#lesley smith juniment fanfic

[deepcreekvultures-writing]

"Hipsophobia"

Lesley Smith-Juniment x Gn!Reader

Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 4.9k

Content Warning: Fear of heights, mild panic-attack, smut, oral (male receiving)

A/N: Writing smut as an Asexual is hard, sorry if it's not very good.

Summary: Lesley has been begging to take you on a hot-air balloon ride for a little more than 3 years. As much as you hated saying no to him, your fear of heights always stopped you from taking him up on his offer. But luckily for Lesley, you can’t resist when he pouts like that.

=======

You thought Lesley was awfully cute, even from 30 feet away. Lost in his own little world, surrounded by the big open space, bracketed in by large oak trees. You stood, arms crossed, the tall grass tickling your ankles as you watched him set up his prized hot air balloon.

Even from this far away, you could tell that he was humming to himself as he twisted a canister into place. He had been all smiles all day, gushing over how excited he was to test out his new balloon. He holds the opening of the balloon open, igniting the burner and pulling it up as the hot air floods in.

He knew what he was doing, that much was obvious, he had been taking balloons up for longer than you’d known him. Still, watching that huge flame so close to his pretty face twisted your stomach. Plus, he had almost dropped the canister on his foot earlier. 

Luckily he was wearing his construction boots rather than his birkenstocks. As much as you thought Lesley was perfect, you had a few qualms with his fashion sense. 

Unluckily, he was wearing these thick, chunky, brown gloves, covering up his perfect, model-esque hands.

You finally approach, keeping quiet as you do so, hands sliding onto his shoulders, up his neck and over his eyes. He completely freezes, hunching in on himself. Lifting onto your toes to whisper in his ear, you let the tension settle before speaking.

“Hey there, sunshine, what’re you up to?” You greet, whispering softly as you try not to laugh. 

Lesley relaxes, letting out a groan, “Do you have to do that? You scared the shit out of me” He lets a soft laugh follow, turning to face you. You giggle, the way he curses always sounds so awkward. It was cute. Your hands gently slide down to his shoulders as he spins around, settling just below his collarbones. 

“Yes I do have to do that, it’s my job, though I am grossly underpaid.” A smile gathers at the corners of your mouth, reaching your eyes as you gaze up into Lesley’s calm face. 

“Oh, are you?” He chuckles, his face glowing in the soft evening light. Underneath your palms, you could feel the steady thrum of his heart.

“Definitely, oh- and undervalued. I don’t think you appreciate me Mr. Smith- Juniment.” Lifting a hand, you poked into his shoulder accusingly. His toothy grin widens at your teasing, his head tilting slightly to the side and he lets out a long exhale. 

“Do you want to go up with me?” He asks, eyes shining brightly in the light of the sun, his skin glistening around the perimeter of his face. He slips off his gloves, tossing them at the basket behind him. They hit the ground with a soft thud.

Your face scrunches, “In that death machine? No thanks, I’ll pass.” though you can’t stay like that for long as Lesley’s smile falters.

“It’s not a death machine, actually, I’m sure you’d like it if you gave it a shot.” He pouts a little, his face slightly flushed in the early summer heat. You frown, your resolve bending a little as the corners of his eyes soften.

“Les, you know I’m scared of heights.” Your voice is a lot gentler this time around. The fabric of his plaid button up is surprisingly soft under your touch.

He frowns, pressing his lips together slightly in thought. “I’ll be with you”

“Well, then I would be worried about your impending doom on top of mine.” You wiggle your fingers, tapping them against his clavicle with the soft pursing of your lips.

Lesley watches you as you think, your eyes cast down to his boots. His gaze is soft, a small frown playing at his lips. He had been begging you to go on the balloon with him since you started working as his client relations coordinator three years ago. Your fear of heights always pushed you from taking him up in his invitation, though you didn’t have any issue listening to him gush about the rides after the fact. 

You wanted to go, you really did. But being suspended hundreds of feet in the air in nothing more than a wicker basket?

No fucking way. 

“Listen, Lesley, I would love to go but-”

“You’re coming.” He interrupts, lifting his hands and placing them on top of yours, stilling your nervous tapping.

“I’m sorry?” Tilting your head and furrowing your eyebrows, you watch as he flounders a bit, looking around at the scenery before settling his gaze back onto you.

“I- well- well, I think you need to get over it.” Your eyebrows raise at that, eyes widening at his bluntness, “Not that- not that I think that your fear isn’t valid or anything! God no- no, I just think that you might be a little too stuck in your head about this?”

Even when you should be offended he finds himself firmly planted in your good graces. You couldn’t help but soften a little more, your resolve cracking at his caring nature. You had noticed in the past few months that Lesley had been a lot better at advocating for himself. 

And apparently he was pretty good at advocating for you, too.

“I guess so, but I feel like this might be a little overboard for getting over my fear.” You glance over at the death-coated balloon standing tall behind the flushed man in front of you.

“But if you do this, everything else will seem so much smaller.” Lesley’s voice sounded like a chorus of bells, his logic was wishy-washy, but he was just so Lesley. 

So perfect. 

“I’m very glad that you’re not my therapist,” You chuckle, trying to ignore the way his thumbs brush against the sides of your hands. He laughs, eyes closing and all, and you break. Your posture slackening as you melt under the rays of his smile. He looked like the break of sunlight through the clouds of a thunderstorm.

Pouting a bit, you sigh, your head drooping to look at his boots again. He stays silent, letting you mull it over as you count the scuffs on the edge of the tan suede. Your core temperature rises as his body heat flows into you, your hands trapped between his chest and his all-too warm hands.

“Okay, okay, we can go,” 

His face lights up, somehow shining even brighter as the sun starts to cascade towards the horizon in the west. 

“However,” You ball up the front of his shirt in your hands, “If anything goes wrong, you bring us back down immediately.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He nods vigorously, his hair falling into his face sloppily. He pulls away from you, his hands lingering on your wrists before he turns, grabbing his gloves off the ground. 

Lesley slips the thick gloves on, covering up his slender fingers. You almost whimper, frowning deeply at the sight.

He turns on the burner, the flame large and in charge, he waves you over. He had explained how the balloons worked to you before, but this time, he helped you into the wicker basket, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. 

He hops in with you, hauling the sandbags into the basket before turning to you. “Are you ready?”

You press yourself against the wall of the basket, clearing your throat and shaking your head both yes and no at the same time. Lesley laughs, and it soothes you for just long enough that he can crank the burner without much fuss from you. The hot air floats into the balloon and lifts it off of the ground steadily. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, Lesley, no- No, Lesley, I can’t!” You yelp, sliding down the wall of the basket, looking up at him with wide eyes. You press your hands into the basket, clawing at the material. He crouches in front of you in the enclosed space, putting his hands on your arms, gently guiding you to stand. 

His arm slides around your waist, holding you secure against him as your knees wobble. His gloved hand flattening around the curve of your ribs. 

“You’re okay, we’re fine.” He whispers, leaning forward and pressing his cheek against yours to whisper into your ear. His touch is muffled by the thick gloves, but his hand slides against your back in an attempt to sooth you. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” You grumble, your arms tossed around his shoulders. It took everything in your power to not strangle him in your grip. 

As the ground got further away, your face started to tingle, a wash of numbness falling over you. Behind the cage of your ribs, your heart hammers in your chest, heavy breaths falling from your lips as you watch the terrain drift away. 

“Lesley…” Your voice wobbles, the full weight of your body leaning into him. He responds in kind, adjusting himself to try and hold you up. Your hands claw at his back through his shirt, your panting breaths hitting his neck as your head swims. 

You were going to die. The balloon was going to pop and you were going to fall and you were going to die.

And Lesley.

No, no, no, no. Lesley can’t die, he’s perfect, he needs to live a full life and find someone that treats him right, and have a gajillion kids because there is no possible future that he would not be the world's best father. 

You tighten your grip around him, your thoughts going a mile a minute. They were mostly about Lesley: how to keep him safe in the impending crash, his future kids, the perfect world where you both survive and you have his kids, and the balloon being set on fire. 

The balloon is on fire and you’re dying.

The balloon is on fire and Lesley is dying.

Tears well up in your eyes and you choke out a sob. Lesley’s arm tightens around you, his other hand letting go of the trigger on the burner. He uses his teeth to pull off the fabric glove, securing his arm around you before doing the same with his other hand.

“Hey, hey, listen to me, we’re fine, everything is fine.” Lesley whispers, cupping the back of your head and manually turning you to look away from the ground. Holding you in place, Lesley looks you in the eyes, repeating his reassurance.

“Lesley, I’m scared, this is fucking terrifying.” You rush, your voice and octave shy of a shriek. He smiles in response, cupping your cheek with his warm hand, unobstructed by those gloves you were learning to hate.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not leaving, you're fine, we’re perfectly safe.” His soft voice only served to keep the tears flowing. He uses his thumbs to brush them away just for them to be replaced moments later. His sweetness was pushing you over the edge. 

“If you’re lying and you die, I’m going to kill you” You sob, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Lesley chuckles at your threat, leaning his cheek on your head as he attempts to take one of your arms off of him. It takes a second before he can successfully pry your iron grip off of his shirt. 

Slipping his fingers around your wrist, Lesley guides your hand to rest on his chest, your palm flattening just over his heart. The steady rhythm is soft, only slightly elevated in comparison to your racing heart. 

“Feel that? We aren’t in danger, I’m not scared.” Lesley says, his voice slightly muffled by your hair, “I’ll let you know if you need to be scared,” 

He holds you flush against him, his hand flattened around your waist. He takes slow deep breaths, coaxing you through breathing exercises. Eventually he slides your hand up to his neck, pressing your fingers against his artery instead. You could feel the thrum of his heart with more clarity now, the vein pushing against your fingers with every steady pump of his heart.

Your body slowly relaxed into his, he was incredibly warm, and his steady, rock solid confidence in your safety gave you the comfort you needed to really try and reign yourself in. 

Your heart syncs up with Lesley’s, the rhythm steady and strong. A long silence follows as you focus on the thrumming of his heart against your fingers. Lifting your head, you take in the scenery, there’s a soft tension in your jaw as you peer over the edge of the basket. The ground was far below, the trees just clusters of vibrant green. You could see Austin not too far off, tall buildings breaking up the flat ground below.

His pulse against your fingers keeps you grounded. A soft breeze brushes over your tear stained cheeks, chilling your skin. Clouds blanket the sky, drifting calmly as the sun begins to kiss the horizon.

“I told you you’d like it.” He grins, his eyes locked on your face rather than the picturesque vision around him. 

“Oh shut up…” You grumble, watching a small cluster of birds circle around each other in the distance. Lesley’s smile softens as he takes in your face, flushed from your crying, blanketed in the warm glow of the setting sun. 

Your fingers adjust against his pulse, the touch gentle as you slide them a little further up, resting just beneath the underside of his jaw. He inhales sharply at the feeling.

“Y’know… I could never find the heartbeat in my wrist.” Lesley breaks the silence, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. His smile is as bright and toothy as ever.

“Seriously?” You turn to look at him again, your eyebrows furrowing a bit, though the tension melts out of your jaw. 

He nods, letting go of you slowly and showing you his wrists. He attempts to find the vein, fumbling around with his fingers, making you laugh. 

“Here,” You gently slide your hands along his arm, one hand moving to cup the underside of his wrist, “It’s right next to your tendon,” the pads of your fingers slide along the tendon in the center of his wrist, making him jolt slightly as a chill runs up his spine. Settling your fingers next to his tendon, you apply a little pressure, smiling as you find it. He shuffles uncomfortably, pressing his lips together firmly in order to muffle the soft noise that bubbles up at the back of his throat.

Lesley follows your lead, pressing his fingers too far up his wrist. You correct him gently, placing your fingers over his and guiding him back down to the correct spot. 

“Thank you, Lesley.” You whisper, looking up at him. He smiles in response, shaking his head lightly. The sun begins to set further into the horizon, casting a bronze hue over his features.

There was no mistaking how gorgeous Lesley was on any given day, but in light of a sunset he was a whole other form of beautiful. The warm light shines over the apex of his flushed cheekbones, sinking into darkness within the hollows of his cheeks. His lips, soft looking and pink, are illuminated stunningly by the sun’s farewell. 

As you gaze at him, your fingers still pressed against his pulse, you could feel it quicken. Your anxiety rears its head and you look around the balloon, the absence of ground starting to freak you out as you realize how high up you are. 

Lesley, takes your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “We’re fine, what’s wrong?” He pouts, worried that he had done something to upset you. His thumbs slide over your cheekbones, wiping away any spare tears.

“Sorry- Sorry… your heart rate picked up and I was worried that something happened.” You chuckle dryly, taking a few deep breaths. Tilting your head a little into the warmth of his palms

He looks guilty, chewing his bottom lip slightly before speaking “No, sorry, I just- I just realized something is all.” 

Lesley’s eyes are soft and glistening, his cheeks tinted with more than just the sun’s kiss, and his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip. Heat pools in your stomach at the sight of him, his messy hair falling over his face wildly.

You lift your hand tentatively, gently pushing his hair back. Attempting to tame the wildness of his hair, your fingers slide against his scalp. In the end, you just push it back, mumbling something about him growing it out.

His hands return to your sides, his touch light as his fingers settle into the curve of your waist. Bringing yourself towards him, the tip of your nose brushes against his lightly. Lesley lets out a shuddering breath at the proximity, his large hands sliding down to envelope the apex of your hips.

Lesley was perfect. In every conceivable way. And god he smelled so good.

He tilts his head a bit, letting his lips ghost over yours. You could feel his breath wafting over yours, shuddering and uneven. Your body gravitates into him, hands sliding along the sides of his face lightly, your nose pressing into his cheek. 

The fact that you were a little more than a thousand feet in the air couldn’t possibly bother you now. Your hands slide down his neck, cradling the base of his skull. In your peripherals the sky behind him is blanketed in a pinky-orange hue, clouds breezing across the scape slowly.

Growing impatient, you finally pull him closer, meeting his lips in a short delicate kiss. It doesn’t last long, and you could feel him chasing the feeling of your lips as you pull away. Lesley pouts a bit, his eyes big and round as they look into yours with a silent plea. You couldn’t help but smile, his warmth lingering on your skin. The heat pooling in your stomach simmers into a white hot desire to kiss him again. It’s almost as if he can read your mind when his arm hooks snugly around the small of your back and he finds your mouth again, capturing it within his. 

Lesley’s lips were every bit as soft and warm as you imagined, fitting against yours perfectly. All the years of longing glances and pent up sexual frustration pours out as you kiss him. His hands press firmly into your back as he pulls a long breath in through his nose. His shoulders droop as he melts into you, your chests pressing together as he holds you as close as humanly possible.

Your perfect, beautiful, gentle Lesley kisses with a surprising amount of force. His mouth moves against yours in an intense rhythm, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip as he envelopes your mouth in his. You sigh into his kiss, and his hands travel up your sides. Bracketing your face in his warm palms. He nudges your jaw open with his thumb, sliding the pad of his finger along the flesh of your bottom lip. 

Your hands find their way down his torso, sliding against his plaid shirt before hitting the hem of his jeans. You hook your fingers around his belt loops, keeping his hips up against you. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth, sliding his own against it. He breaks the kiss briefly, huffing out a few breaths against your face before diving back in. You let out a muffled yelp as he crashes back into you, your eyes opening for a moment before fluttering closed once more.

Your fingers trail around his waist band, tugging on the loops a little. Your thumb circles the silver buckle of his belt, sliding down the front seam of his jeans. Lesley chokes out a moan, the force of it breaking the kiss. Rather than let him pull away from you, you trail your lips down his chin. 

Leaving hot open mouth kisses down the center of his throat, your teeth gently graze over his Adam's apple. The tip of your tongue circles it twice before dipping down to the start of his collarbones. 

You trace the outline of him through the fabric of his jeans, circling your index finger around the tip briefly. His jaw falls open at the tease, a shuddering groan falling from his pretty pink lips.

Adjusting, you push your knee between his legs, keeping his hips against you as you take your hands off his waistband. Sliding them up his torso, you unbutton his shirt a little further. You push your leg further between his own, grinding against him. 

“Wait…” He gasps out, contradicting himself and letting his head tilt back for you.

You pause, stilling your lips against the warm skin of his neck, “What’s wrong?” You whisper, pressing a small kiss to his throat.

“Are you- are you sure?” His hips slide against yours, his desperation evident. 

“Very.” You mumble, letting your teeth nip their way across his collarbone. Flattening your tongue, you slide it up the expanse of his throat, pausing as you find his pulse. His heart hammers against your tongue, your teeth nipping lightly at the artery. His hand cradles the back of your head, his slender fingers sliding into your hair.  

You take his skin between your teeth, biting gently into his soft skin with all the care in the world. You suck gently on the bite to soothe the small bruise left in its wake. The vibrations of his moans against your lips fuel the fire and winding you tight. 

Your hands slide down his torso again, leaving his shirt partially unbuttoned. You drag your teeth along his pulse, nudging the collar of his shirt aside as you reach his collarbone. Hands resting on his hips once more, you stop his desperate grinding. 

Lesley huffs out heavy breaths, lacking the stimulation his hips were providing. He goes to speak but is stopped by your hand sliding over his waistband, dipping down to tease him again. You pay special attention to his collarbone, leaving the length of him as an afterthought.

He sighs out your name, sounding a little strained at your touch. You detach from his neck, pressing small kisses to the hickeys darkening his lightly tanned skin. Hooking your fingers into the buckle of his belt, you quickly unfasten it. Lifting your head, you press your cheek into his, feeling the burning shyness simmering under his skin. 

Your lips graze the shell of his ear, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” is all you whisper. You turn slightly, kissing along his jawline in slow drags.

He nods, whispering back an almost inaudible ‘okay’ which is quickly cut off by a sharp inhale as you pop the button of his jeans. Your index finger hooks over his zipper, sliding it down slowly. He squirms a bit against you, the slowness of your movements only proving to frustrate him further. 

His hand grips your hair, tugging your head back to connect your lips to his once again. Mouth slotting against yours, his tongue weaves its way into your mouth, sliding along the expanse of your own. His other hand slides a finger along the line of your jaw, brushing your hair out of your face as he envelopes you in his affection.

You flatten your hand, sliding it into his unfastened jeans. He groans into your mouth, his hips moving up to greet your hand, only separated by the thin fabric of his boxers. You could feel his pulse under your palm as you cup him in your hand, your thumb circling the head lazily. Using your free hand to keep him still, eating up his breathy whines as you tease him. You detach your mouth from his, biting your way down his neck. Taking the time to worship his skin, leaving large dark bruises as your mouth dips down to his exposed chest. 

He huffs out into the open air, moaning loudly as you begin to stroke his length through his boxers. He twitches underneath your touch, attempting to grind against your hand to pick up the pace, but you push his hips up against the wall of the balloon’s basket. 

“Stop.” You whisper, taking his earlobe between your teeth briefly. He groans, untangling his hand from your hair to cover his reddened face. 

Stopping your slow ministrations, you kiss down his throat again, over the curve of his collarbone and down his sternum. Lowering yourself slowly, you kneel on the floor of the basket. You free your hand from his jeans, much to his displeasure, but your fingers hook around his belt loops. Tugging his jeans down his thighs, he lets out a small gasp, panicking a bit as he drops his hand and meets your eyes.

You smile up at him, your hand finding him again, leisurely sliding along him through the thin fabric. Sliding his boxers down his thighs to sit along with his jeans, you take in the full sight of him. 

Your fingers curl around him and he sucks in a breath through his clenched teeth. Tracing the thick vein running along the underside of his shaft, you meet his eyes. His hands grip the edge of the basket, his blunt fingernails digging into the wicker material. 

Lesley’s eyes are blown wide, the honey-like color of his irises limited to a thin ring around his dilated pupils. The flushed color of his skin is illuminated by the thin layer of sweat gathering at his temples. He watches you with labored breath as you slowly begin to pump him in your hand. Swiping your thumb over his tip, you use the precum gathering in the slit as a form of lubricant. He shudders, his mouth dropping open as he lets out a broken moan.  

Leaning forward, you slide your tongue along the side of him, the tip running along the pulsing vein. He buck his hips absentmindedly and you flatten your free hand over his stomach, keeping him pressed against the wall. He whines softly, your hand moving slowly along him, your tongue circling around the tip in an aggravatingly slow fashion. You were toying with him, watching him carefully as he writhes.

The noises falling from his lips sounded like the most gorgeous symphony. You knew full well how desperate he was, his hips fighting to move despite your restrictions.

Flattening your tongue, you take just the head of him into your mouth. You quicken the pace of your hand, pumping him a little faster. You drag your tongue along the underside of his irritated tip, sliding it along his slit. 

Lesley chokes out a strained moan, his head falling forward. Quickly pushing his hair out of his face, intent on watching you despite how achingly slow you were going. His eyelids flutter as you take him further, his head sliding along the flat of your tongue. Dropping your hands to gently grip his thighs, your fingernails lightly dig into the flesh. 

Without restrictions, his hips jerk into you, the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You groan against him, the vibration almost causing him to unravel. Lifting yourself off of him a bit, you push back down, the tip of your nose brushing against his base continuously as you find a rhythm. Dropping all teasing and focusing on his pleasure, you keep your pacing steady, your tongue curling around his head to provide extra stimulation. 

As you push him closer to the edge, his muscles tense and his thoughts go flat. Lesley couldn’t think or say anything, his brain completely fogging over. His vision blurs as your soft noises vibrate into his sensitive skin, his tip sliding between your upper palate and the flat of your tongue. Completely overcome with everything around him, a bead of sweat trails its way down the tip of his nose.  He couldn’t possibly care how loud he was being under your control.

Feeling himself getting closer, his hands find their way into your hair. He gently rakes his fingers over your scalp as his back arches, pushing himself as far into you as he can. Lesley is completely incoherent, words coming out broken and jumbled in between pants and gasps. He twitches in your mouth, his hips stuttering lightly as he orgasms. 

You take it as well as you can, your nails digging into his thighs as you focus on not choking at his release. His knees wobble, and you pull off of him slowly. You take a second to swallow fully, standing from your kneeling position to hold him upright when he wavers. He looked completely fucked out, his eyes swimming as they land on your face.

Clearing your throat, you speak, “God, Lesley, you okay?” The question is accompanied by a light laugh. You lift your hand, brushing a hand through his hair to get a good look at his face.

“I love you.” He pants, leaning in to capture you in a kiss. He could taste himself on your lips, taking the time to rub his thumbs over your cheeks. 

When the kiss finally breaks, you laugh again, “I love you too, Les, now answer my question”.

“Oh! Shit- I’m so sorry, are you okay? I just-” He cuts himself off, floundering a bit as his mind races with the implications of what just happened. His hands keep your face bracketed in his palms, his eyes searching yours in a panic.

“I’m fine, promise,” Nodding, you press a few quick kisses to both of his cheeks. “Are you feeling okay? Lightheaded at all?” You ask, a little concerned considering the altitude. 

He shakes his head, “I’m perfect, great- you’re great, and perfect.” He scrambles to shower you in compliments, peppering your face in kisses in an oddly apologetic fashion.

“Thanks,” You giggle, smiling as he showers you in affection, “Now, can you bring us down? I’d like to take you to dinner.”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Only One Bed Fic Rec List 🛏

SFW Spencer Fics

Gender Neutral Reader

Hot Cocoa & Cuddles by @reidgraygubler: Reader is freezing while they’re working on a case in Alaska. Spencer has some fun facts about body temperatures and conserving body heat

Side Effects Might Vary by @specialagentsergio: An unexpected side effect brings you and Spencer closer—literally—when he’s prescribed a medication to help relieve his chronic nightmares.

It Can Wait Till Morning by @broken-stardust: Derek realizes that Spencer and Reader aren’t going to confess their feelings to each other, so he puts them in a situation where they’ll be forced to.

Atlas by @spectaclespencer: After getting shot Spencer is on bedrest, and begs Reader to stay with him just a little while longer.

Female Reader

Alcohols and Coffee by @strawberryspence: Spencer just really wants to date you and the alcohol finally gives him the courage to ask you out.

Malade by @spencerreidat3am: Being sick means a visit from the doctor.

Assorted SFW Fics

Will You Remember by @nerdyfangirl67 (Hotch, GN!Reader): Reader is a little tipsy/drunk. Character (Hotch) takes them to their apartment. Reader insists they sleep in the same bed.

Capture my Heart by @fortheloveofcriminalminds (Ralvez): Spencer Reid isn’t a big drinker. A night at Rossi’s and one bed makes him realise drinking isn’t all bad if it means he ends up in Luke’s arms.

The Warmest Hour by @lollipopgal (Franklin, GN!Reader): Reader and Franklin hate each other, but the heater is broken and it’s freezing.

Take Care by @reidgraygubler (Lesley, GN!Reader): Lesley takes care of reader after they had too much to drink

NSFW Spencer Fics

Female Reader

Morning Glory by me: Spencer goes into way too much detail about nocturnal penile tumescence (or morning wood, or morning glory, or whatever pejorative you prefer).

Get Lucky by me: The fire alarm in your apartment building goes off at 3AM after a pipe bursts. You only (barely) know the FBI agent who lives in the building, but he offers to share a hotel room, with you.

Homecoming in Vegas by @andiebeaword: Spencer gets an invitation to his 25th High School Reunion. Reader volunteers herself to accompany him.

Rough Night by @andiebeaword: Person A checks into hotel for the night. Person B has been driving all night and stops and checks in. Problem is….A is already in said room.

Assorted NSFW Fics

Demons by @emberfrostlovesloki (Hotch, Fem!Reader) : The team is forced into very close quarters during a case in Alaska. A mix-up in rooms has Aaron and Reader closer than ever.

Damsel by me (Kyle Orfman, Fem!Reader): You find a group to stick with in the zombie apocalypse, and Kyle is the only one with a bed big enough for two people.

Multiply by @reidgraygubler (Kyle Orfman, Fem!Reader): After narrowly escaping her grandmother eating her, Reader is on her own to find other civilization. The Orfman family takes her in. Reader and Kyle share a special bond.

Teen Dream by @kirencer (Chip Taylor, GN!AFAB!Reader): Chip’s not an idiot. He’s just a bit blind. Especially when it comes to the blatant feelings that Reader has for him.

Ruin It by @boldlyvoid (Spencer/Ethan): Spencer never had sleepovers as a kid, so now that he’s an adult he’s always sleeping over at Ethan’s house, and he’ll take any excuse to crawl into bed beside him.

[reidsaurora]

ofwilliamandwalter's birthday celebration challenge!!!

First of all, I just wanna say that I cannot believe that in a month's time, I will be entering the last year of my teen years. 18 has been rough (let's face it, most of my teen years were rough), but I'm so super excited for what 19 has in store for me!

That being said, I thought it would be fun for all of us to celebrate together! So, I came up with this challenge (it was inspired a little bit by @smurphyse's birthday challenge so shoutout there!) for all of us to celebrate! As always, I put my own lil Emmy twist on things and I'm super excited to see how it turns out!

So, Emmy, what's the challenge?

As you all know, I am lover of literature. I love reading any and every fanfic I can find on this app.

So, I'm challenging you guys to write something based on one (or more) of the prompts listed below!

The theme of course is:

BIRTHDAY 🥳🎉🥳🎉

Prompt Set #1 — One-Liners:

1. "I know it's not a cake, but it's the best I could do on such short notice."

2. "You've got frosting in your hair." or "You've got frosting on your face."

3. "What did you wish for?"

4. "Why didn't you tell anyone it was your birthday?"

5. "Hey... I brought you a slice of cake."

6. "Sorry if the decorations are a bit weird. They ran out of the ones we wanted to use."

7. "You look funny in a party hat."

8. "You have to make a wish when you blow out the candles!" - "My wish already came true—I have you in my life."

9. "I never cared for my birthday until I met you. Now each birthday reminds me of how grateful I am that we get to spend another year together."

10. "CELEBRATE ME! TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!" - "It's four in the morning." - "Yeah! I was born at four in the morning!"

Prompt Set #2 — Scenarios:

1. Person A is a grouch about their birthday so Person B decides to throw them a party with only their pet(s) present.

2. Person A got Person B's birthday wrong and spends the whole day pampering them. Person B finds it too adorable to say anything.

3. Person A has a crush on Person B for quite some time, so they take B's birthday as an opportunity to give them a present and show them that they care about them. B is surprised because they have never really noticed A before, but enjoys it all the more.

4. It's a tradition in the office that when it's someone's birthday, someone else brings a cake. Person A's birthday is coming up, and Person B finally sees their chance to make a move.

5. The party throwers made so much noise setting up the party that the police came before the person being surprised even arrived.

So, Emmy, what are the rules?

Anyone can join! No matter if you follow me or not, no matter if you're a writing account or not, no matter if you've ever even written a fic before. YOU CAN ALL JOIN!!!

All writing is allowed! There is no specific genre you have to stick to. Write what you love and we'll love it too!!

I like to keep things clean for the most part, but should you participate with a NSFW entry, please: HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO OR YOUR PINNED POST!! I will not be sharing any NSFW entries from ageless blogs.

Please include a summary, what pairing it is, content warnings, word count, and what prompt(s) you chose.

Pairing must be one of the following: Criminal Minds character x reader, Criminal Minds character x character, Supernatural character x reader, Supernatural character x character, or Lesley Smith-Juniment x reader!!!

There is no limit to how many times you can enter! If you have multiple ideas for multiple different prompts, please send them all!

Please share with all your writer friends! The more, the merrier!

All entries must be tagged "#ofwilliamandwalter's birthday challenge" so I can find them! I would also prefer to be tagged in them just in case I cannot find them under the tag!

Challenge ends: one month from now, on my birthday — August 2nd, 2022

Again, I wanna thank you all for being such lovely people! I can't wait to see everyone's beautiful creations and I hope you'll consider participating! It would make this birthday girl extremely happy :)

Feel free to send any questions, comments, or concerns about the challenge in a DM! I'm always here to answer 🥰

↳ icon in collage by @scrapbookspence (full birthday icon pack coming soon!)

↳ other pictures featured in the collage are from pinterest. all rights go to the original owners.

↳ birthday dividers by @firefly-graphics

↳ tagging some of my moots who write!: @lunar-affection @rupurts-morgue03 @writer-in-theory @roguereid @fortheloveofwonderland @andiebeaword @samuel-de-champagne-problems @spookydrreid @arsonhotchner @foxy-eva @radiant-reid @one-sweet-gubler @lukeclvez @pretty-boys-book-club @letarasstuff @1234-angelika @wifeyreid @kbakery @sultrypotter @ellcsgreenaway @hotched @spencebunny @1967chevys @reidsbookclub

Prompts featured are from the following posts:

↳ "10 Birthday Prompts" by @youneedsomeprompts

↳ "Birthday Prompts 2021" by @seaside-writings

↳ "Birthday Prompts 🍰" by @creativepromptsforwriting

↳ "Birthday Prompts" by @mangoofthesea

↳ "Birthday Prompts!!" by @dialogue4urocs

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM/MGG Only One Bed Challenge

The following are prompts including the Only One Bed Trope!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

Open Prompts for the Challenge:

Character/Reader wakes up from a nightmare and the other comforts them.

Reader and Character hate each other, but the heater is broken and it’s freezing.

Reader is visiting Character, who insists they take Character‘s bed. Reader ends up with Character on the couch anyway.

Reader/Character can’t sleep, and discusses how they heard cuddling with a loved one can make it easier to fall asleep.

You just moved in with Character and you can’t put your bed together because it’s missing pieces. Character let’s you sleep with them.

Fake dating plan is almost thwarted by everyone expecting you to share a bed.

College!AU where you think you’re crawling into bed with your friend at a party but it’s actually/Character, the person you’ve been crushing on, who is too scared to kick you out.

Reader is a little tipsy/drunk. Character takes them to their apartment. Reader insists they sleep in the same bed.

Reader/Character is sick, and the other tries to take care of them. It works, but now the person is asleep on their lap and oh well I guess they’re stuck there.

Part of your bedtime routine surprises Character.

Someone keeps spouting random facts as you try to fall asleep.

“That’s it. I’m sleeping on the floor.”

Reader and Character are snowed in at a mutual friend's cabin because they got too drunk and stayed longer than they should have. The only problem is, there's only one tiny guest bedroom and they have to squeeze in together to stay warm.

Reader having to clean their sheets but their sheets aren't done by the time it's bed time. Character offers them their bed.

Reader and Character are camping, and one of their tents tears.

Anything else you can think of! Let me know if you have a request you'd like me to add to the list (or tag me in your fic of your original idea!)

Rules below the cut!

The fic can be a Reader insert, or a character/character ship. It can feature any Criminal Minds character or any character played by Matthew Gray Gubler (Chip, Raymond, Lesley, etc).

Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I'm collecting both! You can also tag it "#mentioningmargins" which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

*Also, side note: I am also considering collecting fics that feature the Anti-Only-One-Bed trope, which means that there actually are multiple beds, but the characters choose to stay in one (ex. my fic Astraphobia). If you have any of these, let me know!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Mates (Lesley Fic)

Summary: You and your roommate Lesley didn’t really think through the timing of this hookup.

A/N: It’s about the yearning. It’s about the idiots in love. Couple: Lesley Smith-Juniment/GN!AFAB!Reader (no mention of breasts, pronouns) Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral sex (AFAB receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, mutual pining Word Count: 3.3k

MASTERLIST

You hadn’t intended to end up in bed with your roommate, but once you were there, you realized that there hadn’t been anywhere else you’d rather be. There had just been something about him that night, with his cheeks tinged like blush roses and his laughter laced with the heavy scent of sweet liquor. His honey irises and sweet scent drew you towards him.

When you’d moved closer to him on the couch, Lesley had not protested the proximity. If anything, he’d moved closer, too. The two of you had spoken about how silly it was that it could still be so cold this time of year, despite the thermostat inside reading a healthy 25°C. You’d taken full advantage of whatever excuse or justification could be thought up, and when you’d run out, you relied only on knowing glances and roaming hands.

You couldn’t remember which of the two of you closed the gap first, but it didn’t seem to matter. Once your lips touched, you’d given up at keeping any sort of score. You were too busy running tongue over pink peach lips, summer sweet and sticky from the spirits. It only seemed sensical, that the liquor would bring you two together again, and again, and again.

When Lesley had broken the kiss, you’d almost protested. But then his hand had found yours, and his eyes had lowered to watch the way your fingertips danced with his before falling into place between the gaps. He’d inspected the way you two fit together like one of his many creations. He’d looked at you like he’d seen the pieces of himself coming together.

You couldn’t remember which of you had closed the gap the first time, but the second time had definitely been Lesley. It had been less prepared, hasty and naive in his excitement. His free hand that’d been too shy to touch you before clumsily clambered to your face, where he’d pulled you even closer.

As you’d struggled to find air between him and his enthusiasm, you’d realized that maybe it had just been your time to go, smothered with the love of Lesley Smith-Juniment. Thankfully, though, he’d disagreed. He’d selfishly wanted to take just a little bit more before he’d let you go again. You’d had no objections.

He’d led you down the hallway of the house you two shared, and you’d sworn you’d never seen it look like that before. You’d looked at the walls, adorned with hand-painted art of every beautiful thing that had ever reminded you of him, and you wondered if he’d also infused you into every part of his world. You’d realized that at some point between the first time you met and he awkwardly shook your hand and that moment, you’d fallen in love with the human embodiment of everything pure.

And, somehow, he’d chosen you, too.

So there you were, caught between silk sheets and a man whose softness the threads would envy. With every eager kiss he granted, you would reward with a smile or a chuckle that was quickly mirrored. The silence was notable, but not unwelcome. Truthfully, you were convinced that if you’d spoken, you might spook the poor doe-eyed boy away entirely.

But then his fingers found their way under the hem of your shirt and you weren’t able to stop yourself from calling his name.

“Lesley…”

He paused, pulling back to look at you for what felt like the first time. You couldn’t be certain what he saw, but you could be sure that it was something beautiful. Because his lips barely parted to take in a sharp, quick breath that was immediately expended in kissing you again.

Deprived of oxygen and any lingering patience, the two of you got to work stripping the few physical layers that remained between you. Each inch of exposed skin felt like rediscovering yourself after a lifetime of waiting. He said nothing, but every so often he might murmur something that sounded like your name against your skin.

Curiously, once you were finally naked, Lesley didn’t touch you in a lewd manner. Everything about him remained so blissfully innocent, wrapping around your naked form and holding you tightly for a few moments that felt too brief. He drew his nose up your throat and over your chin, taking his time and utilizing every possible tactile signal to cherish you.

You hadn’t intended to fall into bed with Lesley, but he’d clearly been thinking of it as often as you had. There was no other way to explain the tenderness and care with which he touched you. The way drunken, whiskey and honey colored eyes watched your every reaction when his hands finally fell between your legs.

It felt a little bit like Heaven and a little bit sinful when his finger breached your opening, with precious precision but never any pain. He had no reservation or fear, just an unending desire to watch your mouth drop open to make way for lustful sounds of praise.

“You are so wonderful,” he whispered while he watched, and you wondered if he’d even meant to say it at all. But then he continued as his fingers found the place they’d sought, “I want to have you forever.”

And you wanted to tell him that he could have you whenever, forever, however he’d pleased. But you were too scared by the suddenness of the confession and the scent of sweet ethanol to allow yourself to take his words seriously.

You closed your eyes instead. You felt his warmth dissipate as he pulled away, and you thought to yourself that maybe you’d made a mistake in ignoring his honesty.

“Lesley, I—“

The words are cut off by the visceral reaction to his breath on your stomach. But he still paused, waiting for you to look down at him and tell him whether he should stop his descent or the affair altogether. His eyes are glassy with want and with an almost solemn wistfulness. Almost like he’d been looking at you like a dream that he’d only just remembered he would eventually have to wake up from.

You thought of the words you’d meant to say, the brief moment of doubt that had been immediately followed by an even more regrettable ardor to return the confession and join in his catharsis.

Deciding that a healthy compromise had never hurt anyone, you made up your mind.

“I want you, too,” you said, in place of the more honest but more terrifying, ‘I love you.’

But that strange, soft boy smiled at you from between your legs like he’d heard it all the same. His fingers remained gentle and persistent, gently cradling you both inside and out and pressing soothing kisses just above your pubic bone.

He took his time loving and lavishing you, drawing his tongue through the wetness he’d elicited so far and seemingly smiling at the taste of you. There wasn’t a single complaint nor concern as he explored the area well enough to be able to rebuild the scene in his mind whenever he wanted.

Eventually, he took time to create new would-be-memories by pressing his tongue against the small bundle of nerves above where his fingers continued their slow, methodical ministrations. It was odd, how something so calculated could feel so intimate. But it had. It felt like he’d taken to you like one of his equations and he’d returned all of the right answers.

Lesley broke you down in the best ways, and when your legs started to tense and cover his ears, he only pulled them closer with his free hand. Short, blunt fingernails dug into your skin to demonstrate that you were not the only one who sought to be consumed by the other.

You glanced down at him, lost in the throes of passion despite having barely been touched so far, and you wondered how it ever came to be that you were lucky enough to land — completely by accident — into Lesley’s bed. Into his hands and possibly his heart.

That was the last thing you could think before the cosmos collapsed, the tension in your stomach breaking free in the form of his name forced between broken moans. The most bittersweet release, the otherworldly euphoria that meant that you were one step closer to his leaving your body again.

When he pulled away, though, he still stubbornly refused to go far. His lips, still wet with you, left a trail of sloppy kisses up your stomach and over your sternum until he found a comfortable home against your collarbones just like he had before. His arms were more tired, but still just as insistent when they wrapped around you.

“I want you,” he mumbled against your neck, and you felt it in every part of you.

“Still?” you try to tease, but he is not joking when he responds, “Always.”

Your breath caught in your throat, lodged with your heart that had leapt from its place in its pursuit of his. You didn’t speak, choosing not to trust your traitorous mouth not to spill its secrets in case the dam broke. Instead, you took a page from Lesley’s book and let your body say what you were too afraid to.

There was no struggle between your bodies. Your hand wrapped around delicate, silken skin and was rewarded with a low, rolling groan. The kind of wanton sound that somehow seemed both out of place and perfectly at home on his tongue that still tasted like you.

But when he kissed you, you realized that he had made you sweeter somehow.

Although you felt a little bit guilty for not spoiling him as he had done for you, you were also sure he hadn’t minded when you guided him to your entrance. Like always, Lesley’s passion quickly evolved, and he’d escalated your motions exponentially every time he was given the opportunity.

For every inch you lifted your hips, he was ready to meet you halfway until he had nothing left to give and you had nowhere else for him to go. But that stubborn boy persisted in his pursuit to imprint on every inch of you. When his tongue wasn’t tangled with yours, it was marking any skin that you could hide beneath clothing.

You tried not to overthink his mercy; you reminded yourself that he was kind and not conniving in his love. For a moment, you considered asking him to draw his signature with bruises across your neck for the whole world to see that you belonged to him, but then he began to move, and you were too devoted to memorizing that feeling to muddle it with any worries.

His hands caressed your face, feeling the heat at the apple of your cheeks with roaming thumbs. He held you in a way unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you realized that you never wanted it to end. You realized too late, and your hands couldn’t catch his before your skin was exposed to the air that honestly did feel cold now that you knew the alternative.

“Hold me,” you begged, only to realize that your words had been premature.

His hands had found yours again among the strewn sheets. He clutched them for dear life, pressing the backs of your hands against the bed with everything he had in him. It wasn’t until then that Lesley met your eyes again, with an undercurrent of anxiety but an overwhelming reverence.

His hips moved slowly, drawing out each motion and moan. You took note of the veins in his neck calling out to your lips, and you tried to calm his pounding pulse with gentle brushes and butterfly kisses. The touches tickled, but his chuckle carried a heavy, somber feeling with it.

“Honestly…” he muttered once his little nudges guided you back to him. He lost the words for a second longer, watching you like he was already experiencing the nostalgia from how this would all end.

“Honestly, I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to let you go again,” he whispered.

So don’t, you challenge him with nothing but your stare. Again, it seems like he hears the words through the broken whimpers.

He felt the love flowing out from your fingertips that pressed into his hands. You felt guilty for holding him too tightly, for damaging those hands that did nothing but give. But you also knew he would understand how necessary it was.

The force behind each movement grew to overwhelming levels. Your legs that had been wrapped around his waist slipped and fell to the side, and he took advantage of the freedom it granted him. He held your legs just as delicately as he had everything else, but that time it was in strong contrast to the brutal crashing of hips.

The sounds and heady scent of sex filled the room, and you selfishly thought to yourself that some part of his room should belong to you. It was only fair, you reasoned, that he could give a pillow in exchange for your heart.

Lesley cut the thought off with another clumsy kiss, with teeth clacking together and his breath wetting your upper lip as he struggled to remain composed. He’d wanted to look you in the eyes again first.

Once he did though, he couldn’t stop what happened next. With your hands still in his, he bottomed out inside of you and held himself there. You watched the lights and euphoria dance along fluttering eyelids and dewy, pink cheeks, and were surprised to find yourself falling all the same.

The two of you fell like petals on the wind, unhurried and without anywhere else to go. Lesley managed to stay above you just long enough to watch the last of the display. He felt your body relax, but your hands held on, before he finally let himself let go.

He let go of your hands, but both of you used your newfound freedom to cling to each other in a different way. Lesley shifted so that he could look at the way you smiled when his fingers brushed over your still parted lips.

And you realized that maybe — just maybe — you had always intended to end up in his bed. And perhaps Lesley had intended for you to, too.

Lesley’s mothers were known for their intuition. Granted, their son had never really been very good at hiding secrets. His emotions had always been embroidered on his sleeve with rainbow-colored threads.

When the two of them had arrived at his house, to meet his new roommate for the first time and to celebrate a recent growth of his business, they had been expecting a few things. Awkward handshakes and insecure wayward glances; perhaps there might even be some stern warnings about the tender-hearted nature of their baby boy.

But it was clear upon arrival that any fear or concern about him was premature, and possibly entirely unnecessary.

Lesley’s mother watched him carefully as he cut the fruit in front of him. Each piece fell casually, with odd ends and disproportionate sizes. The inconsistency didn’t seem to bother him at all. He appeared downright serene, smiling without seemingly being aware that he’d taken on a new neutral expression.

She thought back, trying to find the last time she’d seen him look so… calm.

“You seem less stressed than my son. The one that I’m used to,” she commented.

The comment ripped him from his reverie, but he said nothing. Although, she noticed that he cleared his throat in a failed attempt to hide the way his cheeks turned pink and his breath came faster.

“Is work going well?” she asked.

Lesley quickly nodded, and his mother noted that he spoke faster and with a higher pitch when he had a secret to hide.

“Yeah, I just have more time now. I guess they weren’t lying when they said the more successful you are, the more boring your job becomes.”

Not much had changed since he was a boy. That was alright with her, though. She brushed his hair from his face to take in the sight of her son and all of his shifty glances. He was still smiling, albeit more nervously now.

“I don’t think any normal person would describe that exchange as ‘boring,’ but… I always knew you were at least a little bit exceptional,” she teased. He took the praise graciously, but was immediately surprised to hear the sounds of riotous laughter from the next room over.

The two of them leaned back to see their respective person, lost in the ruckus of their own voices. Lesley’s mother looked away approximately five seconds faster than her son, just so she could catch the way his eyes lit up at the sight of his roommate getting along with the more stubborn of his mothers.

“You seem to have found yourself someone nice to spend the time with.”

“Definitely,” Lesley whispered with an unmistakable fondness. A reverence that could only be described as the most powerful form of love.

But then he noticed the way his mother was looking at him, and pink cheeks turned hot until they matched the erratic slices of apples and peppers on the plate in front of him.

“Definitely nice… to... have a roommate, I mean.”

“Hmmm,” his mother mused with a knowing, scrunched up smile.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she assured her son, “I’m glad you’re happy.”

She paused when she noticed she’d lost his attention once more. She followed his eyes through the open door to see the others again.

His mother laughed as she took the knife from the hopeless boy to her left.

“And I am glad that your roommate is nice.”

“Yeah,” he said as the happiness spilled from his mouth in the form of a giggle, “Me too.”

Lesley’s mothers were known for their intuition. That was exactly why when they left later that afternoon, they were both exhausted and excited by the events of the day. It had been a good visit. They were proud of their son and the company that he kept.

But still, they found themselves caught in a different set of feelings only halfway related to the young couple they left behind. The two that were awkwardly standing just a little too close on the porch as they waved his mothers off.

“Seeing those two together brings back a lot of memories, huh?” his mother said, suddenly reminded of the days where the two of them had done the very same.

Both of the women recalled with perfect clarity the way that they both would hold hands under dinner tables and sneak kisses in poorly lit hallways.

“Yeah, it does,” her wife replied.

“I remember the days when that’s what we were,” she giggled.

Then, together, they both whispered in unison the word they looked back on fondly.

“Roommates.”

“They’ll laugh about it, too. One day,” her wife chuckled before interlocking fingers over the center console. They watched the couple disappear in the rear view, and one of them swore that she’d seen her son take his roommate’s hand too.

She almost said something about it, but like old married couples tend to do, her wife interrupted the thought with another astute observation.

“Our son… he’s not the brightest, is he?” she asked.

“No, poor thing is like a golden retriever,” Lesley’s mother answered a little too quickly. The two of them snickered at their shared secret; their knowing of the reason behind their son’s smitten smile.

They were both known for their intuition.

So they knew they were right when they agreed, “He’ll get there, though.”

“Yeah. They’ll get there.

(Tell me what you thought of this story here!)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Melancholia (Lesley Fic)

Summary: Reader has been acting weird lately and Lesley makes a much needed wellness check. A/N: Anyway... Watch Hot Air. It’s on YouTube if I recall correctly. Couple: Lesley/GN!Reader Category: Hurt/Comfort Content Warning: Depression, self-hatred, medication use (unidentified) Word Count: 3.3k

MASTERLIST

The clock on the wall hasn’t ticked in days, and as much as I wanted to say it was a metaphor for my current state of mind, I knew that it was only because the batteries died and I was too tired to change them.

Tired. More like lazy. Whatever word they’re using to describe the abysmal apathy that swallowed the space around me like an ever present shadow. It would only take a few minutes to remedy the problem — to drown out the ambient buzzing of the refrigerator filled with half-rotten food.

Lazy. More like ungrateful. Unwilling to recognize how lucky I am to even have a roof over my head. To have access to water and clothes just to avoid showering because my thoughts are amplified by the water.

The clock on the wall hasn’t ticked in days.

So why do I keep looking at it, expecting it to give me an answer to questions it was never designed to anticipate?

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in like I’ve always been told to do. But I couldn’t even do that right. I blew out the air too quickly and with quivering lips. I think I was trying to cry, but I couldn’t tell you why. No tears fell.

It was probably for the best, anyway. It was certainly a good representation of how I felt.

Empty. Empty like the apartment that I hadn’t left in time to see the sunlight in at least a week. Maybe two, but who’s counting anyway? My friends had long given up on contacting me when I get like this. They knew it was a fruitless effort. Unless they really would rather spend their little bit of free time playing babysitter and maid while I tried to get myself together.

It was best for me to be alone. Wallowing in self-pity until the options became so bleak that I had no other choice than to get up. Until something forced me from the indentation shaped like my unrecognizable body.

Something good. Something so unbelievably, impossibly wonderful that I might be able to believe that the world wasn’t all bad all the time.

Or, I don’t know, maybe just a stray cat batting at the window to say hello. Maybe that would be enough.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound that shook the dust of my mind was so in tune with my thoughts that I actually looked to the window first. But when there were no patting paws, I turned my attention to the much more sensible location: my front door.

When I found my way there on shaky legs, I paused. It was days like this I really wished that I had a peephole. But I didn’t, so I just stood there, weighing whether it was worth the gamble. There were only a few people who could be on the other side, and only a handful of them were people I cared about enough to pretend to be happy.

The rest were people I never wanted to see me like this.

“(Y/n)? It’s Lesley.”

Just like that, my heart leapt back to life from its hiding place somewhere in my stomach.

“Your neighbors told me you were home. Not like, in a creepy way, or anything. I just happened to pass them and they recognized me and mentioned you were home when I... You know, never mind. It doesn’t matter, but—“

The door swung opened and stopped his thought, replacing it with my own.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry to surprise you, I just I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said. He spoke so quickly that his last words were muttered without a breath, “I wanted to see you.”

The two of us just stared at each other, lost and equally nervous judging by the way he wrung his hands together. And, despite how hard I tried, I couldn’t come up with any reason to kick him out.

Even though I knew I should. Even though I’d promised myself that he would be the last one to see me like this.

“Oh… Okay,” I muttered.

I took a step back and kicked the bag of trash that sat uselessly beside my door. It wasn’t its fault; it was just waiting to be taken out. But the walk down the hall to the trash chute felt a lot longer when I could barely make myself put on socks.

Lesley didn’t seem to mind, though. He took his time, stepping carefully as he meandered through the crowded, disastrous space.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess in here. And I don’t even have any makeup on or anything,” I mumbled.

It succeeded in dragging his eyes away from the mess of the room and back to the mess of me. Even just the cursory glances made my skin crawl. It wasn’t his fault, though. I had just forgotten what it felt like to be seen by something kind.

“That’s okay,” he said with a smile and a shrug, “I can handle mess.”

And no matter how badly I wanted to correct him, to explain that I was not like any other mess he’d ever seen before, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not when his smile looked so heartbreakingly genuine. So perfectly out of place for my life.

So I didn’t correct him, but I did feel obligated to explain myself, albeit with a shitty explanation.

“It’s been tough lately with work and everything. My chores just... piled up.”

With one sweep of the room, he turned back with a slightly cautious, “Can I help?”

The kind of cautious that reminded me how much of a burden it was to be friends with me. The cautious that sounded a lot like disappointment and disgust. The cautious I’d spent most of my young adult life running away from. The kind that only had one right answer.

“No, it’s fine. I can do it myself.”

“But I’m here now. I can do stuff, too.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but all I heard was every person who’d ever resented me. His smile was still there, but my brain was too busy interpreting it as condescension to hear anything else.

“It’s not your job to take care of me,” I shot back, laced with poison and loathing that he didn’t deserve.

Having already witnessed what would happen if he made a joke, lovable, foolish Lesley countered with another.  

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

His lips twisted into an unsure pucker at the reply. I could only imagine what he was considering while he was gone in his thoughts. He was probably weighing all of the options he had. Trying to decide if my venom was enough to abandon his pursuits altogether.

Whatever it was, he made up his mind a little too quickly for my liking.

“Fine,” he said, raising two hands in defeat while he stepped closer to the exit.

I couldn’t blame him. I would leave, too, if I was on the receiving end of my harsh words. It wasn’t worth it to dirty his hands when the problem had an obvious solution. It wasn’t up to him to convince me to be better; I should’ve done it on my own already.

I was just being stubborn. Lazy. Stupid.

But right when I thought he would leave, he took a step away from the door.

A step closer to me.

My whole body tensed at the proximity while simultaneously leaning towards him and seeking out even just the briefest touch. Anything to remind me that I was, in fact, still here and capable of being touched.

Still worthy of being touched by anything, much less something as pure as him.  

Then, like he could read my mind, Lesley opened his arms.

“Can I at least get a hug for the road?” he asked.

He sounded so full of love and life that I wondered how I’d ever found someone so different from myself. Because there was just no getting around the way the sun shined brighter and the wind changed direction to have more of a chance to touch him.

Someone good. Too good for me.

But how could I say no when he wouldn’t put his arms down no matter how long I stared? How could I not when the alternative was to disappoint him even more than I already had?

“Fine,” I replied with the same amount of defeat as he had shown.

Still stuck on the thought that he was making a mistake in letting me touch him. Convinced that I would taint him with dread and destruction.

When his arms wrapped around me, though, it didn’t feel like pain. It didn’t feel like anything at first. His touch was so light that I almost didn’t register it. So, I waited a few seconds more before leaning into him, trying to find his heartbeat through his sweater.

Lesley pulled me closer, then, with his hands spreading over my back like he could feel how badly every inch of me craved his recognition. He didn’t stop, drawing comforting swirls and circles up my shoulders and neck until he got to the terrible, tangled mess of my hair.

He didn’t run his fingers through it, probably acutely aware of the sting that would accompany the movement, but he didn’t shy away completely. With one comforting palm, Lesley stroked the top of my head, using it as an excuse to guide my head closer until my ear was pressed against him.

From there I listened to the gentle thrum of a heart that felt tortured but strong. Tired but trying.

It sounded a lot like mine.

“That feels nice,” I mumbled, half hoping he wouldn’t hear. Afraid that an acknowledgment might make him stop.

My fears were justified, too, because that’s immediately what he did. His hands that held me so carefully pulled me away so that he could look me in the eye.

So I would see how excited he was when he asked, “Can I brush it?”

The thought alone made me wince, fully expecting him to be too harsh and too quick in his detangling. But he just looked so happy that I decided the pain would be worth it.

“If you want to,” I asked, careful to emphasize the word ‘want’.

But Lesley was already taking off towards the bathroom, expertly dodging all the obstacles in his path.

He did even better on the return trip, dragging me with him to the couch and tossing pillows on the ground for me to sit on. It was so chaotic and childlike and very unlike him that for just one second, I forgot that I was supposed to be sad.

And I laughed.

It sounded foreign and wrong and wonderful. It felt like gears turning for the first time after years of building up rust. But then it burned out, just like a candle in a vacuum using up the last of the oxygen for its own self-interest.

I didn’t talk while he worked. Instead, I stared out at all the things I needed to do. My own apartment felt so suffocating, like it was nothing but an endless list of chores that I would never accomplish. Not that it was extraordinary or unique— they were the same things everyone else had to do.

I was just lazy. Ungrateful. Stupid.

“Hey, I don’t mean to pry or anything it’s just...”

Lesley’s voice broke through the thoughts again like static on a record. It would’ve been a welcome distraction if not for the unease clear in his tone.

It seemed like he was waiting for a response, but my throat felt too tight to let any through. After a few more seconds of silence, he spoke again. Lowly, calmly, and careful.

“I saw your prescription bottle in the bathroom, and it looked... empty.”

The words spread through me like fire. My skin burned with blood that had been long settled. It was humiliating enough for him to have seen my bathroom, much less the scattered empty bottles evidencing just how horrible I was.

“Yeah, I meant to do that today, but I got busy,” I said with a laugh to disguise the lie.

Lesley didn’t mention it. He didn’t even ask any other clarifying questions.

Instead, he happily offered, “I can get it for you.”

“No, it’s fine, I can do it,” I urged just like before.

Except this time Lesley responded with an equally rigid resolve, “So can I.”

It was hard to be annoyed with him when his hands continued to work through knots with an impossible amount of tenderness considering the tangles.

In a way, I felt like his hands were a metaphor for his heart, which also worked with a precision and purity that seemed almost too good to be human.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered, sounding ashamed of the edge he’d taken before, “I need to go to the store anyway.”

“Okay...” I mumbled back, wondering if it was because I felt obligated or because I was worried any other answer would hurt him even more.

Interestingly, that thought started a dangerous precedent. Even after Lesley left, it carried me through my apartment with a renewed sense of purpose. I was burning through my to-do list, motivated only by the thought of making him proud.

And while I couldn’t tackle it all—not even close— I did push all the trash into more manageable piles. And at least one of those piles finally made it to the chute.

But still, that wasn’t the most impressive thing by far. That honor was reserved for my very first shower in at least a week. I was a little embarrassed by how excited the thought of him coming back made me.

Because really, it was pathetic, right? He shouldn’t be impressed because I finally took a few small steps to be a normal, functional human being.

It was my fault it got this bad. It wasn’t revolutionary that I got myself back up.

Just before I’d resigned myself to the misery I had just started to crawl away from, the sound of the key I’d lent him jiggling in a knob alerted me of Lesley’s return. I stood frozen in place like a deer in headlights, waiting for his reason.

“Oh! You showered!” he shouted. He scrambled to hold onto several bags while also shutting the door. Once he accomplished the latter, he continued, “That means I can do your hair again!”

I swore my heart stopped in response. It was the only logical reaction to seeing something so undeniably adorable.

“Let me just put these groceries away first!”

Then I remembered to be confused by the bags lining his arms. I rushed over to help him, but he had already made his way over to my now mostly-clear table.

“Groceries?”

He knew why I was asking. I wasn’t just stating the obvious; I was probing to see any sign of pity.

But surprisingly, I found none when he replied, “I hope you don’t mind. I thought it might be fun to cook us a meal and I got carried away.”

My confusion manifested as an automatic assent of “No, it’s fine.”

... which Lesley was more than happy to capitalize on.

“Great!” he called, already busy unpacking the items and working through the dishes I’d managed to clean.

Embarrassed, I ran over to clean the rest. But Lesley wasn’t ready to let me do it by myself. That seemed to be the trend of the day.  

I wasn’t going to complain this time. Especially not when a task I was certain would take an hour was over in less than ten minutes.

The rest of the time was spent listening to him talk about strange vegan ingredients he assured me would taste better than they smelled. And even though I winced and pinched my nose in a show of feigned disgust, it was really only because I loved the way he couldn’t keep a straight face. His lips bounced between pouts and smiles the whole time.

Eventually, mine started to follow suit. My lips weren’t as quick as him to turn up, but they did. They slowly gained their ability to stretch and curve just like they had a lifetime ago.

Then I couldn’t stop smiling. I smiled until my cheeks hurt and then some. I kept it going past the point of indulgence.

I let myself feel guilty for feeling happy and then I kept doing it, anyway, purely out of spite.

It would have to end eventually. I knew that. But I enjoyed every second I had. Lesley and I spent hours just like that, moving trash piles and clothes. It felt so substantial. Like we were moving mountains rather than garbage. Everything felt that way with him.

Easier. Better. Fun.

When we found ourselves changing the sheets on my bed, we quickly realized we’d drained our reserves. Thankfully we had just enough to finish... and throw ourselves onto clean linen.  

Lesley laughed as I wiggled underneath the sheets. The sound granted me enough confidence to drag him in with me.

He didn’t fight my hands. He let them guide him to the spot next to me. From there, he felt comfortable resting his hand on my hip.

“You must be tired,” he whispered like the sound might wake me further, “I get the feeling you haven’t had a good night of sleep in a while.”

With a pathetic, nervous chuckle I answered a very sarcastic, “What gave me away?”

But there was no need to be nervous. Not with him. That sweet, impossible man was just waiting for an excuse to pull my body against his.

“Well, let’s take a nap then,” he offered with a warmth in his voice that rivaled the heat radiating from his body.

It only took a few seconds before my eyelids felt too heavy to open. Still, I couldn’t rest. My brain was buzzing with thoughts that needed to come out one way or another. Whether it was with words or gestures, I had to share them. To free myself of the weight so that my heart could beat unencumbered again.

“Hey, Lesley?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” I whispered. And even though I heard the words crackling, I forced them out, anyway. Even when tears started to fall, I tried to say the things he deserved to hear. “Things have just been really hard lately and I just really appreciate—"

He needed to know how important this was to me. How much it meant that he came here, surely expecting better company, and took care of me. That he took it upon himself to make sure that I felt human again.

That idea did come out in a way, but it wasn't with words. It was through choked sobs that soaked his shirt.

Lesley didn’t shy away from the tears, though. If anything, he pulled me closer, hushing me with soft sounds murmured against my hair.

“Shhh, I know,” he whispered, “I’m here.”

For the first time in a long time, that statement felt honest.

But I still felt obligated to apologize for everything about me.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Lesley didn’t let the words go unnoticed like I’d hoped. He held me tighter, steeling his words to fight even the strongest self-doubt.

“Don’t be. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”

He meant it to be comforting, but the thought was so ridiculous that I had to laugh. A scratchy, unusual sound that would take some getting used to again. I didn’t mind, though. Not when it made the tears feel lighter.

“You’re so weird," I muttered through it all.

Lesley returned the laughter wholeheartedly, and I thought to myself that it was ridiculous how much better I felt knowing that I could make him smile.

I knew it wouldn’t last forever; that pulling yourself out of a hole takes a lot of time and hard work (and in my case, the prescription I’d been missing). The happiness I felt in that moment was fleeting, but it was enough.  

Enough to make me feel like I deserved to feel okay again.

To believe that I was, and always had been, enough.

“You’ll just have to get used to it, I guess,” he joked with his hands holding me as close as they could. It was because of that simple gesture that I knew he definitely wasn’t joking anymore when he whispered, “You’re stuck with me.”

And what a wonderful thing to be.

(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Monkshood (Lesley Blurb)

Request: Reader owns a small local flower shop and meets a man who looks angry and defeated, storming up to ask "Can you please tell me which of these flowers says 'Fuck you?'" - @andiebeaword​ Couple: Lesley Smith-Juniment/Reader Category: Fluff/Comfort Content Warning: None! Word Count: 900

MASTERLIST

He enters your shop on a Saturday morning. You know the matter is serious because there are very few reasons to be upset on the first morning of a long weekend. There are even fewer reasons to be as upset as he is.

And he is upset, you think, but it’s hard to tell as he storms to the counter in the least intimidating manner known to man. The first indication of his rage is still hidden behind eyes that burn with flickering flecks that match the greenery around you. They swim in pools of molasses and honey that haven’t quite mixed all the way together yet.

His breath was running so ragged and hot that he couldn’t quite speak, but when you try to ask him a question, you two speak at the same time.

“Can I help y—“

“I need to kno—“

You pause to let him finish, but he’s huffing and puffing again from trying to speak before he was ready. The red tinge on his face seemed to stretch down below his precariously buttoned shirt that appears to have been thrown on in a hurry.

“Sorry,” he sighs, his hand raising and falling as even that effort seemed too much. But then he continues, bold faced and confident in his convictions, “Can you please tell me which of these flowers says ‘Fuck you?’”

It is, surprisingly, not the first time you’ve heard the question. It is, however, the first time that it’s been asked by someone as precious as him. You could tell by the way the word fuck struggled between his teeth that he didn’t say it often. It was yet another testament to his seriousness, and you decided it was time for you to return his fervor with your own.

“Monkshood,” you say softly, trying to suppress the giggle that’s slithering up your throat.

You see the relief wash over him when you do nothing else to mock him. His hands that had balled up with tension resorted to shaking with open palms, instead.

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You feel obliged to answer, but also don’t want to. You could tell him about the history of wolfsbane being used to kill monsters and men, but it seems silly in this context. Because in front of you was a beautiful man with tears hidden in his eyes that still glowed with an impossible concoction of colors.

“Do you really want to buy them any flowers at all?” you ask, instead.

He seems confused. His head drops to the side and you notice for the first time the way his skin had finally faded back to what was almost certainly its normal shade. Your eyes fell to each of the freckles that adorned his neck and you wondered who found it in them to hurt such a calm and kind creature. The kind that took a knife and turned it into flowers.

He’s still waiting for an explanation. You pause for a moment longer, trying to smile but not finding the strength.

“Haven’t they already taken enough from beautiful things?”

It’s his turn to freeze, but only for a second. The coldness is quickly thawed and replaced with the familiar shades of pink and red that you had almost just started to miss. The blush on his face seems like nothing compared to the warmth you feel inside as you watch him look down at his hands while the realization dawns on him.

“Yeah,” he mutters, quiet in a way that tells you the enormity of what he is feeling. With one long, powerful exhale, he announces his conclusion like a final answer. “Yeah, you’re right.”

That strange man stops once more, like he has just noticed where he is and the usual nature of transactions taken place there. He is embarrassed yet again, and is now almost entirely unable to meet your eye. Because you, the florist, have done nothing but coddle him and call him beautiful. Even at the expense of your own occupation.

“Now I feel bad,” he says through a laugh. You are happy to hear the sound, but sad to hear what follows. Small and shrunken, he mumbles, “I wasted your time.”

But you have a different interpretation. Because just seconds ago, you heard him laugh, and it hardly seemed like a waste. The only question became how to tell him that without sounding as odd or off putting as he really should have been coming in only half-breathing with obscenities.

Subtlety, you decide, is the best route for a man as unsure as he seems. Subtlety and flowers.

“Not a waste,” you hum as your fingers fiddle through flowers behind the desk.

As you draw a red carnation out, you peer into the layers of petals crinkled in on themselves and wish you could hold him as closely. But you decide that for now, the smile that blossoms over his face is enough to hold you over.

He takes the flower from your extended hand and giggles, an honest and sweet sounding expression of only the purest form of joy. He holds it with a similarly childlike enthusiasm that makes you promise yourself to explain to him what the flower means one day.

One day, you think before immediately changing your mind. There is no reason to wait. He is already halfway out the door before you call to him, sharing a smile and one last laugh.

“I hope to see you again.”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Mexican Margaritas (Lesley Fic)

Summary: Where Reader meets sunshine personified in the form of Lesley Smith-Juniment, and they help each other through their break ups. A/N: After watching Hot Air, I’m convinced Lesley deserved to be spoiled and chased after, and he didn’t get that with Summer. So here is my take on the perfect woman for Lesley Smith-Juniment (it’s you!). Couple: Lesley Smith-Juniment/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Alcohol, oral (male receiving), penetrative sex Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

The appeal of large scale resorts in foreign countries is the comfort of feeling that you aren’t as far from home as you really are. I knew that when I booked it, since they called it the home away from home, emphasizing the bastardization of a culture to fit into American ideals. That should have been enough of a reason to pick some other place to stay, but it still wasn’t the one that I was pondering over a weak margarita in the lobby of a hotel that had way too many fluorescent lights.

Why did I pick somewhere similar to my home when I wanted to get away? That was the thought that consumed me, drowning out the cheesy pickup lines I’d heard from the few men who approached me despite my horrible case of resting bitch face. Still, I continued to scan the crowd for someone who looked as miserable as I did, but in a more compatible way.

After nearly 3 hours, I found what I was looking for. Across the bar I saw a man, his chin resting on a hand propped up on the bar top. He had a far off look in his eyes that I recognized, and I decided that I had to talk to him.

It wasn’t just out of a selfish desire to cheer someone else up so that I wouldn’t be as miserable – something about the look on his face just screamed for my attention. Of course, I was probably just imagining that to justify my decision to talk to him. Because if I was really being honest with myself, the decision was probably more based on the fact he was, by far, the cutest guy I’d seen in months. Possibly my whole life.

“Did you just get laid off or dumped?”

The man nearly fell out of his chair, my presence taking him by surprise despite my having sat beside him long enough to order two more terrible margaritas.

“How did you know?” He asked cautiously, his eyes roving up and down my figure in the most shameless fashion.

I’m guessing dumped.

“Why else would you come here alone?” I gestured to the bar, hoping that he also understood it to be a broader statement than that. He was in the resort, so he must also be a tourist. No one who actually lived here would come somewhere this boring.

“Ah. I’m actually not alone. I came to visit my dad but then he... left with some woman.” He sounded embarrassed the more he explained, scratching the back of his head and leaning back. “So now I’m…”

My eyebrows jumped as I stared at him. Subconsciously mirroring his posture, behind a hand on my chin, I waited for him to reach the same conclusion I had already pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess I am alone.” The sadness in his eyes was back, and it looked way worse up close.

I nudged one of the drinks over to him. He just stared at it, so I kept going until it almost fell off the edge. When he finally picked it up, I smiled.

“Not anymore you aren’t.” I held out my hand to him with a tired smile. “I’m (y/n).”

“Lesley Smith-Juniment.” He answered, taking my hand in his. The only thing I could think about was how massive it seemed in comparison to my own, followed by how eerily soft it was. Not to mention the fact that despite how warm he was, he wasn’t clammy in the slightest.

He was like… sunshine personified.

But the most rewarding thing wasn’t the handshake he gave or watching him take his first sip of the margarita and cringe, it was the way his demeanor changed. Like the longer we sat together, the more alive he became.

“You know how people say a name rolls off the tongue?”

“Yeah?” He hesitated, chasing after his straw with his tongue and still failing to get it in his mouth. Even when he struggled, he was adorable.  

“Yours does not.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized that it might have been a little too mean for a guy who already looked so sad. But luckily for me, he laughed. It started as a small chuckle at first, but soon after the smile took up most of his face.

“Thanks.” He said, stirring the drink in front of him. I smiled at his reactions when he tried to sip it again. He either really hated tequila, or he was a complete lightweight. Either way, it was cute to see him try to drink it for my benefit.  

“So, Lesley Smith-Juniment. You’re only sort of here alone, but I was still right about one of those two things.” I announced, plucking the tiny umbrella from the top of my drink and twirling it between my fingers.

“Yeah. Although I’m not sure if I was dumped, or if I dumped her, or it it was a mutual thing.” He sighed before he finished in an entirely different octave, “You know what I mean?”

I unfortunately did, but I didn’t want to dwell on that. I hadn't asked him to hear him talk about it, although I could see why he got that impression. I wanted to know because, depending on his answer, I could employ either of two very different strategies.

“Mmm you were definitely dumped.” I teased, knocking my shin against his leg.

“Oh, thanks for that.” He chuckled again, trying to downplay the smile that resisted his efforts. Although he stared down at the counter, I still saw his eyes flitter up to my every few seconds.

“Well. You’re cute. You seem funny. Considering your clothes are both expensive and poorly styled, I’m guessing you are smart and have money.” I gestured to his outfit, which, if I had to guess, was chosen by him. No girl would have put him in this. He was way too cute to hide behind such boring clothes.

Lesley was distracted, hyper-focused on his outfit now rather than the question I only then realized I hadn’t specified.

“So what happened?”

“Did you just simultaneously compliment and insult me?” He answered, instead, a playful pout on his lips.

“We can fix poor styling.” As if you demonstrate my point, I tucked the small toothpick umbrella behind his ear. Fluffing his hair around it was enough to wipe the pout from his face. “And don’t avoid my question.”  

“Right. Well, it turns out... that proposing to a girl at her wedding might not be the best idea.”

I waited a minute before I responded, mostly to see if he was being serious. It appeared so, which only made me question this poor kid’s sanity even more. “Hmm... I can see why.”

But if that wasn’t already enough, he continued with a blank stare forward, “It also probably didn’t help that the FBI was chasing my dad, who was with me after faking his death, and then later escaped in a hot air balloon.”

Closing my mouth before he realized it was hanging open, I had to laugh at the fact he said those things with such ease.

“Wow, that’s crazy! That’s exactly how I got here!” I joked.

He didn’t get it. With the most incredulous look I’d ever seen, he whispered “... What?”

Naturally, that only made me laugh harder. “I’m kidding!” I shouted, pushing him gently on the shoulder and apparently misjudging our relative strengths, because he almost fell out of his chair. “I’m here on vacation, you dork.”

“Oh! That makes... way more sense, yeah.” He nervously replied, taking another drink and finally succeeding in not recoiling at the taste.

Deciding that was the perfect time to fuck with him, I bit on my bottom lip as I mumbled. “With my fiancé, actually.”

Lesley choked on the drink, shaking his head and grabbing hold of the counter to stop himself from falling from the chair. “Wait. Are you being serious?”

The complete and utter devastation in his voice was hysterical. There was an incredible gullibility and sincerity in everything he did. If I wasn’t careful, I could see myself falling in love with this idiotic goofball.

“No!” I laughed, chasing my straw with my tongue similar to how he had a few minutes prior. In his defense, it was harder than I remembered it being.

“Oh, thank god.” He said with a sigh.

After that, there was a comfortable silence as we both returned to the liquid courage sitting in front of us. It wasn’t that long, though, and before I noticed that I was thinking out loud, the question had already left my lips.

“Did she say yes?”  

“No.” He replied quickly, and underneath the surface of his sweet cadence was the closest I’d seen to anger. Not quite rage, but more a general frustration that accompanied the worst kind of heartbreak. “She didn’t say yes the next time, either. And I promise that one was normal.”

Even though we’d just met each other, I felt like I'd known him all my life. Maybe it was just how open he was with the strange woman at the bar, or maybe it was just me wanting to see something where there was nothing. But there was one thing I was certain of: Lesley Smith-Juniment deserved better than being sad and angry.  

“Well... her loss.” I swung my leg forward again, this time locking between his with my foot. It wasn’t much, but I liked being closer to him. Although, to be fair, I really wanted to touch his hands again. But I would save that for later.

“Thanks.” He muttered. I was almost disappointed, seeing that distance in his features even as I played footsie with him, but before I could retreat, I was pleasantly surprised to see him come back to me, slowly and carefully. “Why are you here, by the way? Did you come here with someone else?”

I blew out a deep breath, tilting my head back and forth as I tried to describe my situation without getting too far into the nitty gritty. I definitely couldn’t outdo his story, so anything I said would pale in comparison.

“You know, same kind of story. Had my heart broken and wanted to fill the void.”

The honesty seemed to reach him better than anything else, and I thanked the stars that I was still capable of the required vulnerability. It wasn’t much, but the warmth of Lesley alone managed to thaw some of the ice that had formed over my heart. I’d barely even noticed it was there before him, but I certainly noticed its absence.

“Did it work?” He asked, seemingly reading my thoughts.

“Not yet.” I answered just as truthfully, finally reaching a hand out to take his. He jumped at the contact, his eyes flickering everywhere but my face. Shaking my head at his nervous he looked, I laughed for what felt like the millionth time that night. “But I’m getting there.”

He beamed at the answer, his minuscule ego growing like the Grinch’s heart in that silly Dr. Seuss story. “Do you want to dance with me?” He said it like a dare, turning his hand under mine so that our palms were pressed together. Without waiting for any other sign from me, he interlocked our fingers when he preemptively defended himself. “I might not look it, but I’m actually pretty good at it.”

“Good, cause I’m not.” I responded, jumping down from my seat. He didn’t have time to stand gracefully, as I yanked him off the chair and into the fray on the dance floor as quickly as possible.

I couldn’t have told you what era of music they were playing, but it was clearly some terrible theme night. If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have been caught dead dancing among the tourists. But it was fun. Lesley wasn’t completely lying — He could dance better than me, although not by much. It was honestly a pretty low bar when it came to this kind of music.

Any embarrassment was quickly discarded with the way he looked at me. Because in those kind light brown eyes, I saw a joy that I wanted so badly to take credit for. I wanted to make him happy; to see him smiling and laughing and forgetting whatever her name was.

And it seemed like I got my wish, because when the music began to slow down, he snaked his arm around my lower back, pulling me flush against him. I couldn’t have looked up at him if I wanted to (which I did), because he had his lips essentially pressed against my ear when he spoke. “I’ve only known you for like an hour and you’re already lying to me...”

The feeling of his breath over my jaw sent a shiver down my spine, and it took my words with it.

“You can dance.” He clarified, the two of us swaying among a sea of people that felt so far away. In his arms, I swore I was transported to an alternate reality that was composed of just the two of us.

“I’m just following your lead.”

When he pulled away from me, I noticed for the first time just how chilly the air in a packed nightclub could feel. There was nothing as satisfying or comforting as Lesley holding me.

“I don’t know, so far it’s all been you.” He joked, chewing on his bottom lip as he glanced down at my mouth. It was the most forward he’d been so far, and I was more than happy to reward that. Still, recognizing that he wasn’t going to make the move until he was absolutely certain, I ran my hands through his hair before I offered him the permission he sought.

“Do you want to change that?”

He didn’t wait to answer the question, his lips falling onto mine without any hesitation. They were somehow even softer than his hands, which were now pressing hard against my back, practically lifting me off the ground in his insistence.

My hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place as I deepened the kiss. His breathing got heavy so quickly, and I was sure if the other people hadn't been  there, he would have tackled me onto the ground right there. The poor touch-starved boy could barely stop himself, and I wasn’t going to try to, either.

The only thing that managed to distract me from the kiss was the bulge that pressed against my lower stomach. At first, he tried to hide it, backing away from me before I grabbed his belt loop and pulled him back to me. Once I had exhausted everything we could do in public, I used the same loop on his pants to guide him out of the lobby and onto the elevator.

Without even asking, he hit a button. I wasn’t going to object to going to his room, just glad that I wouldn’t have to kick him out if things went poorly. But then again, I seriously doubted that it could go bad in any sense of the word. We were practically attached at the hip, and I pressed him against the wall of the elevator for the very short trip. He didn’t complain, though, and in our excitement, we nearly missed our stop.

Stumbling through the dizzying patterns of the hallway, Lesley almost dropped his keycard when he went to unlock his door. Absolutely nothing about this man was graceful, and I knew then that I would be the one calling the shots as soon as that door closed behind us. And sure enough, as soon as it clicked, our mouths broke apart clumsily.

“I’ve never done this before.” He admitted quietly.

“What? You’re a virgin?” My hands jumped off of him so fast, and it made me feel terrible. But in my defense, I would not have been that surprised, and it’s not like I wouldn’t have necessarily slept with him, anyway — I just thought it was an important thing to clarify before we went any further.

Thankfully, he clarified in the squeakiest voice I’d ever heard from a full grown man. “What? No! I meant a one night stand!”

“You don’t know that’s what this is yet.” I pointed out. “I don’t know about you, but I’m here for three more days. And if you make it worth my time…” It felt wrong to use crude language in his presence, even with my intentions being anything but innocent. So instead of telling him exactly what I wanted to do to him, I cupped him through his pants.

The moan he gave in response was the exact opposite of what I was expecting. It wasn’t high pitched or breathy; it was a deep, low groan.

“Shit.” He cursed, backing me against the wall just so he could hold himself up with one arm. The other was still wrapped around me, trying to hold our bodies as close together as possible without stopping my hand from palming him through his jeans.

When he stopped moving, his eyes clenched shut and his breath shallow, I paused. “Do you want to stop?” I tried to make it clear in those few little words that he could tell me to stop if he really wanted. Although he claimed not to be a virgin, it was obvious without needing to be voiced  that this wasn’t something he made a habit of.

“God, no.” He gasped, bucking his hips against my hand in an adorably submissive act. He could hold me against a wall all he wanted, but if he was going to rut against my hand he might as well have let me step on him.

“Take off your pants.” I ordered, and he followed suit. Well, he tried to. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought this man had never worn a pair of jeans in his life. He was struggling so hard with the zipper; I couldn’t stop myself from giggling. It was mean, but he was just too fucking cute.

I swatted his hands away, taking over and quickly stripping him of the pants. “You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t do this.” I teased, earning another little pout from the boy.

“I’m so sorry.” He didn’t need to be, and it was endearing to think that he felt the need to apologize. If anything, his relative innocence just made me want to spoil him even more. As if his guilt and low self-esteem wasn’t reasons enough, he had to lay flattery on top of it, too.

“You’re just so beautiful and every time you touch me, I can’t function.”

The compliment went straight to my head, and I knew exactly what I needed to do with the newfound confidence. “You’d better prepare yourself for this next part, then.”

He was about to ask why, but once I dropped to my knees, dragging his pants down with me, he figured it out pretty quickly. There wasn’t a single second of silence, his mouth filled with whispered curses, pants, and whimpers as I pulled his boxers down to join his discarded pants on the floor.

I didn’t waste a second longer, dragging my tongue up his cock before closing my lips over the head. Lavishing the tip with my tongue, I played a game with myself to see just how many different noises I could elicit from him. So far, they were all beautiful and fueled my own desire without him needing to touch me at all.

When I started to take him into my mouth, he had one hand on the wall to stop himself from falling forward. The other, though, hovered over my head. Once again, his manners knew no bounds. But I wanted to see if he would grab it himself, so I didn’t do anything about it at first.

Instead, I focused on setting a slow bobbing rhythm, each time taking more of him into my mouth until I felt him at the back of my throat. When I started to gag, his hand finally touched me. He gripped my hair tighter than I expected, and to my surprise, he held me against him rather than pull me off him at the sound.

That was even more provocative, to see him throw any concerns to the wind to keep me from stopping what I was doing. It was exactly what I wanted — for him to lose control. Lesley did not disappoint, his hips starting to move in tandem with my mouth. Over time, though, the grip on my hair loosened and eventually released altogether. He used the hand to gently stroke my hair instead.

His noises became more plentiful, and before I knew it, his entire demeanor changed. He tugged on my hair so hard, I almost hit my head against the wall.

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” He panted, his shoulders heaving with each breath. “You have to stop.”

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I tried not to take offense to the way he spoke with such urgency. I knew for a fact that he was enjoying himself, and I really didn’t want to leave yet. I didn’t want to stop until he had finally let go of all the tension he carried in his hands. Even just the thought of them touching me was too much to bear.

“I’m sorry. You are very good at that. Like, very, very good at it and... if you don’t stop I won’t be able to...” He explained, looking down at me resting patiently on my knees on the shitty hotel carpet.

“You don’t have to fuck me. I’m perfectly happy ending the night like this.” I only sort of lied. It was possible for me to relieve him of his tension and cause him to let go purely with my mouth, but I would have been lying if I'd said I didn’t want to feel what else he was capable of, too.

“No! I... want to.” He assured me, moving to offer me his hands and helping me stand, which I did on wobbly legs.

Once I stabilized, I cleared my throat, looking up at him with a clever grin. “Want to what?”

“I want to f-fuck you.” He stuttered, the word sounding much too crude on his tongue. It obviously pained him to use speak with such depravity. That was fine, though; I didn’t need him to talk.

“Lay down.” I commanded, pushing him back and watching him tumble onto the bed. He complied with my instructions, tearing his shirt off while I dug into my purse. I swore I heard him sigh in relief when I pulled out a condom before I approached him. I tossed it on the bed next to him before I took to removing my dress. It wasn’t as slow and seductive as I would have liked, but he seemed to enjoy the show, nonetheless.

I was planning on putting the condom on for him, but by the time I got to him it was already on. Considering what he'd told me of his parentage, I guess I understood why he would be a bit of a control freak with that. But it spoke to another problem I’d discovered over the course of the night.

“You know what, Lesley... I’m very disappointed in how neglected you are.” I purred, climbing on top of him on all fours. When my face hung over his, I saw the amazement sparkling in his eyes that begged me to continue with the shameless attention. “You’re such a sweet boy. You deserve to be spoiled.”

Without another word, I started to sink down onto him. The sudden sensation must have surprised him, because his fingers dug into my hips so tightly that I knew they would leave marks. He arched his back so deeply that our chests pressed together, his head thrown back among the pillows.

“Does that feel good, baby?” I cooed, lifting a hand to trail down his jaw and neck. I cupped his chin, forcing him to look at me as I came to rest against his hips. Before he could answer, I started to roll my hips over him, making sure to keep him fully sheathed within me.

“How are you even real?” He groaned, struggling to keep his eyes open as a sheen of sweat formed over his brow. The soft twitches of his hips told me that he was still holding himself back, but I would let it slide for a little longer while he adjusted to the feeling of being inside me.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I kept saying that I wanted Lesley to lose control, but I was the one who did it first. It certainly wasn’t my first time going for a ride, but something about the way his soft hands dragged against my skin so harshly made me feel like I was on fire. He was the perfect paradox of gentle violence, each motion he made calculated with just enough pressure to force moans from my chest.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He growled into my neck between kisses against the sensitive underside of my jaw. It was my turn to whimper, enjoying the praise he delivered with such blatant affection. His hands worked their way up to my breasts, kneading them tenderly as he continued to whisper sweet nothings into my skin. At least, they were sweet until they weren’t, his voice growing dark as he dragged his teeth across my collarbone. “I want to feel you come on my dick.”

The lewd language coming from him caused goosebumps to spread over my heated skin, and my hips fell against him hard, a loud moan reverberating through the room. Any pause would have been short lived, and I would have happily continued riding him with all the feelings I’d repressed for months, but Lesley had other ideas.

I didn’t realize what was happening until my back hit the sheets. He had turned us over so fast I was dizzy from the sudden shift. And by the time the world looked straight again, he had set a brutal pace thrusting into me.

“Fuck!” I sobbed, my legs shaking in his hands as he lifted them to wrap around his back. The new angle allowed him to fill me completely, which he did happily. Soon enough, he had lowered himself so that our faces were inches apart again.

“You want to take charge again, baby?” I giggled through the gasps, and my body was unable to stay still as he plowed into me with more force than someone so sweet should have been capable of.

“No, not exactly.” He breathily replied, his face cupping my cheek before he smiled. “I just really wanted to kiss you.”

I couldn’t reply to him because I had fucking butterflies. He didn’t wait for a response, either, claiming my mouth with passionate open-mouthed kisses. His tongue slid against mine with a skill that made me question what other things it could be used for. It was overwhelming, and for a long moment I forgot that I’d only known him for a few hours. It felt like so much longer; it felt like a lifetime of waiting had led me here, to some shitty resort in the middle of Mexico, three margaritas deep and in the bed of Lesley Smith-Juniment.

I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

My breathing was shallow, my mouth unable to stay connected with his as the moans got higher pitched. He sensed my desperation and offered reprieve in the form of his hand dropping to where our bodies met. I almost stopped him, but I realized it would be a futile effort. The look in his eyes told me that he was fully planning on carrying through with his previous desire.

It didn’t take any effort whatsoever on my part for me to come undone. My body craved his touch so badly that seconds after he began rubbing small circles against me, I was already gone. All of my muscles tensed around him, trying to force him impossibly deeper into me.

He fed off of my enthusiasm, burying his face in my neck and bottoming out inside me at the same time my walls began to flutter around him, begging him to join me over the edge. Which he did, with a low moan muffled against the skin he’d covered in marks. And although he was wearing a condom, I could still feel the gentle throbbing as he found his release.

It felt more like home than any other man I’d ever slept with. It felt safe, comfortable, and peaceful in his arms. Even as we were drenched in sweat and his whole body weight was dropped on top of my oxygen-starved self, I couldn’t bear to pull away. I drew small patterns over his back, working my hands through his damp hair and eventually pulling his face back up to mine.

He still looked at me like I was his whole world, and I wondered how I’d ever bring myself to let him go.

“Can I kiss you again?” He slurred, his face already gravitating towards me. But I wasn’t the sun between the two of us; I was just the moon of a distant planet hoping to get the chance to feel his light when the circumstances were right.

“Yes.”

He was the one asking, but I was the one begging him to do it. As he delivered yet another doting kiss, I found myself lightheaded all over again. The only thing I could possibly have complained about was the fact that his kisses never lasted long enough. Breathing didn't seem nearly as important.

But luckily, when he stopped, he didn’t break away from me completely. We both knew that we needed to clean up, but neither of us was ready to leave just yet. So, rolling off to the side, Lesley immediately curled up at my side.

“How did I know you’d be a cuddle bug?” I murmured, lazily fluffing his hair as I tried to calm my still pounding heart.

“Is that okay?” He asked, still just as insecure and innocent as I'd found him.

Pulling him closer, I pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “It’s wonderful. Just like you.”

Logically, I knew that, the sun rises the same in Mexico as it does anywhere else, but it felt so different that morning. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t the sun itself, but rather the man it shone down on.

Lesley was watching me, a small smile stuck on his lips as he reached out to touch me when I started to stir.

“Good morning, sunshine.” I whispered, scooting closer to him. Although I felt him get a little sad at the fact that he couldn’t see my face anymore, he seemed content with the way I buried my face against his chest.

“Good morning.”

“How are you?” I mumbled against him, happily listening to the soft thump of his heart against my face.

“Great. Everything is great.” He said contentedly, tangling our legs together under the sheets and pulling me against him.

“Is that so?” I hummed, trailing tiny kisses over his shoulder and up his neck. “Most people regret their first one night stand.”

His body tensed, and I was almost worried that my overt advances were too much, too early. Not to mention the fact that he was sober now and might feel very differently about the whole situation.

Thankfully, he didn’t leave me in suspense for very long. “I don’t regret it. But… Does it have to be… one night?” I thought I was scared, but Lesley sounded downright terrified. The vulnerability clear in his voice made my stomach do somersaults. “Do you think I could see you again tonight?”

He was talking so fast and so frantically that I could hardly get a single syllable in edgewise. Slowly pulling away from him, I tried to sit up to respond, but he was already starting again.

“Or you could possibly just... stay? Here, with me?”

The request stole the breath from my lungs, but I managed to say a few words, anyway. “You’re too sweet for your own good, Lesley Smith-Juniment.”

His name was starting to grow on me.

“But didn’t you come here to see your ridiculously dramatic dad?” I objected, even though I really didn’t want to. I didn’t want him to waste his time with his dad on my account. At the same time, the idea that this would be it for us made me feel so incredibly alone.

“Yeah, but he’s kind of an asshole. And you’re not an asshole at all. You’re the furthest thing from an asshole. You’re like… an angel.” His praise was appreciated, although it made it harder to argue with him.

I smiled, pulling the blanket over my chest as I started to crawl on top of him again. “Okay, how does this sound: I’ll stay here with you now on the condition that you get me breakfast after we work up an appetite.”

With stars in his eyes, Lesley excitedly nodded and breathlessly replied, “I would get you anything you wanted.”

It seemed like such a characteristic thing for him to say, to offer his one-night stand the world when all she asked for was pancakes.

“Let’s start with breakfast.” I offered, leaning forward to give him one more kiss that could never last long enough. When it ended, he uttered one simple word that meant the world to me.

“Deal.”

(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Lord help me, I've done it again and made y'all wait ages for a massive Anon post. I promise I'm still alive (just exhausted)!

I'm also hoping to finish the next Chapter of TB&TB today... hopefully.

1. I'm so happy to hear that! I personally have a hard time connecting to fanfic if I feel a disconnect between the canon character and their depiction. Not that there is anything wrong with OOC characters (I also write them regularly), but I am honored to hear that your interpretation of them is the same as mine!

I wish I could write more for the other characters, but I have enough on my plate with Spencer, and I don't think I could self-motivate to write more 😅

2. Haha, they are reader inserts but I do not insert myself as a reader! I actually relate most to Spencer, especially as depicted in The Birds & The Bees. But I am also partial to the Reader in Funny Thing Fate. No surprise, I relate most to the Autistic characters I write, lol!

3. [Dark Side] [NSFW] Hahah, I'm glad you enjoyed it! I'm mostly just not interested in writing a lot of things CNC-adjacent. I used to do it back when I first started, but I ultimately decided I'd rather write lighter stuff. Although, I do have a somno fic in my WIPs, so maybe I'm just full of shit.

4. I was going to put this in my Rejected Requests, but I actually just switched my old Lesley Smith-Juniment fic into a Spencer fic for you! You can read Melancholia here!

5. Around 15.8k. I'd reckon at least 10k of them are completely inactive at this point!

I know some people feel uncomfortable voicing this kind of information. I personally don't care because I don't view it as an indicator of worth or anything, it's literally just how many people I compelled to press a button once. No biggie, lol!

6. It was very tempting to put “depression” as my answer. But on a serious note, I’ve been out of school for a while now! I’m an attorney 😊 I also have a STEM degree.

7. [Melancholia] I'm so glad that I was able to catch you at the right time, but I am sorry you had to be there at all. This is one of the few pieces that regularly makes me cry when I read it, so I understand what you mean by a good cry. I hope it provided the reset and cleansing you needed and now you can take that next step towards forgiving yourself for whatever it is that's keeping you back.

We are all human, and we all have our moments. You've got this 😊

8. [Melancholia] That line hurts me every time I read it. Because it's so true, no matter who you are, we are our own worst critics. I was just watching Queer Eye the other day and I started bawling when Tan said, "I just want you to be kinder to yourself when you look in the mirror."

I'm literally writing an entire original novel on the concept of not being able to recognize yourself in the mirror, so safe to say I'm familiar with that feeling!

And I'm sorry that you are going through something. I hope it passes quickly and you receive the relief and comfort you deserve. Baby steps, friend. That's how everything is built and every masterpiece is created - one step at a time.

9. I believe you are looking for Tutor Me by @reidslibrarybook!

10. [Easy Access] [NSFW] Thank you so much, friend! Honestly, I was worried I wouldn't be able to write enough to make it worth it, but once I started, I couldn't stop, lol. Shy Spencer is a cutie, for sure.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Guys I’m almost done with Chapter 4/19 of my original work. Isn’t that crazy?! I’m so excited. Don’t worry, I’m still writing my Spencer fics on the side.

1. Aaaaa I need to do it. I love Aubrey Plaza SO much 😭 I just can’t decide if I want Kyle or Raymond first.

2. Not from me! I know there aren’t many; I’ve been trying to convince other writers to do them but it appears that many of us have an aversion to anal. Not sure why. Mine is from a negative personal experience so you will not be seeing it from me.

Strawberry Shortcake by @moonlit-martyr​ is the only one I know.

3. I actually unfortunately don’t read much fanfic anymore. All of my time is either devoted to Bar Prep or writing. That being said, @reidwithagun has never steered me wrong. I am familiar with almost all of the authors on their Rec List, and I also recommend them. You can search the #recommended tag on my page for more.

4. Awwwe you’re my favorite. I hope you have a wonderful day, too! 🥰

5. Thank you so much. I always worry so much about my characterization. I’m writing Diana for the next part of H2M (heheh) and I had to check with like 6 people because I’m so nervous I got it wrong. I hope you like that, too! ❤️

6. This is so sweet! Welcome to the fandom, we’re happy to have you! I think the next thing to come out will be It’s Too Cliche, since I only have one scene left. Then I might take a break to do another Chip Taylor (68 Kill) fic and a Lesley Smith-Juniment (Hot Air) fic. Then maybe H2M. I honestly have no idea.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

What’s up everyone? I can’t believe it’s only Tuesday. Although, time isn’t real with Bar Prep, where days off don’t exist (seriously, I have assignments every day for 10 weeks straight). Hope your life is more exciting!

Also, if you sent me questions from the Criminal Minds Ask Game, I’ll be answering those in a separate post! I’m excited 👀

1. Thank you so much my love! I hope that you also have a wonderful day/night! I’m so glad I could entertain you! 

2. Y’all really oughta just go straight to Queen @dreatine cause I just ask her every time. Since I don’t really read fanfic anymore (any free time I get is spent writing), I don’t have any recs. Dreatine’s recs, however:

I Know I Can and I Love You As... by @dontshootmespence

On the Edge with You by abautifulmind (xoxokaitykat) (Ao3)

3. Once again, all credit to Dreatine’s wonderful mind for knowing this entire fandom and being able to recall everything like the coolest encyclopedia in the world:

Satisfied Curiosity by @sunlight-moonrise

Semantics by @moonlit-martyr

and @downondilaudid might have a few that meet your fancy.

4. I’m honestly shocked and overwhelmed by the response It’s Too Cliche got. I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s mostly based on real events, and part of me really didn’t want to post it because it made me feel so vulnerable. But I’m glad I did, and I’m glad everyone enjoyed it.

Thank you for your support and I hope I never stop writing, either! I love you!

5. Aaaaa I’m so glad to hear it! If it’s fanfic you’re writing, please share it with me sometime! Happy writing my love! I’m happy to be of service!

6. The only legal way to watch it is to purchase it (and I’ve heard from others it is nowhere to be found online). I bought it for $8 on Amazon, but I know licensing laws prevent it in certain countries. The rental for like 48hrs is $3. There are a bunch of ways to earn quick $5 gift cards online if you ever really want to see the lovely Lesley Smith-Juniment!

P.S. I finished my fic for him, so you can expect that in the next week 👀