, his eyes scanning the space until they landed on you, bundled up in bed. His face softened when he saw you, and he let out a quiet breath, almost as if he’d been holding it in the entire time.
“Hi,” he greeted, his voice gentle.
“Hey,” you replied, your tone equally soft. You shifted slightly in bed, making room for him to sit if he wanted to. “How did you know I was here?”
“I saw your keys by the door,” he explained, stepping into the room a bit more, but still lingering by the entrance.
You raised an eyebrow, confused. “How do you know which keys are mine?”
A small smile tugged at Spencer’s lips. “They have your favorite color on them.”
His answer caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know my favorite color?”
Spencer shifted, a little awkwardly, as if the answer was so obvious that he was embarrassed. “I pay attention,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “I always have.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid between you. Spencer, with his shy, awkward demeanor, stood there in the doorway, looking like he wanted to say a thousand things but couldn’t quite find the words.
You weren’t sure how to feel about his response. It was sweet, the kind of small detail that someone who truly cared about you would notice. But it also reminded you of everything that had happened between him and Eli—the complicated mess you were both now tangled in.
Finally, you broke the silence. “Spencer,” you began, your voice careful and measured, “we need to talk.”
He nodded, stepping further into the room and taking a seat at the edge of your bed. “I know,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been thinking about what you said… and about everything that’s happened.”
You nodded, encouraging him to continue. Your heart was beating a little faster now, but you stayed still, waiting for him to say what he needed to.
“I don’t want to overwhelm you or make things complicated,” he began, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. “But I just… I can’t stop thinking about how I feel when I’m around you. And I know it’s messy right now, but I don’t want to lose that.”
His words hit you harder than you expected. You had been so focused on making sure you weren’t just a rebound, that you hadn’t stopped to think about how Spencer might feel—about how genuine his emotions might be, even in the middle of all the chaos.
“Spencer, I… I understand where you’re coming from, but you just ended things with Eli. You’re still processing all of that,” you said gently, trying to tread carefully. “I don’t want you to make decisions about us when you’re feeling vulnerable. You need time to figure things out.”
He looked down, nodding, clearly understanding your point. “I know, you’re right. I just—" He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just don’t want to lose you before I even get a chance to really show you how much you mean to me.”
Your heart ached at his words, and you wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that he didn’t have to rush, that you weren’t going anywhere. But you knew that both of you needed time—time to heal, time to think, time to figure out what this all meant.
“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you reassured him, your voice steady but soft. “But I think it’s important for you to take some time to process everything. You need to heal from what happened with Eli, and I need to make sure we’re both in the right place before we explore anything.”
He nodded again, though you could see the sadness in his eyes. “I understand,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll give you space. I just… I needed you to know how I feel.”
You smiled at him, feeling a wave of affection for the man sitting in front of you. He was hurting, confused, but still trying to navigate everything with the same care and thoughtfulness that had always made him so special.
“Thank you for telling me,” you said, your voice warm. “And when you’re ready—really ready—we can talk about this again.”
Spencer gave you a small, grateful smile, the weight of the conversation lifting just a little. “Okay,” he agreed softly. “I’ll be patient.”
With that, he stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were trying to savor the last few moments before he had to leave. “I’ll let you rest,” he said, turning toward the door.
But just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at you. “I really do pay attention, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I always have.”
And with that, he left, closing the door gently behind him.
You lay there for a moment, processing everything that had just happened. It was clear that Spencer’s feelings for you were real, but it was also clear that things needed time. You couldn’t rush into something that had the potential to hurt both of you, no matter how much you might want to.
But as you settled back into your bed, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of hope. Spencer was patient, kind, and thoughtful. And maybe, just maybe, when the time was right, there could be something more between you two.
But for now, you both had to wait.
It had been a month since you’d seen Spencer. You’d managed to carefully avoid any events, hangouts, or places where you knew he might be. Spencer had finally told the team about him and Eli, and even confided in Penelope about what happened between the two of you. 
Now that Penelope knew, you were free to discuss it openly with her, which had been a relief. You needed your best friend's advice, and she never failed to listen and offer her support. 
One afternoon, Penelope came home in her usual upbeat fashion, practically bouncing through the door as she called out, “Oh, honey! I’m home!”
You laughed from your spot at the kitchen counter, where you were cutting carrots for dinner. "In the kitchen, dear!" you called back, trying to match her playful tone.
Moments later, Penelope appeared, wrapping her arms around you from behind and swaying you gently, her vibrant energy contagious. "Guess which genius is having a housewarming party and specifically requested your attendance," she said, her voice dripping with excitement.
Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to play it off casually. You didn’t want to seem too affected by the news, even though you knew exactly who she was talking about. "Hmm… I don’t know, Pen, Jack Hotchner?" you joked, turning your head slightly to give her a teasing smile.
Penelope giggled and let go of you, moving to lean against the counter, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh please, as adorable as Jack is, I don’t think his juice box parties are quite this exciting. Nope, it’s our genius—Spencer Reid." 
The mention of his name sent a small jolt through you. It had been a while since you'd heard anyone talk about him directly to you, and hearing it now made everything feel more real again. You swallowed, trying to keep your cool as you put the knife down and turned to face her.
"He... specifically requested me?" you asked cautiously, unsure of how to feel about that.
Penelope nodded, giving you a knowing smile. "Yep! He made sure to tell me that you should come. You know how rare it is for him to throw a party at all, so this is kind of a big deal." 
You bit your lip, thoughts swirling as you considered your options. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face Spencer yet. After all, the last time you saw him, he had confessed feelings you still didn’t know how to handle.
But Penelope, ever the supportive friend, saw the hesitation in your eyes. "You don’t have to decide right this second," she said softly, her playful tone turning gentle. "But… it might be good to see him. Just to clear the air, you know?"
You nodded slowly, not sure if you were ready to take that step yet. "Yeah... maybe," you murmured, your heart still racing at the thought.
You knew deep down that you couldn’t avoid Spencer forever. The thought of seeing him again made your stomach churn with a mix of nerves and excitement, but if he was specifically asking for you, then how could you say no? Still, doubt lingered. What if the time apart had given him the clarity you were worried about? What if he didn’t feel the same way anymore?
Those anxious thoughts accompanied you as you and Penelope decided to spend the afternoon shopping, hoping the distraction would calm your mind. Penelope was clearly enjoying herself, bouncing around from store to store with a contagious energy. 
As she pulled something off the rack, she grinned widely. "This is it!" she declared, holding it up for you to see. 
You raised an eyebrow, studying it. "You think so?"
Penelope nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! It’s perfect—it’s got your name written all over it. Trust me, you’ll knock everyone off their feet."
You weren’t entirely convinced. "It’s not too much?"
"Are you kidding? It’s just the right amount of everything. And besides," she added with a wink, "you need to make an impression. He won’t know what hit him."
You blushed at the thought, slipping into a dressing room to try it on. As you adjusted, you could hear Penelope’s voice through the door.
"Don’t overthink it, honey. Just remember: you’re amazing. Spencer needs to realize what he’s been missing."
When you finally stepped out, Penelope’s jaw dropped in exaggerated fashion, her eyes wide. "Oh my god," she gasped. "This is it. No contest."
You glanced at your reflection, feeling a flutter of self-assurance. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was the push you needed. "Okay, okay... I think you might be onto something."
"Of course I am!" Penelope grinned, spinning you around so you could get a full view from every angle. "Now, let’s keep going. We’re not done yet!"
The rest of the shopping trip was filled with laughter and banter. Penelope held up different items, trying to get a reaction out of you, while you playfully batted her hand away, insisting that she was going too far. Still, it felt good to be with her, to let the worry melt away in the moment.
As you browsed more, you found yourself voicing the nagging thoughts that had been sitting heavy in your chest all day. "What if he’s changed his mind?" you asked, keeping your tone light but feeling the weight of the question.
Penelope stopped what she was doing, turning to face you seriously. "Listen to me," she said, her tone soft but firm. "If Spencer has any sense, he’ll know exactly how incredible you are. And if he doesn’t, then he’s the one missing out. You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone."
You nodded, trying to let her words settle into your bones. "I guess... it’s just scary, you know?"
"I know," Penelope replied gently. "But no matter what, I’ve got your back. Now let’s finish this day off right. There’s still something special we need to pick up."
The final stop of the day had you both carefully considering your options. Penelope tossed out a few playful suggestions, making you laugh, but eventually, you found just the right thing.
"Perfect," Penelope said with a satisfied smile as she handed it to the cashier. "It’s thoughtful, it’s meaningful, and it’s going to leave him speechless."
By the time you both finished, you felt a little more prepared for whatever came next. You had everything you needed—and now, it was just a matter of seeing where things would go from here.
Arriving at Spencer's new house, your stomach was a tangled mess of knots. Penelope gently rubbed your back as she nudged you forward, sensing your nerves but knowing you needed to confront this moment. In your hands, you held a housewarming gift, trying to steady your breathing as you prepared to see Spencer again.
The door opened, and all the mental preparation in the world couldn't have prepared you for the sight of him. He stood there, looking impossibly handsome, dressed in his usual scholarly, somewhat quirky attire that made him so distinctly Spencer. You found yourself momentarily stunned, heart skipping a beat, as if you were seeing him for the first time.
Spencer seemed equally taken aback. His mouth parted slightly in awe as his eyes drank you in. Your fitted blouse clinging to your chest, unbuttoned just enough to show a tasteful hint of cleavage, the black mini skirt hugging your hips and revealing your legs completing the look. The way the blouse accentuated your figure made it impossible for Spencer to tear his eyes away, his gaze lingering longer than he intended.
For a moment, the two of you stood there, enveloped in a thick silence, the unspoken words and unresolved feelings filling the space between you. Spencer blinked, realizing he had been staring, and quickly cleared his throat, but the flush on his cheeks gave him away. You felt the tension between you both, a strange mix of unresolved emotions, curiosity, and something undeniably electric.
Penelope, sensing the awkwardness, gave you another gentle push, smiling brightly as if trying to break the spell that had momentarily frozen you both in place.
"Well, don’t just stand there!" Penelope chirped. "We’ve got a party to attend!"
Spencer stepped aside to let you in, his voice soft and a little breathless as he said, "I’m... glad you came." His eyes flickered back to yours, filled with something unreadable but intense.
"I wouldn’t miss it," you replied with a small smile, stepping into his home, feeling both the warmth of the occasion and the weight of the unspoken emotions between you, uncertain but not entirely unwelcome.
Taking his position as host, Spencer led you and Penelope through a quick tour of his new home, his voice soft and humble as he pointed out different rooms, clearly still getting used to having his own space. Penelope, ever the social butterfly, slipped away at some point without you noticing, leaving you and Spencer alone as you both ended up in his favorite room of the house: the sunroom.
The sunroom was bright and inviting, with natural light spilling in from every angle, making the space feel warm and open. You wandered in, taking it all in—the large windows framing the outside world like a painting, the cozy furniture perfectly arranged to invite someone to sit and relax. It was peaceful, the kind of place you could imagine spending hours reading or simply watching the world go by.
“This is my favorite room too,” Spencer said quietly, his voice almost a whisper as it floated in from the doorway where he leaned. He watched you with an expression so full of affection that it made your heart stutter. The golden light streaming into the room only seemed to enhance the gentleness in his gaze.
Startled by his sudden words, you turned to face him, realizing for the first time that Penelope was nowhere to be seen. You and Spencer were alone. The realization hit you all at once, causing you to clear your throat awkwardly, unsure of what to say next.
“Uh, yeah,” you finally managed, your voice a little shaky as you tried to regain your composure. “It’s really nice.”
Spencer’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes never leaving yours. The comfortable silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken emotions, the warmth of the sunroom matching the gentle warmth that began to stir in your chest.
Spencer took a small step further into the sunroom, the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath him barely audible. He was nervous too, you could tell by the way his fingers fidgeted with the cuff of his sweater, his eyes flickering from you to the view outside before settling back on you.
"I, uh…" he started, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "I've been meaning to thank you again. For everything, I mean. You've been… more understanding than I deserve."
There was something vulnerable in his tone, something that made your chest tighten. You opened your mouth to respond, to say something reassuring, but the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. His eyes were so intense, so full of unspoken feelings, and you could feel the walls around your composure beginning to crumble. Panic bubbled up inside you. The air in the room suddenly felt too thick.
Without thinking, you grabbed the neatly wrapped gift from where you had set it on a nearby table, holding it out toward him with both hands like a peace offering. "Here," you blurted out, a little too quickly. "I, uh, brought this for you. A housewarming gift."
Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard, his gaze dropping to the gift before he looked back up at you with a surprised smile. "You didn’t have to do that…"
"It’s nothing, really," you cut in, eager to steer the conversation away from anything too personal. "Just something small. I thought you might like it."
The room felt impossibly small now, and you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on you, causing your heart to race. You needed to get out before you said something you couldn’t take back.
"I should, um, check on Penelope," you said, your voice tight but polite as you took a step toward the door. "She’s probably wondering where I went."
Spencer opened his mouth, but whatever words he had were lost as you flashed him a quick, nervous smile and slipped out of the sunroom before he could stop you. You practically bolted down the hallway, your pulse racing, feeling like you had just escaped something far more dangerous than a simple conversation.
Spencer stood in the sunroom, which suddenly felt much colder without your presence. He shifted the box in his hands, letting out a heavy sigh. He had hoped that your coming today meant you were ready to talk, to finally address everything that had been left unsaid between you two.
With a steadying breath, he peeled back the wrapping and opened the box you had handed him. At first, confusion crossed his features—it looked like a simple journal or book with a plain, unmarked cover. But as he pushed the box aside and opened the front cover, his breath hitched in his throat.
It wasn’t just a journal.
You had somehow gotten him the manuscript for The Narrative of John Smith by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the very book his mother used to read to him. His fingers lightly traced the pages, overwhelmed by the sentiment and care behind your gift. His throat tightened, and his heart swelled with an emotion he hadn’t expected to feel so intensely.
He didn’t even know how you knew how much this book meant to him, but the fact that you did—it told him everything. You cared, you understood him, maybe even more than he realized. It wasn't just a thoughtful gift; it was a bridge, a sign that you felt something too.
A surge of determination rushed through him. Whatever hesitation you had, whatever walls were still standing between you both, Spencer was ready to break through them. He was going to win you over, not just because he wanted to, but because he knew you felt something for him as well.
And he wasn’t going to let you slip away again.
The housewarming party had turned out to be everything Spencer had hoped for—filled with warmth, laughter, and the people he cared about most. It was a beautiful reflection of the new chapter in his life, surrounded by his closest friends in a space that finally felt like home.
Even though you'd spent much of the day slipping in and out of conversations, avoiding too much direct interaction with him, Spencer didn’t mind. He was just grateful you were there, moving through his house like you belonged, even if the occasional flutter of nerves kept you at a distance. 
He had faith now—faith that when the time was right, everything between you would be resolved. The gift you gave him spoke louder than any conversation could. You understood him, cared for him, and that was enough for now.
At least, he thought it would be.
As the afternoon started winding down, Spencer caught a glimpse of you hugging Penelope goodbye at the door. Your roommate was leaving, but you weren’t. His heart skipped a beat. Did that mean you were staying?
He stood, leaning casually against the doorframe of the sunroom once again, watching as you said your goodbyes. Hope surged in his chest—hope that maybe you weren’t just staying for the evening, but for something more. Forever would be nice, though he’d settle for today, just for now.
When you turned back toward him, Spencer straightened, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. This could be it, the moment he’d been waiting for, the conversation that had hung in the air between you both since that day a month ago. He wasn’t going to rush it, but he wouldn’t let this chance slip away either.
You walked toward him slowly, a quiet smile on your face. Spencer’s eyes softened as you approached, and the air seemed to shift, thickening with unspoken words.
“Well, looks like it’s just us,” you said softly, the corner of your lips curling up.
“Yeah,” Spencer replied, his voice steady but his heart racing. “Just us.”
There was no rush, no pressure, but the electricity between you both was undeniable. Spencer knew then—he would wait as long as it took. Because you were worth it. Every second of waiting, every quiet conversation, and every meaningful glance was leading to this.
He didn’t need forever to be decided tonight, but he was ready to start.
You stood in front of him, the soft hum of the house in the background as everything else seemed to fade away. Spencer felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mixture of hope, nervousness, and something that resembled excitement. He watched you carefully, his eyes lingering on the little details, like how your hair fell softly, and how the quiet smile on your lips seemed both tentative and inviting.
“So,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence, “I figured I’d stick around for a little longer. Penelope made it seem like there was more fun to be had.”
Spencer chuckled lightly, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, a small nervous habit he couldn’t shake even around you. “More fun, huh? Well, I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, your grin widening a little, “I doubt you could disappoint anyone, Spencer.”
That simple sentence seemed to make him falter for a moment. He was often too hard on himself, and hearing you say something so kind with such certainty sent a wave of warmth through him.
He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he admitted, his voice a little quieter now, like he was letting you in on a secret. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come. And… I wasn’t sure if you were ready to talk.”
You met his gaze, the truth behind his words settling between you both. You knew this conversation was inevitable, and avoiding it wouldn’t solve anything. But now, standing here with Spencer, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the gentle way he held himself, you realized that maybe you were ready—ready to at least try.
“I wasn’t sure either,” you confessed softly, looking down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I needed time to think, and space, I guess. It’s just… complicated.”
“I understand,” he said quickly, not wanting to push you. “I didn’t want to force anything or make you feel uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t, not really,” you reassured him. “It’s just that… Spencer, you were vulnerable when you said all those things. I wanted to make sure you knew what you were feeling. That it wasn’t just because of what happened with Eli.”
Spencer took a slow breath, nodding as he listened carefully to your words. His expression was thoughtful, the gears turning in his mind as he considered how to respond. “I’ve thought about that a lot, actually,” he said finally, his voice steady but soft. “You were right—I was vulnerable. And at first, I wasn’t sure if what I felt was real or if I was just projecting because I was hurt.”
You swallowed, waiting for him to continue.
“But after some time… after having space and thinking about everything,” he continued, taking a small step closer to you, “I realized that what I feel for you has been there for longer than I admitted to myself. Even when I was with Eli, even before everything fell apart—I thought about you, about how much I enjoyed being around you. And it wasn’t just because of the breakup.”
Your heart sped up at his words, and you felt that familiar tug in your chest. His honesty hit you deeply, and for the first time, you could see clearly that Spencer wasn’t just reacting to his recent heartache. His feelings for you were real, and that terrified and thrilled you all at once.
“I just don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. “I don’t want to be a rebound, or something you regret later.”
Spencer’s gaze softened even more, and he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. The gesture was tentative, a quiet question that you answered by not pulling away. “You’re not a rebound,” he promised, his voice full of certainty. “You’re someone I care about deeply, and I would never want to rush or push you into something you’re not ready for. But I need you to know that this… what I feel for you… it’s real.”
You stood there, holding his hand as the weight of his words settled into your heart. You didn’t need all the answers tonight, but for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe around him. The tension that had been building between you for the past month seemed to melt away, leaving only the possibility of something new, something hopeful.
Instead of answering Spencer, you stepped closer, the setting sun filtering through the windows creating a soft glow around both of you. With gentle hands, you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing lightly across his cheeks. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as you gazed at him with a tenderness he had only ever dreamed of. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but in the most beautiful way possible.
For a moment, you just stood there, looking at him—really looking at him—like he was the only person in the world. And to Spencer, you were. His heart raced, the moment feeling both surreal and intimate.
Slowly, you both leaned in, the distance between you shrinking until your lips met in the sweetest, most tender kiss. It was soft, slow, and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world. His lips felt plush and warm against yours, the taste of him lingering on your tongue, and you realized that this—this kiss—was something you never wanted to end.
For Spencer, the world seemed to fall away. Everything he had ever felt or wanted to feel was wrapped up in this single moment. It was a kiss filled with the promise of everything he had hoped for, everything he had dreamed of with you.
When you finally pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the soft, sunlit space. He let out a soft, contented sigh, his heart still racing as if it was trying to keep up with the emotions flooding him.
“So, uh…” he whispered with a lopsided, boyish smile, trying to catch his breath, “want to help me finish unpacking some of these books?” He motioned toward the stacks of boxes still lining the walls of the sunroom, his attempt to return to normalcy almost endearing.
You laughed, the tension breaking as the moment turned light again. “I suppose I could lend a hand. I’ve always been pretty good at organizing things.”
Spencer grinned, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Oh, we’ll see about that. I have a very particular system.”
“Of course you do,” you teased, following him over to the boxes, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.
And as you started to help him unpack, the future didn’t seem as daunting anymore. You weren’t sure where things would go from here, but for the first time, you felt ready to find out. With Spencer by your side, you were ready to see what the future held.
The low hum of the bar filled the air, laughter and clinking glasses blending into a soothing background noise. You sat nestled beside Spencer in one of the cozy booths, the soft, amber lighting casting a warm glow over the two of you. His arm was draped around your shoulders in that effortless, natural way he always did now. 
Your head rested gently on his shoulder, your body relaxed against him as if you'd always belonged there. His thumb traced absentminded circles on your arm, a quiet gesture of affection, something he'd picked up over the months of being together. It felt like second nature now. Every so often, you could feel him lean his head against yours, brushing his lips against your temple in the sweetest way.
"You okay?" Spencer’s voice was soft, a private sound meant just for you amidst the noise of the busy bar. He tilted his head to look down at you, his brown eyes twinkling with affection, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah, just… really happy," you murmured, your eyes closed, savoring the feeling of being wrapped in his warmth. "I could stay like this forever."
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you. "That could be arranged," he teased, tightening his arm around you just a bit, as if to make sure you knew he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.
You lifted your head slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There was something about the way Spencer looked at you—like you were his entire world, like he still couldn’t quite believe you were there with him, loving him as much as he loved you.
You remembered, long ago now, seeing Spencer at a bar, and the pang of jealousy you'd felt watching Eli get to kiss him. Back then, it seemed so far away—an impossible thought that you'd be sitting here with him now, his arm around you, his love pouring into every glance he gave you. Now, all those insecurities and doubts had melted away, replaced by the warmth of his affection, by the strength of what you had together.
You realized you'd been staring at him, love in your eyes so obvious that Spencer raised his eyebrows and pulled a funny face, the kind that always made you giggle, light and carefree. That was the thing about him—he knew exactly how to make you laugh, even in the quietest, most tender moments.
He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a little as if he couldn’t resist touching you. "What’s on your mind, beautiful?" His voice was soft, curious, as though he could sense the depth of your thoughts but wanted to hear them from your lips.
"You," you replied simply, your heart swelling with the truth of it. It was always him—always had been, always would be.
Spencer’s heart felt like it was about to burst as he heard those words. His gaze softened, his hand slipping from your hair to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with tender care. "I love you," he said, the words gentle but filled with so much certainty.
A soft, dopey smile spread across your face as you leaned closer. "I love you more," you whispered, teasing but sincere.
And with a deep kiss, soft and full of promise, you felt something shift, as though forever had just sealed itself in that moment. In his arms, with his love surrounding you, you knew that there was nothing more you could ever need.
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tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @eliscannotdance 
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hi!! Hope you’re having a good day - I was wondering if my (VERY) new blog of my oc Meiko could be added to the database? The account is @meiko-mako and she’s a daughter of Hermes :]
sorry if this isn’t the proper way to ask !!
HI MEIKO HI MEIKO
LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO EVERYONE
@basically-a-god this is Robin shes kind of a bitch (and my favorite sister) but shes cool. she has a boyfriend who sucks (is also my favorite)
@madson-of-hermes-notluke this is maddox maddox is also new and sleeps next to me (sorry u cant sleep next to me cause maddox already is)
@the-better-castellan this is Lucy they're the coolest!!! and they have a cool robot arm and sometimes they're scary but not really its fine
@wivesandwallets this is Eli eli is super nice but you have to be nice first but thats okay
@notfuckingshortening this is crisco hes dating a god and he thinks i dont know but i do cause im not stupid
@fin-the-child-of-hermes THIS IS FIN FIN HAS THE COOLEST NAME EVER and I like fin a lot you should talk to fin
@estraava this is Estra and i havent heard from her in a while and that makes me sad....
AND I'M DEAN @itsprobablydean WELCOME TO THE CABIN HI WE LOVE YOU
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yuellii · 10 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒; if you could just say them, she thinks she may lose herself in the blinding eclipse of the moon.
Whether or not you intended to instill these emotions in her heart, you’ve done so at a moment right as she’s found herself in the spotlight again. But when you stand there, bouquet of roses in your arms that were tied and arranged just for her, she can’t help the familiar sense of aching longing that chained her down for five hundred years.
“I love your voice,” you tell her kindly, and she freezes in her stance when the first three words run from your mouth. There is an unwelcome disappointment that settles in her chest once the rest of your sentence registers, and she can’t help but feel disgusted in herself, as if she’s exploiting your kindness towards her. It’s in such light she feels like the most terrible friend in the world, one who still craved for more even after you did the the nicest for her: from giving flowers after her shows, to complimenting her more genuinely than anyone has before.
“Thank you.” Perhaps it wasn’t fair to you—the small, forced smile she attempted to give. She was more than sure you could see the drought in her eyes, a stifled sadness that ringed her irises like the surface of the ocean. So long did the waters crave the reflection of the moon; And, so long did her heart crave the sound of merely three words once spoken upon your lips.
But her heart stops when you lean in to gift her the flowers, eyelashes fluttering shut as she feels a fleeting kiss to the skin of her cheek. And that’s when she nearly crumbles from her knees, body leaning forward so instinctively to chase you as you lean away. There’s a smile in your eyes that leaves her starstruck whilst you bid your farewells—and the stammers of her heart almost curse you for leaving her like this.
She couldn’t control the squeal-turned-into-a-yell that left her throat once you shut the door.
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y’all can yew hear that it’s the sound of my brainrot yelling “BRR ELY YOURE INSANE STOP THINKING AB FURINA”
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nc-vb · 1 year
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𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝
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it is said that distance makes the heart grow fonder. instead, it only proves to make the water levels rise a few millimeters.
pairing -> neuvillette x gn!reader
warnings -> sfw, sad neuvi & reader, smooching
notes -> reader's position is a non-canon one
character mentions -> lady furina, fontaine npcs, non-canon melusine characters
wc -> 2.1k
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It wasn’t so often that the paths of you and your lover could so seamlessly cross.
As one might assume, governing a nation is not a walk in the park, nor is it a part-time position. It is a twenty-four-seven, midnight-to-midnight, no-matter-how-small-the-crisis job that someone has to take responsibility for— with Monsieur Neuvillette, the Chief Justice, leading the charge of each court proceeding and Lady Furina as its grandest witness, and you, the Maison Ordalie's Directeur Général, helping them to uphold Fontaine’s values and protecting its honour from outside the marbled walls of the Opera Epiclese, Fontaine is a tightly-run ship that seldom allows for its men to enjoy much free time.
Though when it did, finally exiting the realm of your job responsibilities only then meant having to catch up on your neglected home responsibilities— tackling the towers of only partially rinsed dishes; taking out the trash you just knew would be stinking up your foyer since you’d put it there three days ago (which had been the last time you’d even been inside your home); rewashing the load of laundry you’d run out of time to hang up to dry and now was, most likely, moulding from being left in basket, still damp. Ah, and there’s probably so much more you’d been forgetting about.
This cyclic routine of yours had become nauseating a long time ago, only proving capable of transfiguring your already sour mood into something brazenly foul. Typically, there were very few things to exist that could improve it again, but the soft, muffled knocking on your front door by one of your sweet Melusine neighbours when she realized you’d finally returned home, fortunately, is one of those few things.
More often than not, she would bake once the weekend began, knowing you to be around at least long enough to be able to consume perhaps one of her newly learned confections. Somedays, you’d even been lucky enough to sit and enjoy them together whilst enjoying the views from under your shared garden’s gazebo. Being that you lived on the first floor of a three-floored pied-à-terre with three other Melusine living above you, who had also been found lucky to have much more manageable lifestyles, they often cared for the plants of the garden when you could not.
Even luckier for you, though, was having such kind neighbours that would go out of their way to take care of those aforementioned chores for you. Garden tended; garbage bags mysteriously vanished from the inside stoop; dishes sparkling clean and put away in their respective cupboards; laundry thought a lost cause having been hung up, dried, and folded, awaiting your return for them to be returned to their drawers— none of this had been you. Elsie, your second floor neighbour, had been the culprit, you learn, having rounded up her sisters Elie and Eloie two days prior to your return to surprise you.
“Have you seen Monsieur Neuvillette lately?” Elsie inquires, looking up to you from her place on your stoop. When you step aside to let her in, she shakes her head, lavender-coloured ears whipping about. “I won’t be staying. I only came to say hello and to give these to you.”
“Oh, I see,” you say, accepting the circular tin she raises toward you. Cracking it open a few inches, you smile at the soft treats. “Madeleines! Thank you, Elzie. And, to answer your question, no… I haven’t seen him lately… not even for work.”
“You’re quite welcome. Please find time to share them with the Monsieur today, then. Sedene mentioned he looked restless this morning.”
Without missing a beat, your heart skips one of its own, and your expression twists habitually guiltily. You know full well your absence from him, and vice versa, isn’t to be helped, and that the two of you have had this same conversation many times over. But it never proves to help whenever someone else points out either of your miseries.
You’d always thought the Palais Mermonia to be particularly cold, in company’s sense. It never mattered that it was always full of people, of employees, and even of Lady Furina’s raucous, nails-on-a-chalkboard cackle of a laugh, because you knew its Chief Justice much too well. In spite of his assurances that he would be alright, mind occupied by having to organize new cases and sort out the old ones, it wouldn’t be too long of a time later that you found the skies overcast, and yourself drenched by a sudden downpour.
You supposed, after saying your farewells to Elsie, locking your front door, and making your way to the other end of the Court of Fontaine, that today would be no different. Of course, you remembered to carry your parasol on you this time, accompanied by the tin of fresh-baked madeleines you promised Elsie to eat up. Today, the sky was shining blue, quite literally only minutes ago. So, either something sad or distressing has crossed his path, or, he’d been feeling sentimental again, because it’s raining again.
At the very least, you hope the cause for it to be the latter. This way, it can easily be remedied by you appearing before him, rather than him being consumed by the details of a case so heavily, and for an unspecified period of time. And there have been too many of these as of late that compared to last year’s weather, one might consider the possibility of that prophecy coming true just a little sooner.
Clutching the cookies tighter to you and keeping a firm grip on the handle of your parasol, you hasten across the bridge of the Court Region Waterway untoward the Palais Mermonia, greeting Bruneau and Liath and Plessia as you pass. The main doors are heavy, but even with your arms full, you manage to pry one of them open enough to enter the building.
You don’t both to carry your umbrella with you — it would just be yet another mess the building’s staff would have to trail after you for to clean — and instead shove it into the corner to let it drip there, telling the one guard that you would return for it, and them saluting you in acknowledgement.
Inside the Palais Mermonia has always been a plethora of people, staff and guards and visitors alike, but it is as you’d said— there’s a certain degree of emptiness to it that unsettles you whenever you visit here. Perhaps the grave amount of case files that sat in the archives surrounding Monsieur Neuvillette’s office cast such a dreary spell over the place; having been the one to compile many of them, yourself, for his records, you know firsthand just how dark some of their contents had been— to have to pass those off and share them with your lover had been your major grievance for your position. There’d been nothing you hated more than sitting in during his readings and seeing his expression change from the joy of having you appear to him, to the rage and sorrow of taking in the details of a new case. In those moments, you made sure to hold him a little tighter, a little closer, and speak just a little sweeter to him, a little softer.
The rain would, eventually, subside.
You push open the door to his office as gently as possible, and shut it just as carefully so as not to startle him. Without looking first to confirm, you know that he sits at his desk, pouring over the day’s files and records while it pours outside. His stoicism masked the obvious, though at least, this had been to you only— something was weighing heavily enough on his mind that it’d begun to affect the weather outside. Spending enough time with the man made this easy to tell.
“Neuvillette,” you softly call to him when he’d yet to look up. He jerks slightly in his seat, stiff shoulders losing their tension upon recognizing your voice, and the corner of his lips rise before his eyes can even meet yours.
“My love.”
If having you appear in a room filled with such disheartening unkindness is his relief, yours had always been the advent of a smile on Neuvillette’s face. A rare glimpse of the peace you often find yourself daydreaming over while away, the rush of pure joy you feel at the sight of your lover relishing your presence is nearly akin to the blessing of the gods— you only embrace him tightly enough and hope this feeling reaches him.
Nose pressed into the side of your head, hands and arms cradling you almost impossibly close to him, he breathes you in as deeply as physically possible— yes, his gesture promises.
You raise your chin from his chest and peer up at him, grin lazed and tired but pleased all the same.
“You were finally released from your duties?”
“If it were easy to delegate them to my juniors, it might’ve taken less time to escape,” you muse, hands sliding down his robes to claim his hands in yours— he squeezes them gently, grateful. “No one seems to know how to write a proper report anymore; I feel like I’m grading homework.” Neuvillette laments at the sudden shift in your expression, its complete opposite serving to dim the light in your eyes. By the way your grip tightens beneath his fingers, he supposes it must have little to do with your subordinates, after all.
“It’s… been raining for so long now,” you mumble into him, cookie tin forgotten atop his desk. “I tried to hurry to you, I-I…”
Neuvillette’s hand shifts along one of yours, quick to fit thin, nimble fingers in between your trembling ones. He lifts it, and presses your palm and fingertips into the smooth, porcelain coolness of his cheek— few words are found necessary, you’d both once agreed, as he’d always been a man of sterling gestures over forced sentimentality. In each glance, each touch, each curve of his lips upward, his vehemence never went unnoticed; it’d simply been his brand of love— demure and chaste, but abundant. There’d been no questioning his intention.
“I would sooner give up my position if it meant I could stay at your side at all times, if it meant you wouldn’t cry so much. If it meant you wouldn’t suffer alone.” Neuvillette sighs, a would-be defeated sound if not for remembering who he was standing with. “I… feel useless on days like these when I’m not with you.”
“Justice cannot relent so long as villainy works around the clock. It is our sworn duty to see such justice prevail, after all.” Neuvillette swipes a thumb over your lip, and subconsciously, you lean into his palm almost delightedly. “And you have done so beautifully, and without malice. Every word written in those reports from your juniors, while, written juvenilely, speak of your fairness. Your impartiality. Your ability to see both the truth and the good in all.” He turns his hand, pressing his lips into your palm. “It is admirable. It is my pride for you. It is why, as much as I wish you could stay at my side, as you said, I hope you can see the value and honour you bring in helping to protect Fontaine. I can’t imagine many else doing so well as you do.”
You raise your free hand back up to his chest, and push. A fraction of a single second is spent wide-eyed and confused until Neuvillette’s legs hit one of the many couches within the four walls of his office, and he is forced off-balanced into its plush. Your other hand gone unrelinquished, you fall with him, knees parted to either side of his and dipped deep into the cushion; Neuvillette’s breath hitches unnoticeably, yet at your sudden embolden proximity, his pale cheeks burn with vermillion.
“I’m supposed to be comforting you, you know,” your murmur.
A kiss to his temple, to the swell atop his cheek, to the button of his nose, and to the cleft of his lip— you lower yourself into his lap, parted lips dropping to slot between his and hands rising to thread into his strands of falling starlight, pulling him ever closer into you. It’s not enough, simply consuming him. You only wish to drown his sorrows, by whatever means necessary and however possible. If this means only having mere moments to appear before him, to deliver him sweets and treats of various kinds — not including yourself, of course — and holding him as tenderly as you do now for what seconds you must have left before having to leave again—
Tongue posed at his lower lip, your gaze is brought to the side and through the glass of the window. The rain. It stopped.
“And I can promise… you’re doing a fine job of it, my love.”
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retrogradedreaming · 2 years
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Forgot exactly how uncomfy the gore in G/oT used to make me before I desensitized to it a bit and am somehow surprised to run into the same thing with H/ot/D........
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