#lesley smith juniment x reader

[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.

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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.”

[reidsdaisies]

Heyooo, for our boy Lesley pls x

👄🚪🍯💘🔥😭

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐥𝐞𝐞

blurb ask game

👄: sharing their first kiss

🚪: showing up at the other's door, begging for comfort

🍯: friends to lovers

💘: love at first sight

🔥: slow burn

😭: unrequited love

༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; lesley smith-juniment x gn!reader ༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; Friends is what you are, what you’ve always been. That fact breaks your heart. ༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; friends to lovers?? trope, mentions of reader’s cheating ex, unrequited love, reader is obsessed with him fr and lesley is hung up over Summer.., kissing, sadness and crying. ༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1.8k ༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; currently preparing to be hunted down and threatened with pitchforks (jk..) this was so fun to write.. i feel like it has potential for more 😭

mgg masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox

You weren’t even supposed to be working that day. The only reason you were was because your coworker had a family emergency pop up, and she begged you to swap shifts with her. She was your friend first and foremost, so you accepted, wishing her well.

That didn’t mean you were happy about it, though.

You sat behind the counter, head in hand, listening to the sounds of a ticking clock above you. There was not an hour left in the work day, yet it felt like an eternity.

The sound of a bell chiming was what pulled you from your thoughts of boredom. It signaled that there was a customer in need of service. You were almost inclined to tell him you were closing early and to leave, but something about him made you change your mind completely.

The handsome stranger standing in the doorway had an awkward smile plastered on his face, eyes bouncing from wall to wall, scanning over the array of products that the store offered.

“Can I help you, sir?” You asked, picking your head up and looking straight at him.

His ear perked, quickly looking over to you.

“Uh, yeah, yeah you can! Do you guys sell gloves?”

“What do you think?” You laughed.

“Uh, yes? The sign outside said–“

“That we’re a garden supply store. So yeah, we sell gardening gloves. Unless you meant like mittens, cause then we don’t have those.”

“Yeah, I meant gardening gloves. I only asked because I’m looking for specific ones.. I suppose I should’ve said that before.” He grinned nervously.

You’d gotten up by that point, rounding the counter to stand in front of the man. He switched tabs on his phone to the search tab he had opened, presenting it to you. You studied the picture well.

“Hmm.. I think we have those. If not, then I’m sure we have something very similar.”

You motioned for him to follow you, which he did. You stopped in a corner of the store, eyes scanning over each shelf carefully.

“Ahh, here they are,” you smiled to yourself, plucking a pair from the middle shelf and handing them to the man. “Nearly identical.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring down at the item, lifting the tag on them. “Thank you..” the man started, bringing his sight over to your name tag. “Y/N.”

You nodded, flashing him a smile of your own, yours far from nervous. You were enjoying the man’s company so far, even from the very little he spoke.

“Is this all, sir?”

“Yeah, and it’s Lesley. Lesley Smith-Juniment.” He told you his full name, as if he was expecting it to be used by you.

“Alright Lesley Smith-Juniment, let’s ring you up.”

At checkout he told you he was planning on starting a garden in his yard. You also learned that he’d most likely be coming back very soon.

You couldn’t wait to see his pretty face again, or to call him by his pretty name again. You couldn’t wait to see him again. You were elated.

…

The rain came down hard, your knocks on the door just as hard. Luckily you donned a raincoat, lent to you by the man who’s door you were on the verge of breaking in.

The door suddenly flung open, taking you aback, a small gasp escaping you.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Lesley asked, panicked, beginning to lead you inside his house by your arm.

You stumbled into the foyer, too focused on kicking your shoes off to answer. You let them fall to the ground and lay sideways on the rug.

“He did it again,” you bit, huffing, eyes set on the wooden floor.

“Oh, y/n,” he cooed. He still held onto your arm, and he pulled you back in closer to him, but you pushed him off.

“I don’t want your pity, Lesley,” your voice cracked.

You were there because that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to feel bad for you, to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go.

Even though that’s what you longed for, it hurt too much to admit, and it was wrong to want. He had feelings for a girl, you were in a relationship – well, a dysfunctional relationship that had ended not an hour before. The man was a placeholder anyway.. and the feeling was mutual.

You groaned, slumping into his arms, too tired to fight what you truly desire anymore. He would hold you but you still wore your (his) raincoat and it was positively drenched in water.

“C’mon, Y/N,” he grunted as he lifted you up from the arms to stand straight again. He was tired himself, dressed in his pajamas, hair a mess, but he’d always make you a priority. You were his friend, his best friend, after all..

Lesley slid the coat off you, making a deal of hanging it up before he walked you into his living room. You immediately curled up on the familiar plush cushions of his couch, hugging a throw pillow close to you. You used it to dramatically muffle your sobs.

The brunet returned not 5 minutes later with a mug of tea in his hand and a warm smile on his face. He sat down beside you on the couch, one hand on the handle of the cup and the other rubbing reassuring circles on your thigh.

“Homemade mint tea,” he told you as you shifted around, sitting up. Homemade mint tea. Mint from his garden. The garden his friend, the woman he had a crush on, prompted him to start. The garden you helped him with.

You tried not to look bitter. Lesley was one of the kindest, softest men you’d met in your entire life. It wasn’t his fault that he likes a woman who is quite literally engaged. You didn’t want him to ever think that you weren’t considerate of him and everything he did for and with you.

“Thanks, Lee.” You mustered up a smile. It was still a sad one, though. I mean, you were literally cheated on, for the 3rd time might I add, by your ‘boyfriend’, if you can even call him one, who’s now your ex. You’d been crying all day. And then, being with the only person who you trusted to tell such a thing to, who had his own issues with his love life, it made you even sadder.

You sipped from the mug, swallowing the liquid. He had put a bit of sugar in it.. just like how you always begged him to do but he never did until then.

“It’s really good,” you whispered, trying hard not to cry, but you failed. You tried to conceal your sorrow but the sniffling gave it away. Lesley looked at you with utmost compassion and understanding.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, brows furrowed and eyes focused on you.

“About what..?” You managed through a choked sob.

“About the reason you’re crying.”

‘No.’

Is what you wanted to answer with, but you couldn’t. What you wanted in the moment was to continue doing what you had been for years, avoiding it altogether. But all that avoiding it gave you was resentment towards Lesley and a girl you barely knew. You didn’t truly want to continue with it, so you mustered a nod, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Lee..” you cleared your throat, correcting yourself, “Lesley Smith-Juniment, I.. I’m going to be vulnerable with you..”

“Please do,” he encouraged softly.

“My ex-boyfriend.. he’s not the man I’m in love with. My feelings for him go no deeper than surface-level. And the feeling is clearly mutual,” you tried to make a joke out of your last sentence, but Lesley didn’t laugh. He was taking this seriously.

“I have feelings for someone who isn’t him..”

“What are you trying to say, Y/N?” He asked, as if he was confused. Maybe he actually was, you’re not sure. He’s smart, he should’ve known exactly where you were leading with this.

“Wh-what I’m trying to say is..” you stumbled over your words, pausing for a moment to take another breath. He must’ve known what he was doing by picking your hand up gently, holding it in his. “I-I’m in love with you.. I have been for so long.” You whisper wistfully, glossy eyes staring straight into his eyes for approval.

It wasn’t fair that you couldn’t be together. He was single, you were through with your ex-‘boyfriend’, the girl he liked was taken. You were both available.

You were so close that you could feel his breath fan across your cheek, faces mere inches apart, your ragged breathing and sniffles all he could hear. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more your vision started to warp. You genuinely believed he was looking at you lovingly, wordlessly telling you that he felt the same way.

You weren’t thinking properly, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning forward, pressing your lips to his. His lips were soft like rose petals, and they tasted as sweet as roses smell. He wasn’t pulling back, in fact, he was tightening his grip on your hand, kissing you harder before he finally broke the kiss, pulling back from the force that you were.

He stared at you dazed, eyes scanning your features. There was a glint of hope in your eyes, as if you really believed he’d kiss you again.

“Y/N, you need to go.”

“Wh-what?” Panic flooded your brain.

“I like someone else, Y/N. You need to understand that and you need to leave. Go repair things with your boyfriend, on your own this time, or don’t.”

He pulled you off the couch, grabbing the mug and setting it down on the coffee table carelessly as he began dragging you back towards the door.

“Lesley, what do you mean? It’s so late, have you seen the weather? You can surely hear it.” You were frantically trying to change his mind, watching helplessly as he rummaged through the closet, looking for that raincoat. You were hesitant to put it on, but you did, and you did so slowly.

“You’re right, it’s late. I’m going to bed, and you’re going to get back in your car and drive home.”

“No-“

“Yes. Yes, Y/N. Don’t protest with me.”

It was rare that Lesley used that grating of a tone with you, but you knew it was warranted. You’d forced yourself into his home, confessed to him when you should’ve known he didn’t feel the same, and most importantly, kissed him without warning.

Tears began to stream down your face again. You didn’t deal well when people were harsh to you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, frowning. “I love you, but I need you to go home, for both of our benefits, okay?”

“O-okay..” you agreed, voice sounding utterly dejected. “Are we still watching the game on Sunday?”

“We’ll see, Y/N.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he shut the heavy door in your face, leaving you to drown in the storm of your own creation.

Let me know your thoughts about this in the comments or my inbox and like & reblog to support! Much love <33

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Gryfflepuff in the Tardis' Masterlist

All my Works, characters are colored by which Hogwarts House I think they're in. I am a Primary Hufflepuff, Secondary Gryffindor and I genuinely think Hufflepuff is the best and most underrated house.

Ninth Doctor - Brooding Time Lord Who Tries To Hide His Light with Darkness

Supernova Series/Season One Masterlist (Ninth Doctor/Tenth Doctor) (Delilah "Lillie" Tyler/Princess Supernova played by Katherine Langford)

Tenth Doctor - Hyperactive Time Lord Who Is Always Being Slapped Born From His Love For a Human Who Tries To Hide His Darkness and Trauma With Light

Campbell Bain - Bipolar Nineteen-Year-Old Walking Ray of Sunshine That Somehow Doesn't Do Well With Girls

Sweet Jane Masterlist (19-year-old Campbell Bain x 18-year-old Traumatized Reader)

Metacrisis Doctor/TenToo (My Headcanon is that he chose the surname "Noble")

Fourteenth Doctor - The Face That Returned, now arguably more Hyperactive and Traumatized

Alec Hardy (Broadchurch) - Grumpy and Broody Scottish Detective With a Heart Condition yet a Heart of Gold (Doesn't Know He's a DILF)

Emmet Carver (Gracepoint) - The American Version of Alec

Crowley (Good Omens) - A Hyperactive Drama Queen "Vaguely Sauntered Downward" Angel Turned Only Demon with an Imagination

Barty Crouch Junior - The (Possibly Bipolar) Misunderstood Boy Who Never Got His Father's Love and Was Manipulated By Voldemort (I think I read that he was actually a Ravenclaw but I do see a lot of Hufflepuff in him, his insistence of a fair fight and honesty and loyalty)

Peter Vincent (Fright Night) - Hyperactive Alcoholic Magician/Vampire Hunter with a Heart of Gold

Dave Tiler (Single Dad) — The sweetheart dad with too many children with so much love in his heart who fate was so cruel to.

Kilgrave (I've never seen Jessica Jones, I just feel like with him having the same accent and looks the same, it might ruin David Tennant's Doctor for me, and I love David Tennant as the Doctor.)

Cale Erendreich (Bad Samarian; Haven't Seen This Either)

--

Steve Harrington (Stranger Things) - The Hair; Nomenee for Mother of the Year

Embers In the Sky (Domnique "Nico" Henderson played Georgie Henley; Alex Henderson played by David Tennant)

Killer Queen (Cassandra "Cassie Dare" Henderson played by Zoey Deutch; Pan Henderson played by David Tennant)

Trauma (Emilie Henderson played by Hailee Steinfeld)

Devil Town (Imogen Henderson played by Katherine Langford)

Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf) - The Abused Puppy With a Heart of Gold Who Only Wanted the Power to Defend Himself and To Not Be Scared

Embers in the Sky Season One (Milo Stilinski played by Katherine Langford)

Embers in the Sky Season Two

Embers in the Sky Season Three

Embers in the Sky Season Four

Embers in the Sky Season Five

Embers in the Sky Season Six

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) - The Genius Pretty Boy

Valentía (Zoe Noble-Valdez played by Selena Gomez)

Braveheart (OFC played by Karen Gillan)

Raymond Wadsworth

Chip Taylor

Kyle Orfman

Lesley Juniment-Smith

--

Fred Weasley

(All of these are Potter!sister!OCs, most of them are of Harry Potter's twin sister)

The Girl Who Lived (Sadie Sink as OC) (Need of a rewrite. Her name was Violet but since then my cousin had a baby daughter who he named Violet so I'm changing this character's name. I just can't write original characters with names of people I know. It's a rule of mine.)

North Star/Falling Star (Metamorphmagus!Cassiopea Potter played by Katherine Langford) (May change the name to Vega Potter)

The Twins Who Lived (Georgie Henley as Currently Unnamed OC)

Embers in the Sky (Emberly "Ember" Potter Played by Caitlin Blackwood/Karen Gillan) She is also the face claim I maintain of Lily Evans/Potter. (Caitlin Blackwood played young Amelia Pond in Doctor Who and is Karen Gillan's real life cousin.)

Yes, there are a lot of David Tennant characters. I don't want to write for the actor himself, I just feel a little creepy doing that. In my numerous Steve Harrington fics, the more recent ones (The OC is always Dustin's older sister, except in one) I think he is the best Doctor and I think he should officially be titled as the biggest Doctor Who Fan ever. (He became an actor because of Doctor Who, he says he thinks he underplays how much he loved Doctor Who, he became the first regenerated Doctor and the first one to last more than one season on the revived Doctor Who, he met his future father-in-law, like a year before he met his wife, Ty Tennant, Georgia's oldest son and David's now adopted son, in 2008, considered the Tenth to be his favorite, and hilariously, his grandfather was nowhere on the five-year-old's list--then David Tennant met Georgia (at the time) Moffat on the set of Doctor Who as she, the daughter of the Fifth Doctor, played the daughter of the Tenth Doctor, I heard that David Tennant met Ty on the set, and according the Peter Davidson, Georgia didn't even realize that he liked her when they started going out (apparently he was offended when she said she hadn't seen any Shakespeare), then David Tennant counts as the unofficial twelfth regeneration (there was the War Doctor who the Doctors deem as not worthy of having the name of the Doctor), then he adopted Ty Tennant and married Georgia; he returned for the 50th and 60th anniversary (and I hope he never stops returning), now is the Fourteenth Doctor, that's three official regenerations, and Good Omens is full of Doctor Who references. I don't think anyone can beat him for the biggest Doctor Who fan. His life like revolves around Doctor Who in a way that every fanboy/fangirl dreams of.

I have created an OC to be the Henderson!OC and Dustin's father and I always choose David Tennant, he just really gives off protective I-will-kill-anyone-who-hurts-you dad vibe and I have a soft spot for an overprotective dad for his daughter (I never had that. My dad wanted a boy--granted the disapproval that's implied is possibly because my mom told me this--and he is ADHD and was always sleeping and then he moved two towns over which was an hour's drive but seemed longer in my ADHD mind but so he could sleep and I could play video games on the Xbox that's memory wouldn't save the game so I continuously had to start over. Oh, and also, there's the fact that a TV fell on me when I was five/six because I didn't understand gravity and I locked myself in the dryer when I was seven/eight. What, is that not normal? 🙄) I'm not a big crier but a father that's willing to do anything for his daughter is your best bet. Sorry for this rant.

*(Can't pinpoint what house Alec Hardy and therefore Emmet Carver would be in, the only blog I've found on it, discussed how he may be a burnt Hufflepuff (just google it, it'll send you to the tumble immediately) but hiscusses his desperation in season two suggests Gryffindor, also implying his ignoring of his heart condition but he's aware that he has it, so he's gone to the hospital and he takes pills, he's just aware that the doctors told him that he may not survive his surgery to have the pacemaker put in and he feels like he owes it to the families to get the closure they deserve, so it doesn't strike me as impulsive but more dedicated, determined, and "unafraid of toil". Then the blog argues that his need to protect people he views as in his care and how he related to the Sandbrooke case as Slytherin but I don't see that. I think perhaps a "Burned Hufflepuff" is accurate.*

[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

[honeysuckleharringtons]

Navigation ☆ About Me

About Me:

→ name: emmy/emily/mills

→ age: nineteen

→ religion: Christian

→ pronouns: she/her

→ zodiac: leo ☼ libra ☽ aquarius ↑

→ personality: enfp ☆ 2w3 ☆ gryffindor

→ other stuff: chronically ill ☆ suspected neuro divergent ☆ currently studying creative writing

My Favorites:

→ shows/movies: criminal minds, stranger things, supernatural, dharma & greg, alexa & katie, monsters inc, the princess bride, hot air, peanuts, twilight, harry potter, christopher robin

→ characters: spencer reid, penelope garcia, steve harrington, robin buckley, max mayfield, sam winchester, dharma montgomery, greg montgomery, alexa mendoza, sulley, westley, buttercup, lesley smith juniment, woodstock, snoopy, alice cullen, seth clearwater, winnie the pooh

→ music: one direction, niall horan, harry styles, noah kahan, blake rose, taylor swift, hozier, sabrina carpenter, five seconds of summer, bts, lewis capaldi, julia michaels, phoebe bridgers

→ romantic ships: spencelle/reidaway, hotchniss, demily, garvez, dharma x greg, spenlexa, buttercup x westley, lesley x summer, jalice

→ platonic ships: garceid, moreid, morcia, stobin, elmax, stustin, kalexa (?), bellice

→ interests: novel writing, screenwriting, acting, fashion, baking, listening to music, watching new shows + movies

About This Blog:

→ who i will write for: steve harrington, eddie munson, billy hargrove, jonathan byers (i may branch out in the future, these are just the ones i feel comfortable and confident writing right now!)

→ things i will write: fluff, angst, somewhat suggestive content (never full smut), hurt/comfort, pretty much any genre you can think of

→ things i won't write: character x character (just because i don't really have anything i ship enough to want to write fics for it), kids x reader, full on smut (you can redirect these requests to my nsfw blog @hornyhornyhimbos), self harm, anything non-consentual

Links and Such:

→ main blog: @ofwilliamandwalter

→ fanfiction recs blog: @paperbackprettyboy

→ icons blog (inactive): @scrapbookspence

-> nsfw blog: @hornyhornyhimbos

→ beta reader signups: linked here!

→ masterlist: linked here!

→ current pfp: these icons by @ilovegilmoregirls

→ header image: pinterest

→ navigation images: pinterest

→ navigation dividers: these dividers by @firefly-graphics

-> masterlist icon: these icons by @peachy-ash

-> masterlist images: pinterest

-> masterlist dividers: these dividers by @anlian-aishang

Tags:

-> steve reblogs - #steve 🫶🏻

-> eddie reblogs - #eddie 🎸

-> robin reblogs - #robin 🍦

-> chrissy reblogs - #chrissy 📣

-> nancy reblogs - #nancy 👒

-> jonathan reblogs - #jonathan 📸

-> argyle reblogs - #argyle 🍕

-> dustin reblogs - #dustin 🤖

-> mike reblogs - #mike 🕹

-> lucas reblogs - #lucas 🏀

-> max reblogs - #max 🛹

-> el reblogs - #el 🧇

-> hopper reblogs - #hopper 🚓

-> vecna reblogs - #vecnussy 🥀 (why do i have this tag)

-> stobin reblogs - #boobin and steeb 🍦

-> hellcheer reblogs -> #hellcheer ❤️‍🩹

-> steddie reblogs - #steddie my loves

-> jancy reblogs - #jancy 📰

-> cheerscoops reblogs - #cheerscoops 💚

-> byler reblogs - #byler boos 🖌

-> fruity four reblogs - #🍓🍒🍉🍎

-> show reblogs - #that's just life in hawkins

-> joe keery reblogs - #joey my love

-> joe quinn reblogs - #quinnie my kinnie

-> grace van dien reblogs - #grace van damn

-> jamie bower reblogs - #jamie campbell bestie

-> charlie heaton reblogs - #charlie not brown

-> natalia dyer reblogs - #natty ice ice baby

-> writing rambles - #my paddles ✍️🏻

-> random rambles - #not my paddles

-> fic reblogs - #hawkins public library 📚

-> inbox replies - #anons are schmackin'

-> queued things - #queue rule queue suck

[writing-in-april]

30 fics for 30 days in April

A/N: Hey guys it’s finally here!!!!! I’m so excited to share all of these with you!!! Each number corresponds to the day of the month that it comes out on- all titles are subject to change because I’m indecisive as hell lol- also as always any fic marked 18+ means only the people over the age of 18 can read them- please don’t break this rule I have had to block a ton ton of people because of this and I still want to be able to let minors read my non explicit content- so please be considerate of me and how I could get into trouble and be considerate towards others who’d be affected if I had to make this blog 18+. Anyways- that aside I hope y’all enjoy all of these!!! Most of them are based on requests which will be linked and for most I’ll be adding an additional description once they are posted. My requests are still open as well so if you have anything you’d like to see in he future feel free to drop it into my inbox- and during the month of April since most of these are prewritten I may write and post a second fic if I feel inspired to write and post it- I’m just going to go with the flow. Wow this is too long lol- hope y’all enjoy! Main Masterlist Join my tag lists

1) April Fools~ Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer needs to one up Reader just as he’s about to loose a prank war (18+)

2) Spooks~ Raymond Wadsworth x Female Reader: Raymond starts sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong at the next haunting he’s investigating. (18+)

3) Dog Person~ Javier Peña x Gender Neutral Reader: After Javier mentions being a dog person it gets Reader thinking

4) Dressed in Crimson~ Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)- Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open. (18+)

5) Converging Parallels~ Spencer Reid x Single Mom Reader: based on this request- the first option

6) Kid~ Poe Dameron x Female Reader: Reader can’t get Poe to stop calling her kid so she’s tries a new method while they’re arguing (18+)

7) Cinematic Coincidences~ Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: based on this request from @andiebeaword

8) Origins~ Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: based on a request given to me by @imagining-in-the-margins request pic below

9) Party Play~ Chip Taylor x Female Reader: based on this request (18+)

10) Paint me~ Laurent Leclaire x Female Reader: Reader asks Laurent to take the paint off the canvas for once- inspired partially by @propertyofabelmorales valentines fic for Laurent

11) Soured Nostalgia~ Spencer Reid x Reader: based on this request (18+)

12) Question and Answer~ Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: based on this request

13) Woodland Adventures~ Santiago Garcia x Reader: Santiago and Reader have a vacation to get away from everything. (18+)

14) A Snowy Morning After Part 2~ Spencer Reid x Female Reader: requested by @dreatine (18+)

15) Part 3 to Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde~ Spencer Reid x Female Reader Series- Description on Series Masterlist linked (18+)

16) Made to Match~ Frankie Morales x Gender Neutral Reader: Frankie gets you a gift so you can stop stealing his hat when he needs it (though he still likes it when you wear his on occasion lol) (18+)

17) Postmarked in the past~ Spencer Reid x Female Reader: based of this request and is part 4 for my unlinked Spencer Reid & Letters Series

18) Training Wheels~ Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: based on this request (18+)

19) A Hair’s breadth~ Javier Peña x Female Reader: based on this and this request (18+)

20) Chili Cheese Fries~Franklin (MGG in beginners luck) x Gender Neutral Reader: Franklin tries to make bowling alley food taste better for a date.

21) Shining Bright Above You~ Spencer Reid x Male Reader: based on this request

22) Punishment Deserved~ Abel Morales x Female Reader: based on this request by @propertyofabelmorales (18+)

23) Unwind in the Vines~ Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: based on this request by @lexieshuntingsstuff

24) Unintentionally Unrequited~ Lesley (MGG from hot air) x Gender Neutral Reader: based on this request

25) Erotica Explained~ Spencer Reid x Female Reader: based on this request- has elements of other fics and characters I write for (18+)

26) Manicured~ Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: based on this request

27) Tiny Vessels: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: based on this request by @zhuzhubii (18+)

~UPDATE I GOT SICK AFTER THIS AND WAS UNABLE TO FINISH THE LAST THREE- THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE~

28) Handblown~ Oberyn Martell x Female Reader x Ellaria: Basically Ellaria testing out new toys on and with Reader while Oberyn watches. (18+)

29) Between the Lines~ Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: based on this request made by @90spumkin

30) April showers bring May flowers: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: When Spencer was in prison there seemed to be only rain but when Spencer gets exonerated flowers begin to bloom again.

——

Relevant Tag lists (message me if you want to be added if there’s not a tag list for a character I write for yet and you want to be added to it message me as well:

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith won’t let me tag you for some reason All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics Javier Peña/Narcos: @pascalesque Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: @rainsong01 @dreatine @secretpickleprofessordean @evlfknb Letters Series (group of unlinked fics series master list under MGG master list): @whoreforthebau @sierraraeck @90spumkin

[kisseslikecoffee]

200?!

omg thank you so much for 200 followers, lovebugs!

with only two fanfics out, I’m quite confused about all of the support i’ve been getting but i’m incredibly grateful for all of you.

If you guys would like, I’d love to do a blurb night or maybe respond to a few concepts to celebrate and thank you all! I’ll write for all of MGG’s characters (especially my love, Lesley, because he deserves more attention.)

<3

[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.

[spencers-dria]

What kind of one-shots would y’all like to see? Currently open to writing for pretty much any MGG characters!! See link on master list for anonymous submissions.

[strawberryspence]

A Dinner and A Future

Fluff | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer just wants your first date to be perfect and surprisingly, it goes really well.

Word Count: 3,7k.

Warnings: some cursing, first date nerves, but that's it. just pure mindless fluff.

Writer’s Note: Hello! I've been going through a writing dry spell and the thing that solved it was writing this. I've been seeing a lot of edits on tiktok about Spencer's traumas and I just wanted to give him something simple and happy. I was also listening to Kodaline on repeat while reading this, so yeah it's going be hella sappy. Enjoy! <3

Gif is mine. Lesley Smith-Juniment, you have my heart.

Spencer is nervous.

Wait no, scratch that, nervous is not good enough. He was brimming to the edge with worry and queasiness. What other synonyms does nervous have? Spencer was antsy, anxious, perturbed, uneasy, at this point he can recite the whole thesaurus.

Spencer closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe. He can do this. He has waited for this for a long time and he won’t waste it because of burnt pasta.

Okay, he looks back at the note that David Rossi himself wrote in his own special handwriting.

1. Cook 1 pound pasta until Al Dente. Boy Genius, Al Dente should be firm when bitten. You cook it on a boiling water with salt and oil. SALT AND OIL.

2. While that’s cooking, do nothing. LITERALLY DO NOTHING. Watch it. Do the sauce later. In some miraculous way, if you don’t watch the pasta you’ll burn it.

A grin spreads across Spencer’s face as he puts down the paper and reaches for the fettuccine pasta and dropping it on the boiling water (which he measured with measuring cups he borrowed from JJ)

“Okay, now I wait for it to boil.” Spencer stares at the pasta as it cooks. Did he buy enough parmesan cheese? or enough pecorino cheese? Oh no. He looks over the other side of his counter where all the (complete) ingredients sit and he sighs in relief as if he hasn’t checked it 15 times since he started.

The pasta was still cooking and isn’t going to be firm anytime soon. Spencer ponders if he should just cook the sauce while waiting but he knows he’s going to mess it up if he doesn’t give it his undivided attention.

He looks at the watch on his wrist as it ticks to 5:21. He has one hour, thirty nine minutes and forty six seconds. He still has time before the date. The date with you.

It took him nine months, Derek and Emily annoying him to death to just ask the pretty librarian out, one extensive background research from Penelope, two separate talks of the “You deserve to be happy” advice from JJ and Hotch and one lecture about marriage from Rossi to finally ask you out.

He’s kinda annoyed really because he spent so much time thinking about you and thinking of the perfect way to ask you out but he shows up at the library you work at one day with a cup of coffee in hand and his heart on the other.

You didn’t even hesitate. There was no pause to process what he asked, there was no questions following the embarrassing stumbling of the words, “W-will you go have d-dinner with me? L-like a date... Date?” You immediately said yes with a small hop and the biggest smile on your face.

This date has to be perfect. He asked you to come to his apartment at 7. Spencer would’ve picked you up but he was making you a home made dinner and the date was taking place on the rooftop of you apartment, which Penelope and Derek helped him decorate with lights.

He tries the pasta and when its finally firm to the bite, he takes this as his queue to read the paper again. Of course, he can remember all of the instructions but Rossi still wrote it down and reading it calms his nerves.

3. If its cooked, drain your pasta water but leave a little pasta water on the side. Then you can continue.

4. In a pan on MEDIUM heat (just around 2-3 on the stove setting) cook one pound diced pancetta and 1 cup chopped onions in olive. Put this down and chop chop!

Spencer puts the paper down as he follows the instructions to drain the pasta. After he was done with it he puts the pan on the stove and starts chopping up the ingredients he needs.

Cooking is strangely calming. He never thought he’d find it calming. He always found himself burning stuff. So he sticks to the microwaveable meals and fast foods, even if he knows the statistics about these kinds of food.

After finishing the chopping he reaches over the paper and reads it again.

5. Are you done? Okay. Put the chopped stuff on the pan with olive oil and cook it until the pancetta is browned and onions are soft.

He immediately follows the instructions written. The onion and pancetta create a silent hiss as it hits the pan. As it cook he looks down again.

6. That’s going to take a while, so leave it but stay by its side. I am giving you permission to do two things at once. Dr. Reid, please be mindful of it.

Spencer rolls his eyes before proceeding to #7.

7. Combine the two cheeses. Then divide it in half. Then pour the half into 4 egg YOLKS. Just yolks! The yellow ones! Then beat it lightly until its really combined.

He has already separated the egg yolks from the whites (a job he didn’t think would be that hard but was surprisingly very hard) before he started cooking. He adds the combination of cheeses to the eggs and lightly beats it as he watches the pan of onions and pancetta sizzle.

When done with the egg and cheese combo, he gives the pan a stir before looking back down.

8. Is the egg done? Yes? Good. Is the pancetta and onion good? Yes? Good.

9. Okay, now you put your pasta in the pancetta pan.

10. REMOVE IT FROM THE HEAT! REMOVE IT!

Spencer follows the instructions to the T. He puts the pasta on the pancetta, gives it a stir and immediately removes it from the heat. He sighs in relief. He hasn’t burned anything yet.

11. You haven’t burned anything yet? I am proud of you.

12. Now, pour the egg mixture into the pan and toss the pasta until coated. TOSS IT GENTLY. If you’re scared use tongs.

13. Pour about 1/4 cup of the pasta water I told you to set aside earlier. You don’t have to pour all 1/4 cup, just until you get the creaminess you want.

Spencer reaches over the nearest tongs. He’s not going to toss anything tonight that involves pastas or pans. He’s taking the safe road because he wants everything to be perfect.

14. Add the rest of your cheese! Toss some more and then add salt and pepper as NEEDED!

15. You can serve it with parsley.

16. Now, go take a shower and change into some cleaner clothes.

17. Just be you and have fun, Spencer. Goodluck! :)

Spencer smiles as he puts the paper down and makes the finals touches to the pasta. He starts doing what was instructed and it surprisingly, ends up in the perfect texture. Just like the one he tasted when Rossi had a pasta night.

He was proud of himself as he takes it off the stove and makes sure that all the stoves are turned off. There was this report he read in 2018, that cooking and leaving the stove open was the leading cause of home fires.

He takes the food, puts it into a fancy tupperware (another thing he borrowed from JJ) and puts it in the microwave. He cleans up a little and stuffs the pans and pots to the dishwasher, because you are coming in his apartment even for a second.

He starts getting himself ready for the date with a shower. As the warm water glides through his body he thinks of how funny life could be.

Spencer first meets you in the library. He has not slept well in weeks so instead he opts to go to the library to get some reading done. But as soon as he sits in one of the (surprisingly) comfortable leather chairs, its as if sleep knocks him out. It wasn’t until the closing time that you wake him up and he thinks that you were an angel sent for him. This elicits a giggle from you.

“I am sorry, I am not an angel. I am just the librarian and we’ve been close for over an hour now. I just didn’t want to wake you up. You looked like you really needed that sleep.” Spencer immediately jumps to his feet as he apologizes profusely to the kind librarian, “Oh, it’s okay! Don’t say sorry. I was also reading so I didn’t mind the peace and quiet.”

That’s how Spencer meets you. He comes back a few days later after a case with coffee, croissant and an apology. You immediately become friends and thats how all of this started. Spencer finds himself falling in love with the kind, gorgeous, clever librarian faster than he expected.

Every week after that, Spencer comes to the library with pastries and coffees for his favourite librarian and every week, you welcome Spencer with a warm smile and a new book for him to read. He can read it in one sitting but he reads it in the slowest pace he could so it can last for a week.

Spencer comes out the shower and stares at his closet. Should he go casual or formal? Casual or formal? Its just dinner, he’s chill and casual is the way. He picks one of the few plaid shirts that he has and puts it on with a white shirt underneath. He tries to brush his hair, it sits for a moment before it starts curling again. He cringes but leaves it be.

Spencer proceeds to the kitchen to start packing the food into a wicker basket (that he also borrowed from JJ, he basically borrowed her whole kitchen). He packs the utensils in a table napkin that comes with the basket. The main course for the date was the carbonara, and the dessert was a tiramisu Penelope made.

He reaches over his sofa where the bouquet of paper flowers are. He made it a few nights ago with Penelope’s help. He stayed up to make more of it with old books he found in the BAU.

Because what kind of flowers is the best flowers for librarians? Origami flowers made with old book pages.

He shouldn’t be nervous. You’ve been friends for all the months that he didn’t have enough courage to ask you out. You’ve taken trips to old bookstores together for book hunting. This shouldn’t be different from your other trips.

The pitter patter of rain against his window takes him out of his thoughts.

“Shit! Is it raining!?” Spencer yelps, before opening the closed curtains. Beads of water runs down his windows and if its any other day he would love it. But not tonight, when he planned a rooftop date. He cringes as he thinks of the fairy lights hanged up and the table set up that is probably soaked now.

“Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Think, Spencer, think.” Spencer thinks fast. He finds the extra table cloth that JJ gave him because “Just in case.” He reminds himself to buy her a bottle of wine as a thank you. He places it in his small kitchen table before taking the utensils out of the basket and placing it on the table in a fancy way.

Candles. Does he have candles? Spencer scrambles around his kitchen, like a chicken without its head, looking for candles and he finds it underneath the kitchen sink. He lights some of it up and props it into some glasses (he doesn’t have a candle holder he realizes after lighting it up).

With the lights dimmed down leaving the light from the window and the light from the candles, his dark apartment gives off a romantic, kind of comfortable, vibes. It was kind of perfect because with the books on his shelves and the lighting, it actually has the same vibes a library gives off.

He was ready now, bouquet of paper flowers in hand. He can’t believe how smooth things are going, minus the damn rain. Only thing that’s missing is you.

A knock comes to the door and he instantly opens it. There you were, hair a bit wet and messed up from the rain.

His future was bundled up in a cozy cardigan and a pair of jeans right in front of his eyes and he didn’t even know it.

“Hi.” Spencer smiles.

“Hi.” You smile.

-

“A little to the right. No. No. Too much right, now give it a little bit to the left.” You sigh, your hand under your chin, “No, no, baby, its crooked.”

“Love, can we do this later? The pancetta is going to burn.” Spencer laughs as he climbs down the ladder with the frame.

“But you said you’ll help me with putting up the frames!” You pout at him, Spencer chuckles before kissing your nose, “I know but you also asked for my famous carbonara and I can’t do both at the same time.”

“Hmmm. I still don’t think you can call it yours when its originally Dave’s.” You follow him to the kitchen, zigzagging through the boxes of books you’ve both barely opened.

“What he doesn’t know, won’t kill him.” He winks at you before giving the pancetta and onions a stir.

“It already smells good, love.” You snake your arms through his waist and lean your head on his back. Spencer lets go of the spatula and spins around to face you.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Go unbox some of the books and I’ll call you when its cooked so we can fix the frames. Okay?” Spencer kisses the top of your head and lets you go.

You walk out of the kitchen to the hallway full of boxes full of books. You chuckle as you open the nearest box and its just full of chemistry books. You push it to the room where Luke, Derek and Spencer has built shelves for all of your books. An olive green couch sits in the corner beside the built in fireplace.

Hmmm. This is your home library but as a former librarian the dewey decimal is calling you. But then again, the books you and Spencer have doesn’t have classifications on them. You began unpacking the chemistry books and placing it on the shelf. You can hear the distinct hiss of the pan and Spencer humming Kodaline’s The One.

You push in another box from the hallway to the room and its another one of Spencer’s, this one full of philosophy books. You start unpacking it to the shelf below the chemistry books before stopping as you pull out a book that doesn't belong with the philosophy books. A smile graces your face as your hands glides unto it. It was the book Spencer bought for you on your first anniversary.

The Peter Pan cover is a bit tattered, it was an older edition he found in your favorite old bookstore. You open the book and Spencer’s messy writing greets you with nostalgia.

“We are most alive when we are in love. Thank you for making me feel alive everyday for the past year. Happy Anniversary, love. I live a full life as I love you fully.”

You smile at the book before hugging it to your chest. You sigh deeply as you looked around the room and how it felt so surreal to be in the new home you share with Spencer.

“Love, I am finish. Come meet me in the hallway!” You leave the book on the shelf as you hear Spencer calling you.

“Are you helping me with the frames?” You clap, excited to finally put up the frames. Spencer smiles as he sees you excited to put up the pictures.

“Yes, okay you need to tell me if they’re straight okay?” He instructs before climbing the ladder.

“To the right, just a bit. Oh! Perfect!” You scramble to reach for another frame as he comes down the ladder to move it, “Here! This one.” He climbs again and you instruct him with directions for the frame again.

After a few more frames, he finally comes down and looks at the frames you asked to be put up.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Spencer smiles down at you and gives your cheek a kiss as he wraps his hands around your waist, “It is. Thank you for framing them.”

The frames comes in different shapes and forms, the biggest one in the middle is the picture of your wedding day. Your wedding took place in a library you immediately fell in love with when looking for places to get married at.

In the picture, you were smiling, your head rested on Spencer's shoulder as he reads a Harry Potter book he found in the kids section. It was a candid moment, both of you running to the back of the shelves to get a moment to yourselves after the wedding and the photographer snapped it before leaving the two of you in peace.

Beside it are pictures with the team on the wedding day, some on thanksgiving, christmas, new year with the BAU team, some with your family, some with Diana and in the corner is a shadow box containing the paper bouquet that Spencer gave you on your first date, the same exact flowers that was in your hands as you walk down the aisle to him.

“So, how's the first six months of officially being a Reid-Y/L/N?” Spencer teases as he lets you go from the back hug to face you and you roll your eyes at him, “Oh very hard. They hear Reid and they immediately expect greatness.”

Spencer laughs, “Same as the last name Y/L/N.” This time your the one who laughs at his statement, “Uhhh. I am not the one with 3 PhDs and 3 BAs.”

“And I am not the one whose a New York Times best selling author.” Spencer laughs even more when he sees your nose crinkles, making his heart dance and swell in glee.

“Hey, let’s dance.” He takes your arms and leaves it on his shoulders as he wraps his arms on your waist.

“We don’t have music, you silly goofy boy.” Spencer rolls his eyes at the endearment used, “I’ll sing.” He hushes you down.

“You make my heart feel like it's summer when the rain is pouring down.” Spencer’s singing voice was soft and sweet in the edges. Most nights you lull him to sleep with your humming to keep the monsters at bay and some days, his better days, he’s the one who sings and these were the days you treasure the most.

“You make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong, that's how I know you are the one... That’s how I know you are the one.” He sways you to the gentle buzz of his voice. You close your eyes as he sings the same song he sings to your ears on the dance floor for you first dance as a married couple.

“When we are together, you make me feel like my mind is free and my dreams are reachable hmmm.” Spencer hums as he runs his hands on your back. Your head on his chest and your ear listening to the way his heart is beating for you.

“You know I never ever believed in love, I believed one day that you would come along and free me.” Spencer feels at ease as he sways and sings, knowing that he’ll have you in his arms for the rest of his life.

The song ends but you and Spencer continue to sway to the music of silence.

“Can you believe its been 4 years since our first date?” Spencer asks, in disbelief of how fast time is running when he’s with you. You pull away from his chest so you can face him. You find a small spark in Spencer’s eyes as he thinks fondly of the night.

“Really? 4 years since our first date got rained on and Penelope cried because we broke all her fairy lights?” Spencer laughs before protesting, “Hey! I paid for that!”

"4 years later and I still can't get enough of that damn carbonara." Spence cackles, like an evil villain, "Don't tell Rossi that I stole his recipe for my beautiful partner."

"4 years later and I am still completely in love with you." Spencer smiles as he leans down to place a small kiss on your temple.

"4 years since I almost completely lost my mind because I was so nervous about our date." You roll your eyes, "Love, our first date was perfect. We've had this debate how many times now?"

"19 times." Spencer answers and you pinch his nose before looking around the room that’s still full of unopened boxes, “See. We should probably eat lunch and unpack. Why do we even have so many boxes of books?”

“Honey, you were a librarian and you are a writer. I am a professor and FBI agent that can read 20,000 words per minute.” Spencer answers as he looks around the unpacked house.

You smile fondly at him before standing on your tiptoes a bit to reach him and give him a kiss and he immediately steadies you with his hands. Kissing you was intoxicating and Spencer loves every bit of it. You only pull away when the kiss finally takes away your breathe.

“I love you, Spence.” You smile as you hold his face in your hands, “I love you more, sweetheart.” He smiles at you as you untangle yourself from him.

“Let’s eat your famous carbonara and unpack the rest of our house. It doesn’t really feel like home when all we can see is boxes.” You giggle before dragging him to the kitchen, making Spencer sit on the island as you prepare the pasta he cooked. Spencer watches you as you sing and dance through the kitchen in one of his old cardigans.

He doesn’t say anything but you were wrong. Home is not four walls with unpacked boxes and hundreds of books.

Home was when you showed up bundled in a cardigan, wet from the rain for your first date with him and home is still you, four years later, bundled up in his old cardigans and singing songs that magically fills and heals the crevices of his heart.

-

the recipe i copied for the famous carbonara!

taglist (if you want to be added, please message me 🥰): @all-tings-diego @shemarmooresfedora @averyhotchner @samuel-de-champagne-problems @bingereid

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Who I've Written/Will Write For

Original Female Characters (Usually related to a Character) I don't usually write reader-insert stories but I did have one for David Tennant characters and I did the whole series of Takin' Over the Asylum plus some original stories added afterwards. I was also working on Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader stories. I don't write stories about the actual actors, it just makes me uncomfortable, I mean how would you feel of people writing you where you do whatever they want. It just makes me uncomfortable.

The Tenth Doctor

Campbell Bain (Takin' Over the Asylum; Young David Tennant) (Reader insert story)

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds)

Raymond Wadsworth (Gothic Suburban)

Chip Taylor (68 Kill)

Lesley Juniment-Smith (I need to find a version of the movie where I can have the subtitles.)

Steve Harrington

Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf)

Fred Weasley (Might not post; This story got me banned from Wattpad.)

[reidsaurora]

ofwilliamandwalter's birthday week celebration!

Welcome one and all to my birthday week celebration! I do wanna preface this by saying, this is different from my birthday challenge (be sure to enter if you haven't).

Emmy, how are you celebrating?

Every day this week leading up to my birthday, I will be posting a different birthday themed imagine!

Below, I have put the schedule of which day I'll be posting an imagine according to which character pairing it is.

Wednesday - Derek Morgan

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Thursday - Castiel

Pairing: Castiel x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Friday - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Midsized!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, some Fluff

Saturday - Dean Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (subject to change)

Genre: Angst to Fluff (subject to change)

Sunday - Lesley Smith-Juniment

Pairing: Lesley Smith-Juniment x Fem!Reader (subject to change)

Genre: Fluff

Monday - Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (subject to change)

Genre: Fluff

Tuesday - Sam Winchester

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader (subject to change)

Genre: Fluff, possibly some Hurt/Comfort (subject to change)

I am looking forward to posting these imagines for you guys! I hope you guys are looking forward to them!

☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

general taglist: @1234-angelika @amythedoctor @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @mrspeacem1nusone @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @kbakery @leigh70 @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @danzalladaggers @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @paintlavillered @jensensgirl @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @gal-obsessed-with-marvel @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @criminalmindsandmarvel @mente-sindescanso @reveriemgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia

[writing-in-april]

Unintentionally Unrequited

Lesley Smith-Juniment x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader tries to hold back their love for Lesley while he’s still reeling from his broken engagement.

A/N: Hey Heyyy!!!! This is my first fic for Lesley guys!!! It’s also my twenty-fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! It’s based on this request- I had a lot of fun with it!!! (Hope I got his character right 🤞) Lol low key I might have been projecting my love of the cold in the first paragraph- im sorry to all my warm weather lovers!!! 😂 Feel free to leave an ask here (I promise I don’t bite, I swear) Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: I swear three times- that’s it 🥰

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.5k

The sun beat down hard on me, making my eyes squint and my skin hotter than I would have liked. Normally I would have been wallowing in misery as I thrived in the cold, even though I lived in Texas. That’s where my job was and that’s where Lesley was, so I swallowed up my complaints, especially now.

Lesley was grabbing our drinks, which was more of a challenge than I expected. I watched him stumble about a million times in his closed toed Birkenstocks he still insisted on wearing, kicking up streams of sand while the concession worker snickered. Instead of laughing like most I smiled brightly, finding it incredibly endearing rather than using it as a reason to make fun of him. I may have not found his closed toed Birkenstocks very fashionable, but he loved them, and I loved him.

I could only say that in my head though, he was still unequivocally in love with Summer- even though she had stomped on his heart. He had thought he found love and watched it cruelly be ripped away from him when Summer broke off their engagement. Normally with whirlwind engagements it was expected that they wouldn’t last. But, with Lesley and Summer I had really thought that they would stand the test of time. I loved him too much to break the fragile happiness he had, though it turns out someone was going to do it for me anyway.

Lesley was still holding a torch for her, I could tell by the way he got a little melancholic sometimes when he talked to me. I did my best to get his mind off of it, that’s why we were here, on this unremarkable beach.

I was glad I at least did something good when I whisked him away to the beach for a while so he wouldn’t have to see Summer or be reminded of her. I knew that eventually we’d have to go back, but it was nice to pretend in this utopia I had crafted for us for the time being, even if the beach was slightly shitty. And, I meant that literally; there was tons of uncleared bird poop everywhere. We had to find a specific spot that was somewhat secluded to find a spot not covered in it.

When he came back with our drinks, it was a little more graceful than the first time, though the worker still laughed when his back was turned, which earned him a glare from me. As we sipped on our slushies while sitting on a rickety bench by the beach, I contemplated everything that had happened in recent months. I had been by his side through it all, mostly with my eyes blown wide at how ridiculous it all was.

Six months ago we had been very different people, sure we had the same personalities and acted relatively the same. But, our experiences over the last months have changed us into different people. I still knew Lesley, better than anyone, and certainly better than Summer claimed.

It was getting too difficult to keep trapped up inside anymore, each day I chose to say nothing made it even more painful. I sucked on my staw, trying to keep it bottled up, keeping it down by the colorful ice that tasted artificially sweet. It felt like I was choking on the love, it wanted to spill out and compel me to confess even though I didn’t want to.

Before I even knew what I was saying it started to tumble out, bubbling up to the surface getting ready to explode any friendship Lesley and I had,

“I know you never will feel the same way, but I have to tell you this,” He cocked his head to the side in question, not expecting what was about to come out of my mouth next, “I love you.”

His mind had obviously short circuited going by the look on his face, jaw dropped open, eyes blown wide, and fingers shaking in shock. It took him a minute to process, frozen in the same place trying to understand what I had just said.

Not long ago he had made the same confession to someone that ultimately ended up leaving him heartbroken. I was afraid I was due for my own dose of unrequited love.

His body must have caught up with his mind as he stood up, knocking over his red colored slushy in the process, staining the sand. He was rubbing the front of his khaki shorts in panic, I grabbed them without thinking; he could hate me now and never want to touch me again.

However, he did not pull away from me, in fact he gripped my hands in a tighter hold while he also squeezed his eyes shut a few times. I opened my mouth to say something, but found myself completely choked up at Lesley’s own admission, “I love you too.”

“I thought you still loved Summer?” Tears were falling down my face, but each drop was quickly brushed to the side by my hands, not wanting to have Lesley see me cry. I had thought Summer had meant the world to him, the way he looked at her made me think that he’d never look at me the same way. I had never even thought to turn around and see if he was looking at me in the first place.

“No, I don’t she was- Never mind it doesn’t even matter. All that matters is that I love you- it’s always been you. You’re the only person who really knows me, really sees me for me.” His hands enveloped my cheeks with cold from him holding the slushy cup while he said his own confession, much more wordy than my own. With his confession heat began to bloom in my cheeks, warming up his cold hands. They were warming up from sheer embarrassment rather than the sun that was still beating down on us overhead. It seemed so silly now, to keep my love for him secret while he walked into a romance his heart wasn’t fully in.

“I’m sorry.” I meekly whispered, dipping my head down in shame.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I didn’t tell you…” He then tipped my head up to look at him with confidence I didn’t often see from him.

“You told me now and- that’s all that matters.” Bridging the gap that had slowly been decreasing between the two of us, surprisingly he initiated the kiss.

His lips tasted like the cherry slushy he had been drinking, mixed with the blue raspberry one I had been downing. It was a sugary sweet combo almost sickly, but all I wanted was more. I had deprived myself of the sugar I had been pining for, for so long, I didn’t care if it was somewhat overwhelming to my taste buds.

We had both been idiots, colossal idiots for not getting the nerve to open our mouths and speak up to one another. Though maybe I was the bigger idiot because I had watched him pretend to love someone else, not noticing all the looks he had probably thrown my way. I had been so convinced that he would never love me back that I let the sweetness of him be used by someone else, even though it was always meant for me. Running my fingers through his hair I pulled him even closer to me, touching him without pause or thought of the repercussions. It felt good to be free, like I was flying high up above the clouds unrestricted by my own self doubting thoughts that always tried to sabotage me.

Lesley had been kissing me back with the same amount of force as I was, not a shred of hesitation in sight as he sucked on my bottom lip. Unfortunately I had to let him go when I noticed the concession’s vendor eyeing the two of us while eating a bag of peanuts. Glaring hard again at the man I then refocused onto Lesley, and I never wanted to stop looking. He seemed disappointed at first when we seperated; he had tried to chase my lips as if that would be his first and only taste. I gave him a quick kiss on the tip of his button nose, another taste of the affection he’d be treated to as long as he’d let me give it to him. Speaking softly I then expanded on my confession from earlier, “I promise there’ll be more where that came from- I love you and I never want to let you go.”

He looked down at our intertwined fingers still with shock, he brought them up to his lips, giving his own affection to the tops of my hands with two sweet pecks. “I love you too.” He then mumbled into our palms, giving them one last peck before releasing them.

Tugging his hands I then walked backwards towards our shitty hotel rooms that matched the shitty beach, though I wouldn’t be separating from him once we reached mine. “Come on let’s go.” I said with another tug before breaking out into a run with him right behind, ready to start our adventure of requited love.

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[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.”